“I’ve been working on this song all afternoon,” she says, her arms wrapping around my neck, and then she’s kissing me and I forget about everything else.
She tastes like something sweet, probably that strawberry chapstick she’s always wearing, and I can’t get enough of her. I kiss her deeper, my hands sliding under her sweatshirt to touch bare skin, and she makes this little sound that drives me absolutely crazy.
“Missed you,” she mumbles against my mouth when we finally break apart for air, both of us breathing hard.
“Missed you too,” I tell her, my hands still on her waist, thumbs brushing circles on her hipbones. “So fucking much. Today was torture.”
“Tell me about it,” she says, pulling back just enough to look at me, and her eyes are sparkling with happiness and heat. “I didn’t expect you to get back from Seattle so fast. Feels like you just texted that you were leaving Robert’s.”
“Yeah well, I drive fast,” I say as I lean in to kiss her again because I can’t help myself. “It’s kind of my thing.”
She rolls her eyes, laughing against my mouth. “How did it go with Robert?”
“Good. Contract talk is still ongoing but he seems optimistic.” I brush my fingers along her jaw, loving how she leans into my touch. “Ferrari’s been making noises about wanting me back in the sim more often, which Thomas thinks is a good sign.”
She grins, her hands sliding down to rest on my chest. “I’m so happy for you.” She pauses, biting her lip in that way that tells me she’s excited about something. “Speaking of good news, I got an email this afternoon from the label!”
The way her whole face lights up when she’s happy—I could watch that forever. “Yeah? What’d they say?”
She pulls back completely, practically bouncing now as she grabs her phone from the nightstand. “Okay so basically Maya said they’re super impressed with the Instagram growth and they want me to come to LA!”
“Lark, that’s incredible!” I pull her back against me, lifting her off her feet for a second. Her laugh is bright and unrestrained, and I want to bottle that sound. Want to hear it every day for the rest of my life. The thought should scare me but it doesn’t.
“I know!” she says when I set her down, her hands gripping my arms. “They want to talk about my sound, my vision, where I see my career going. It’s all happening next weekend.”
“That’s huge,” I say. “You’re going to kill it.”
“I’m terrified,” she admits, but she’s still grinning. “But also so excited I could throw up. Maybe both at the same time.”
“They’d be insane not to sign you,” I tell her firmly, my hands on her shoulders so she has to look at me. “Your songs, your voice—you’re the whole package, Lark.”
“You have to say that, you’re sleeping with me,” she teases.
“I’d say it even if I wasn’t,” I counter.
She laughs. “It’s next weekend. Are you free to come? I mean, if you don’t have Formula One commitments or anything. I know the timing might not work with your schedule.”
“I’ll be there,” I say without hesitation. I’d cancel whatever I had to cancel. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Her smile could light up the entire fucking city. “Really?”
“Really,” I confirm, pulling her close again. “I want to be there. Plus I could use a few days in LA anyway. We can make a trip out of it.”
“Thank god,” she breathes, melting against me. “I’ve been dying to tell you all day. I wanted to tell you in person but I’ve been going crazy keeping it to myself.”
Warmth spreads through my chest hearing that she was thinking about me, that I’m the person she wanted to share this with first. That I get to be the one here for these moments.
“I’m glad you waited,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “This deserves celebrating in person.”
“You know,” she says as a wicked smile spreads across her face, the one that makes me want to doverybad things to her. “I was thinking about you evenbeforethat email came through.”
“Oh yeah?” I slide my hands down to her hips, pulling her flush against me, feeling the heat of her through our clothes. My pulse kicks up. “What were you thinking about?”
“I think,” she says slowly, deliberately, rising up on her toes so her mouth is barely an inch from mine, her breath warm against my lips, “it’s better if I actually show you.”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, my hands tightening on her hips. “You’re pretty good with words. Songwriter and all.”
“Jack, if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now?—”
