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She laughs.

Soft.

Sleepy.

Happy.

And Christ, I want to bottle that sound and keep it somewhere nobody else can touch.

Mine.

There it is again. I should correct it.

I don't.

Instead, I kiss the corner of her mouth.

“Come on, Firecracker.”

“Where are we going?”

“My bed.”

Her eyebrow rises. “That sounded suspiciously like an order.”

“It was.”

“And if I say no?”

The question is teasing. My answer isn't.

“Then I put you down, get you whatever you need, and spend the rest of the night wondering how the hell I'm supposed to sleep knowing you're down the hall.”

Her expression softens.

Fuck.

There's that look again.

The one that makes me feel exposed in ways nakedness never could.

“And if I say yes?”

I hold her gaze.

“Then I take you to bed. And maybe we can do this again.”

A beat passes. Then another. Her fingers curl around the back of my neck.

“Yes.”

One simple word. Somehow, it means more than the first time she said it. Because the first yes was heat. And this one feels like trust.

And I am suddenly, painfully aware that I haven't earned all of hers yet.

That thought should be enough to stop me.

It isn't.