“We live together, Zadie. You didn’t have to brave my family dinner just to see me.”
“Oh, I’m not here for you…I’m here for Solange’s garlic mashed potatoes.” The corner of her mouth tipped up. “I’d walk through fire for those.”
“Fair enough.” I closed the distance between us.
She took a step back. But I didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. Didn’t let the panicked look that flashed across her face change my trajectory.
I moved until we were toe to toe and my hands were firm around her waist.
“What are you doing?” Her breath hitched.
“Apologizing.”
“You—”
I kissed her.
Not gently. Not tentatively. My mouth found hers with a certainty that had been building since the last time I’d tasted her. The connection ignited something in my chest—deep, consuming, and so fundamentally right that the rest of the world could have caught fire and I wouldn’t have noticed.
I wanted her. Right there. Against the wall of my brother’s front hallway, with his kids in the next room and the smell of turkey in the air.
But I broke the kiss before that impulse could win.
Her lips chased mine for a second before she caught herself and opened her eyes.
“I needed to apologize in advance,” I said. “For kissing you without permission. Again.”
She let out a breath that was half laugh, half surrender. “You’ve got a lot of making up to do if that’s how you plan to apologize. I see a vicious cycle forming.”
“I should stop while I’m ahead, then. Wouldn’t want you thinking I’m only after one thing.”
“Cal.” The humor drained from her expression, replaced by something raw. “If you only wanted sex, we’d have finished this dance a long time ago. I know you want more.” Her shoulders rose and fell. “You want commitment. The fairy tale. And I’m afraid I can’t give you that.”
“Fairy tales are just stories.” I kept her close, my fingers gripping her harder. “I don’t want a story, Zadie. I want you. The real, unfiltered version. And I want to build something with you that no story could fucking touch. “
She didn’t move. Didn’t give me a hint of what she was thinking.
“You’re already here.” I tilted her chin up. “So have dinner with us. Get to know my brother and his family. Watch how I am with them. And then try to tell me I’m not serious about you.”
She was quiet, her eyes traveling over my face before settling on my mouth. Her hand came up, and she pressed her thumb against my lower lip.
“You’ve borrowed some of my lipstick.” Her voice was soft. “Can’t have you sitting through dinner like that. Your nieces will get ideas about makeovers.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
She wiped the color from my mouth, her thumb tracing slowly across my skin.
“Okay,” she whispered, her fingers lingering at my jaw. “Let’s eat.”
I caught her hand before she could pull away, kissed the inside of her wrist, then let go. “After you.”
We walked toward the dining room together. She was quiet, but the tension in her shoulders had eased, and the walls she’d been hiding behind had hairline fractures running through them.
I didn’t need her to say yes tonight. I just needed her to stop saying no.
Because there was going to be a future for us.
All three of us.
