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“I’m still horny!” she giggled, her words light and teasing, the liquor clearly loosening her tongue.

I chose to ignore her, focusing instead on getting us back to the room where I could take my time. The bathroom encounter had been electrifying, watching each other in the mirror added a level of eroticism I’d never experienced before. But nothing could compare to laying her down on my bed and savoring every inch of her, completely unrestrained.

The memory of her face, lost in pleasure as she watched herself come, would be seared into my mind forever—a keepsake for long after this was over.

That thought was a bucket of ice water on the flames of my desire, dousing them momentarily with something deeper, something unsettling.

Eleanor wasn’t just gorgeous; she was funny, smart, captivating in a way that no one else had ever been.

But lingering on thoughts of how temporary this all was could wait.

For now, I grounded myself in the present, letting the past memory stoke the present moment.

Finally, we reached our room. I fumbled in my front pockets, fishing for the room key, only to come up empty. Where the hell had I put it?

Eleanor reached into my back pocket and retrieved my wallet, still hanging upside down. She pulled out the key with a triumphant grin, tucking the wallet back where she found it.

“You put it there before we left,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I couldn’t help but watch you.”

She laughed, her thoughts spilling out thanks to the alcohol. I chuckled, swiping the key from her and unlocking the door with a swift click. Pushing it open, I carried her inside and tossed her onto the bed. She landed with a delighted yelp, sprawling out like a starfish on the comforter.

“Look what I stole!” she announced, pulling a bottle of bourbon from the inside pocket of her jean jacket with a flourish.

I blinked in surprise, amazed I hadn’t noticed her snagging it on the way out. The fact she’d hidden it for so long was impressive.

She twisted off the top and took a few hearty gulps, grimacing at the burn.

“You stole that? From the bar?”

“Well,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and crossing her legs, “technically, you paid for it.”

My hands went to my hips as I stared at her, my eyebrows knitted together, wanting her to explain further.

“When you carried me out, the bartender and I shared a look. It’s the one we were drinking from before, so on the way out she handed me the bottle behind your back as you carried me out. Call it girl code.”

She shrugged, taking another long sip.

Eleanor smiled, offering the bottle to me.

I nodded with a grin, taking it from her. Considering I had apparently paid for it, I raised it to my lips, savoring the burn and the moment.

Eleanor knelt at the edge of the bed, the soft glow of moonlight slipping through the barely open curtains, casting a silver sheen on her face. The rest of the room was cloaked in darkness, a sanctuary that added to the mystery and allure of tonight. It felt like a cocoon, a world where only we existed, free from outside interruptions. In this space, we could go back to being whoever we wanted.

I liked who I’d been the last few hours, and that sat heavy on my chest. The night was a reminder of all the things I’d done to make myself the way I was—isolated, built walls so high no one could ever get past them—and all the people I chose to please over myself, slowly chiseling me into a stone statue I found hard to recognize.

I took a slow step toward her, the weight of the moment pressing against my chest. She didn’t flinch, didn’t move an inch, meeting my approach with confidence radiating from her. When I reached her, I lifted my hand to her chin, tilting her head gently to meet my gaze. Her lips parted slightly, as if beckoning me closer. My thumb grazed her bottom lip, soft and full beneath my touch.

In the dim light, her freckles stood out like tiny constellations across her nose, faint but impossible to miss once noticed. I already noticed everything about Eleanor.

Her tongue darted out, catching the tip of my thumb as it brushed her lip, a seductive move that sent a shiver through me. Her breath warmed my skin, a subtle reminder of her closeness.

Eleanor’s hands found their way to me, pulling me closer. The intensity of our earlier passion had melted into something softer now—a simmering slow dance. I followed her lead, letting her draw me onto the bed. Our movements were in perfect harmony, gentle and measured as I crawled over her, guiding her backward toward the headboard.

Every touch, every glance spoke volumes in the silence, the tension between us thick but tender. We were on the precipice of something deeper, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Still, she wore my hat, and there was no way I was taking it off her.

“It’s my turn,” she whispered, pressing against my chest to push me back. “Lie down.”