Page 19 of Ever Mine

“Sorry, ice cube went down the wrong way,” I say. “Carry on.”

“Oh, well, I was just going to say that the best thing about good romance novels is the anticipation. That feeling that something’s about to happen, even when you’re pretending it’s not.”

“That’s what good writing does,” I say, aware of how close her fingers are to mine on the table. “It builds a promise.”

Her eyes lift to meet mine. “And then delivers?”

“If it’s done right.”

She smiles, the kind that curls slowly, like a secret unfolding. “Do you think we’re good at that? Building promises?”

I let out a low laugh. “We’re certainly trying.”

Her gaze lingers on my mouth, and suddenly, neither of us is pretending anymore.

I set my glass down, studying her. “Do you ever think about it? Your first time, I mean. How you’d want it to be?”

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t look away. “Sometimes.”

“And?”

“I guess I picture it being… gentle, but real. Not perfect, just honest. The kind of moment you remember because of how it feels, not because it checks some box.”

I nod slowly, heart thudding far too hard. “That’s a good fantasy.”

Her lips curve. “What about you?” Then she laughs. “I meant if you had any thoughts about how tonight would go. I know you’re not fantasizing about losing your virginity. That probably happened years ago.”

I let out a low laugh. “At the moment, mine involves trying very hard not to kiss you before we finish dinner.”

She goes still, then whispers, “You could fail at that.”

That’s all the invitation I need.

I lean across the table, brushing a crumb from her lip with my thumb. Her breath catches; my pulse roars in my ears.

“Addison. You’re so goddamn beautiful.”

“You don’t have to seduce me, Thorne. I’m here for this.”

I sit back a bit. “This isn’t seduction. This is the truth. You’re beautiful, Addison, and if no one has ever told you that, then you’ve surrounded yourself with a passel of idiots.”

“I’d like to get started before I lose my nerve,” she says.

“We don’t have to do anything.”

“Stop saying that. If you don’t want to go through with it, then I understand. But I want this. I want this with you.”

I stand, grab her hand, and pull her into my bedroom. “I’m not sure I have the patience to go slowly.”

“Then, I guess we start with the clothes,” she says. Her dress comes off her body, and she tosses it behind her. Pauses a moment, then turns back and retrieves it and drapes it nicely over the chair in the corner.

It’s on my tongue to pledge my undying love to her in that moment, because that was so authentic and real, and it’s everything that I know to be true about this woman.

I pull off my own shirt and drape it with her dress.

When I step back over to her, she reaches for me.

“Can I touch you?” she asks.