Page 64 of That Rush

“Will you have dinner with me next Friday?”

I make him wait, just for a breath, just long enough to feel the word form as my own choice. Then I slide my hand behind his neck.

“Yes.”

Aiden kisses me slowly, with one hand warm against my bare back and the promise of another Friday already between us. My body is still recovering from his mouth, and I already want it again.

Seven days feels unreasonable.

Chapter 9

Aiden

Paige follows me onto the porch barefoot, her hair falling over one shoulder.

She props a shoulder against the doorframe. “You know Saturday doesn’t begin at sunrise.”

“It does on a ranch.”

“That sounds like a flaw in ranching.”

I stop beside the steps and look at her. She pulls on the green shirt she wore last night, but the denim shorts have been replaced by soft black sleep shorts that make a strong case for not leaving at all.

We slept for a few hours. I woke with her back against my chest, my arm tight around her waist. It felt too natural, too easy to stay. A single night wasn’t permission to claim her Saturday morning, too. I needed to go.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” I ask.

Paige leans against the porch post. “I’m standing, aren’t I?”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“I’m also capable of identifying regret.”

“Still not an answer.”

She gives me a teasing smile. “Are you worried I’m going to panic now that the sun is up?”

“I’m making sure you don’t wish I’d left last night.”

“If I wanted you gone, you would have been gone.” She folds her arms. “I believe we established that I’m capable of telling you what I want.”

She had. By putting my hand on her thigh and telling me to touch her. By looking me in the eye and agreeing to this.

I know new versions of Paige now: direct and unhesitating, laughing while she’s naked, admitting when pleasure surprises her and asking for more anyway.

Knowing them only makes me want the rest of her—the parts I have to earn.

“You’re staring,” she says.

“I’m remembering.”

She flushes, though she keeps looking at me. “Anything useful?”

“Several things.”

“Then your memory is better than your reading skills.”

I grip her waist and draw her flush against me.