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Mal gives me a slow once-over. "You look scared."
"Excited to embrace a challenge."
"I can walk you through it."
"If you want."
He nods and moves into the kitchen. He points to the small pot. "Get out the canola oil and put the burner on high."
"Canola oil?"
"What?"
"That's allowed?"
He laughs. "You shouldn't mock health conditions."
"Is being a perfectionist a medical condition now?"
He smiles and wraps his arms around me.
God, I could die here in his arms.
It's perfect.
Everything outside the room fades away. I'm not worried about his mom. I'm not anxious about Carrie not replying to my texts. I'm not guilty that I haven't called my mom in a very long time.
I'm here.
In the moment.
Alive.
I rise to my tiptoes and press my lips to Mal's. He tastes good, like honey and green tea.
My hands tug at his t-shirt.
My hips shift to press against his.
He slides his hands to my ass and holds my body against his. "Lacey…" He pulls me closer. Kisses me harder.
His tongue slides around my mouth, claiming it, filling me with that sense that everything is right.
We both need out of our heads and into our bodies. I don't care that he's been hinting that he wants to go to the hospital alone. I get that. This is his family and it's Mal.
The man thinks he's supposed to hold up the whole world on his own.
I reach up to run my fingers through his hair.
My need pours into him.
His need pours into me.
He slides his hand into my dress and cups my breast over my bra.
Then his thumb slides into my bra, over my nipple.
"Fuck,
