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“I know, little tease. I don’t have an interesting backstory. But you can know anything you want about me,” he assures, his dark eyes fixed on mine.

I pull his thumb away and kiss the tip.

“Everything about you interests me,” I promise him.

That small smile that only ever tugs at the corners of his lips appears, and my belly warms and somersaults. He’s not given me one in a while, and I’ve missed it. I want to kiss it.

Following the magnetic pull, I teeter forward, waiting for him to meet me. When he doesn’t, my throat burns and my cheeks heat.

The instinctual habit to brush it off, to pretend it was a slip and redirect the conversation, rears its head. Then the small part of me that’s fighting every day for my survival perks up, the part that’s started to embrace the anger and acknowledge what I want and need.

“I’m not that fragile,” I croak, the words not anywhere near strong enough to support my statement.

“You never have been,” he agrees.

I stare at him, my forehead creasing. “Then why do you treat me like I am? I…I thought you were in this, that you wanted to be more than friends.”

“You’re not a friend. You’re everything.”

Startled, my eyes flash to his and widen at the heated intensity there. Static bristles across my skin, and the silence around us blares loudly. Nate leans in and slowly wraps a hand around my neck. His gaze doesn’t drop from mine. The slowness of it gives me time to back out or stop him.

But I don’t.

I know without a doubt Nate wouldn’t hurt me like this.

My heart rate picks up, my palms turn clammy, and my vision blurs. I give myself a second. My mind gives my body the time it needs to catch up and realise that in this moment, we are safe.

Nate is safe.

Nate’s home.

“Little tease, you’re my every fucking thought. You’re in here, every moment of every day.” His other fist bumps against his chest. “Always. If you need something, it’s yours. I’m fucking yours.”

My breath catches, and his hand around my throat flexes, feeling it.

“I’m yours, too,” I promise reverently, the words husky but sure.

Neither of us might’ve said the specific words, but I know without a doubt his declaration was his way of saying he loves me, and me promising myself to him is my way of saying it back. Of promising him my heart and love, too.

“Then take what you want.” He smirks again. One singular brow quirks in challenge.

Wait. That’s what he’s been waiting for? For me to take what I want? Shitballs. This is so out of my comfort zone, I barely know where to start.

His gaze holds mine, and I fight not to let mine slide away.

“What do you want?” His words come out impossibly lower, heavy and heated on my skin.

“I…”

“No words. Take it,” Nate demands.

I zero in on what I want and launch forward so quickly I’m lucky I don’t end up strangling myself in his grip. Unsurprisingly, he’s ready, adjusting his position but keeping his hand steady.

Our mouths meet, or rather, mine takes his in an aggressive, hungry frenzy. His answering grunt has my tongue swiping out along his bottom lip. He immediately gives me access. Warm, wet heat consumes my senses.

Weight teetering forward, my leg gets thrown over his lap, so I’m effectively straddling him, and my arm clings tightly to his neck.

We kiss for long enough that I desperately need oxygen. I reluctantly pull away, panting breathlessly. Nate’s eyes meet mine, blazing hot. His tongue flicks out, licking the shine from his lips, and my hips pulse in his lap. At the touch of something hard brushing between my legs, my eyes flutter closed.