Page 72 of Made in Love and Blood

“Kiss me.”

“You first,” he whispered.

“So you want to?”

“Every day that I shouldn’t have, and ever since I could.”

She blinked, taking in what he said. “So why not just do it?”

“I don’t ever let things be a question for me. Especially this type of shit. When certain things follow you for what feels like your whole life, like people saying you’re some type of person or you act some type of way, you get used to doing things that protect you. I’ll never make the first move. Not unless you start telling me to.”

“Okay, I’m telling you to.”

Nico shook his head. “Doesn’t work that way. There’s a point two people have to get to between each other for that, beautiful. Maybe we get there someday, or maybe we don’t. That’s all up to you.”

He could tell she didn’t really understand.

Nico didn’t mind teaching her.

“Kiss me,” he said.

He let it be her choice. He needed her to cross it, and then they could burn that bridge for good. If she let him kiss her once, he’d probably never stop doing it. Knowing as much felt as dangerous as it did hopeful.

“Kiss you,” she returned cheekily.

“Kiss me and then tell me you want me to kiss—”

She did, stopping his words flat. Her hands pulled him down for it, but he just brought her up onto his shoes to get her higher anyway. His arm wrapped the swell of her bottom to give her something to rest against while his other hand found her throat. His thumb swept the expanse of her cheek as her first kiss turned into two, her sweet tasting mouth opening to find his tongue. He pulled away just for a breath, but she kissed him harder again and then spoke against his parted lips.

“Now kiss me.”

He did.

The room kept flashing, those people milled around, and he thought the two of them kept spinning. Moving to the music somehow. He felt her breath catch in her throat, pulse race under his palm, and her eyes fluttered shut when his mouth drifted down across her chin.

“And now you get to tell me if I can keep doing that,” he said against her quivering chin. “Right now, I’d really like to know.”

Her laugh echoed in his ears.

“Oh, my God, you better.”

•••

Frankie’s head leaned against Nico’s bicep as he exhaled a drag off a cigarette and eyed the passersby on the street. As they waited for the valet to bring the Rolls around to the front of the Ritz, a few more prom goers exited the building.

“Nice show in there, Frankie,” came an unfamiliar voice.

He felt her head snap away from him at the same time Nico looked in the direction from which the voice had initially come. A blond guy in a black tux walked their way with a girl in a silky, slinky white dress.

“Get fucked, Perry,” Frankie replied.

“Did you tell him about that thing I do with my hand so he can do it, too?”

Okay, now they had Nico’s fucking attention. He spun all the way around despite the hand that grabbed his arm. He barely paid any mind to the way Frankie’s fingernails bit through his suit jacket straight into his muscles.

“And who the fuck are you?” Nico asked the guy. “Because I can’t say we’ve met.”

“Oh, don’t worry. My brother knows you. Or maybe you were too fucked up to remember your tenth year at the Academy. Burnt his car out in the parking lot at lunch. Ring any bells?”