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Tris looks at me, silently asking if he should do the same. Are we done here? Time to go home? I’m feeling good, and definitely not ready for this night to be over. I shake my head ever so slightly.
A few more shared stories, and Cole and Zara offer to help us clean off the bar before they leave.
“We got it,” Tris says, conveying clearly both of us intend to remain. I’ll be getting a ride, presumably, from him. The implications aren’t lost on Zara. Before she leaves, as the guys say goodbye, she presses her finger to her phone.
Text meis the clear signal.
Nodding, I wave goodbye as the two of them leave, Cole’s hand wrapping around his wife’s as they exit the restaurant.
What a great couple.
As if I didn’t already know Zara was a gem, I watch as her hand moves to the lock on the door. She turns it just before they leave.
Dark outside now, with few lights on inside the restaurant to discourage customers, it’s an entirely different atmosphere from when Tris first came in. If the air was charged between us then, it’s positively crackling now.
We look at each other, and before I can decide on a next move, Tris stands. Like he did when Zara came in earlier.
His intention, crystal clear.
21
Tristano
I will not be waylaid this time.
My heart thuds in anticipation that’s been building for hours. Every glance, the touch of our shoulders in the kitchen, when I held her, the sweet laughter that carried from across the bar to my ears . . .
The memory of her lips on mine.
Evie’s chest rises and falls as her breathing becomes heavy, like my own. Just before I pull her head toward me, a familiar scent of cedar and lemon fills my lungs.
And then, she is mine.
Without words, our lips crash together. When her mouth opens, I take advantage, plunging my tongue inside, tangling with her own. My hands make their way to the sides of her head, presumably steading her but helping to steady me too.
Minutes tick by as her kiss consumes me, making our first one feel like a peck. I can’t get enough of her. Whether this should be happening or not doesn’t matter.
“Tris,” she murmurs against my mouth.
I break away, thinking it’s too much. But her eyes say otherwise.
And so do her hands.
They slide up my arms, her fingers slipping inside each sleeve.
“I’ve wanted to do that all night,” she says, her hands halfway between simply touching and massaging. “Actually, all weekend.”
She is so damn pretty.
“To feel my arms?” I ask, already knowing the answer but wanting her to say it. Wanting her to admit she wants me, even if it’s a fraction of how much I want her.
“Mm-hmm. And to kiss you like that.”
I return the gesture. Groaning as my hand slips under her shirt, upwards to her breasts, I let it rest there, without going any farther.
“If you had any idea what I’ve been thinking about you all weekend, you’d be running out of the restaurant right now.”
“You think so?”
