Page 142 of Forever Relentless

I glanced up at him, and the look in his eyes sent heat straight through my chest again.

“Five minutes,” I told him quietly.

“Five minutes?”

“So it doesn’t look suspicious.”

Noah huffed a quiet laugh.

Someone started clapping across the room, and Dustin groaned as Dante looked over at us, a plea in his eye. With a sigh, Dust grabbed Hadley’s hand and pulled her toward the small crowd gathering around the quarterback.

The room swelled with noise again. But suddenly the space between Noah and me felt much smaller.

His hand brushed the small of my back casually, making my breath catch.

“Careful,” I warned him, looking around, taking a step away from him.

“You’re the one who set the timer.”

I turned slightly so I could look up at him properly.

“Three minutes now.” I’d meant it as a tease, but my throat was dry, and I sounded more raspy than confident.

He smiled slowly. That smile was going to ruin me, I knew it was.

“Generous.” He dipped his head slightly. “It’s not until you’re up close that you see the freckles over your nose.” He pulled back with a grin made of sin. “Where else do you have freckles?”

I turned away from him, finished my drink, and set the glass down on a table.

Across the room, someone cheered loudly as Dante finished whatever replay he’d been telling them. Dustin was standing close to him for support. I noticed Savannah and Hadley had both stepped away from the crowd.

Noah glanced over once, then back at me.

“Should you be over there?” I asked him.

“Fuck no.”

I didn’t argue.

“That’s five,” I murmured.

“Your place?” his voice was warm and rich.

This time, I didn’t argue. “I’ll go first.”

“Okay.”

I slipped out the front door without saying goodbye. The night air hit me, cool and quiet compared to the chaos inside.

For a moment, I just stood there in front of the art building, then with confident steps, I headed home. I didn’t know how long it would take him to follow, but I knew he would.

I’d taken off my shoes, checked my hair, applied some lip gloss and poured two glasses of wine when a knock sounded on the door.

I was doing this. He’d be in my bed. Honestly, by this stage, it felt inevitable. God, I hope he was good and knew what he was doing. The buildup was killing me. His mouth skills were . . . yeah. He would know what he was doing. I was sure of it.

I crossed the floor and opened the door. He leaned against the doorframe, his jacket over his shoulder, the top two buttons of his shirt undone.

If he hadn’t already made me a wet mess earlier, the look he gave me would have done it alone.