Page 34 of Hometown Halftime

She gives a breathless laugh. “All of it.”

The music and voices from inside leak through the door, muffled but present. A chilly breeze blows around us, and she shivers. I want to wrap my arms around her, rub my hands along her skin to warm her, but I keep my hands to myself.

“If you’re cold, we should go inside.”

“I’m not cold,” she says defiantly.

I see her tremble again, and that’s it. I move into her space and wrap my arms around her. She goes rigid at first, and I brace myself for her to fight me, but then she surprises me when she relaxes and lets me hold her.

“You’re like a little grey kitten,” I tease.

She playfully presses her hand against my chest and looks up at me.

“What does that mean?” Her eyes narrow.

“You’re like a little grey kitten,” I repeat. “You’re spicy and have these little claws and hisses, but I think secretly you’re just a guarded little ball of sunshine.”

“Oh my God.” She scoffs. “I don’t think anyone has ever used the word ‘kitten’ to describe me.”

I pull her back to my chest. “I think it’s perfect.”

She pushes against my chest again. “I think you’re going to find more claws than sunshine, Riley.”

I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, shaking my head. “That’s okay, I sort of like it that way.”

Her eyes lift slowly to find mine again. This conversation has taken a treacherous turn. I could either get Kinsey to open up, or I could be treading in very dangerous waters.

“Riley…” she whispers. I think she wanted it to be a warning, but I can’t believe it was because she doesn’t move to create space between us.

Something rises up inside me. Call it courage or stupidity, but I want to shoot my shot. I want to see if there’s a possibility that she feels a sliver of the attraction to me that I feel for her. So that’s when I exhale and slide my hand along her jaw, threading my fingers through her soft, dark hair as my thumb swipes across her cheek.

Her eyes flare, her lips part, and the gasp that escapes her lips goes straight to my cock.

“Is it crazy that I want to kiss you?” I ask, my voice rough.

Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip before she shakes her head.

“Tell me to stop,” I warn her.

She swallows hard, her breaths coming faster.

“Is it crazy that I don’t want you to stop?” she asks.

My thumb drags lightly along her cheek again, slower this time, giving her every chance to pull away.

I lean in, my forehead almost touching hers, my voice dropping with the weight of the moment. “There's still time to stop me.”

Her breath brushes my lips, and for a second, everything hangs in the balance.

Then she whispers, “Grow some balls and kiss me, Riley.”

Everything inside me snaps with a certainty that settles deep in my bones. I close the distance slowly, giving her time to meet me halfway, and she does. Her lips press to mine, tentative at first, like she’s testing me, and then I take control.

The kiss deepens, and the taste of her lips sends heat through every inch of my body. Her grip tightens on my shirt, pulling me closer, and I let her. My hand slides from her jaw to the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair as I angle her head, positioning her exactly how I want her. Every thought in my head disappears except how she responds to me. The warmth of her lips, the soft sound she makes when my tongue sweeps against hers, the way we fit together so fucking perfectly.

My other hand settles firmly on her hip, drawing her flush against me. She melts into it, her body molding to mine, her fingers sliding up my chest like she needs something solid to anchor her. The world narrows to her body against mine, her mouth, the sharp pull of want tightening in my spine and I let myself dwell in it, just for a second longer.

When I pull back, her lips are swollen, her breathing is uneven, and her eyes remain closed for a beat before they slowly open. And when they do, I see it happen—the moment that reality crashes back in.