Page 19 of Too Freaking Hot

“Stay,” he says, voice steady but low enough that it echoes around the small, dim space of his living room, barely audible above the whisper of the ceiling fan. “You know you want to.”

The couch groans a little under our weight as I roll toward him, the world a swirl of exhaustion and pleasure. It's dark out, the only light coming from a lamp in the corner, half-covered by one of Ian's t-shirts. Our clothes are somewhere on the floor, too, tossed in a frenzy of making it from the door to the sofa.

“Did you forget what we talked about last night?” I give him my best scowl, which is never really very convincing, and push his shoulder. My hand connects with solid muscle that tenses just enough to make me lose focus. “I can’t show up at school looking like a hot mess.”

He catches my hand, locking his fingers around mine with a force that sends a flutter through my chest. “You do look hot, but you don’t ever look like a mess. You look like you spent the night in my bed.” His mouth twitches into a smile that feels like coming home, every single time. “Letting me worship your gorgeous body.”

“In your bed, on your couch, against the front door⁠—”

He lets out a bark of laughter that fills the room before glancing over to wink at me. “You really love reminding me about the front door, huh?”

“It was an unforgettable moment.” I reach for my phone, trying to convince myself not to settle in any deeper, even as my body molds perfectly to his.

He stares down into my eyes. “I fucking love you.”

“I love you, too. And I’m ready to try out the door again.”

Ian grins wider, looking pleased. I give up the fight and end up staying right where I am, breathing the soft, spent air of the room, letting his heat radiate into me until there's no more space between us. The lamp gives off a warm glow that settles into the fabric of his shirt, onto the planes of his face, into every corner of the night.

“I’ll make sure you get to school on time tomorrow morning,” he says, not letting go of my hand.

“You’d better,” I laugh. I reach up and wrap a piece of my hair around my finger. It springs loose the second I let go, taking a page from my self-control manual. “You grew up here, too. You already know that everyone knows everyone else’s business. I can picture the Riverbend Ridge Gazette headline now.”

“Hot Fireman Sets Off Alarms with Gorgeous Third-Grade Teacher,” Ian announces, his voice a touch too official. “Witnesses say Sage Higgins, twenty-three, was seen leaving his home at five a.m. every morning this week.”

I swat at him again, giggling.

“Honestly, Sage, if we’re not the talk of the town by now⁠—”

“We are,” I half groan, half sigh. It's easier not to think about what people are saying. About me. About Ian. About us, hurtling at breakneck speed toward something that might just be perfect. It’s hard not to care about the rumors, but I’m trying. For him. For me. For us.

“Who gives a fuck?” He sits up a little, staring into me like I’m the only thing that makes sense. And the stupid thing is, maybe he’s right. “I love you.” He points at me and then back at himself. “And you love me. No one else matters except our families, and they’re on our side.”

“You’re right.” I sit back against him. “Who gives a flying fig?”

“I’m going to teach you to use proper swear words one of these days.” He laughs and places soft kisses on the sensitive spot under my ear.

“We’ll see about that.” I text Eloise and make sure Winnie is okay for the night. We’ve been leaving Winnie at home with Eloise so we don’t interrupt my little dog’s schedule too much, but I’m missing the little stinker like crazy.