A tingle starts between my legs, and I have the overwhelming urge to take his hand and place it over my sex.
Before I can act on the impulse, his hand comes up slowly and cups my jaw. Gentle despite the calluses, despite the strength in those fingers. Gray eyes search mine, asking, then he leans in.
The kiss is brief. Fierce. Like everything about him, controlled intensity barely leashed. Electric and certain and completely undeniable. When he pulls back, it's only far enough to rest his forehead againstmine.
His hand slides from my jaw to the back of my neck, the other wraps around my waist. Drawing me closer. I step into his embrace without thinking, and a sound escapes him. Low, almost pained. Satisfaction and restraint and want all tangled together.
My scent responds, the sweetness engulfing us as slick oozes from me and saturates my panties.
"Calder," I whisper against his shoulder.
"I know." His voice is rough. "I can smell it. You’re—" He stops, jaw clenching where it rests against my temple. Everything he's not saying pressed into the space between heartbeats. “You’re beautiful.”
My heart is leaping. “I thought you looked like a movie star when I first saw you.”
He chuckles, low and filled with joy. “Any movie star in particular?”
“No, just one perfect image in my head.”
He strokes my head and holds me tighter. “Elowen, I’m far from perfect.”
“To me you are.”
His thumb brushes my cheekbone, and he steps back, lets his hands fall away even though I can see the effort it takes. “I only hope I never let you down.”
“You could never.”
Tyler and Julian arrive together just past noon, Tyler carrying a bulky brown paper bag.
"Brought lunch. Figured we'd all be here." Tyler spreads the contents of the bag across the clean section of workbench, sandwiches, fruit, something wrapped that smells like cinnamon bagels.
We eat together around the new bench, conversation easy and punctuated by comfortable silence.
“Seraphina said she slept like a baby after your chamomile tea,” Tyler says. “I think she wants to take out a subscription.”
Calder smiles. “Could be the start of something big.”
“You would have to register if you were going to take it seriously.” Julian studies his sandwich before biting off the corner of the crust. His phone buzzes, and something softens in his expression, the first real smile I've seen from him. "My sister."
He turns the screen toward us. A video of a girl mid-backflip on a balance beam, sticking the landing.
"Pen's competing at nationals next month," he explains, pocketing the phone. "She sends videos when she nails something new. She wants me to know gymnastics takes as much precision as science." His voice holds affection, maybe a hint of pride. "She's not wrong.”
“Is that hard for you to admit?” Calder asks.
“Not as hard as admitting defeat when we beat his best gift ever.” Tyler hides his laughter behind his sandwich.
“You forget,” Julian says, “that this is an open competition, and anything you can do, I can do better.”
“Whoa, fighting talk.” Calder places a hand above the table. Tyler places his on top, followed by Julian.
“Guys,” I interject, “what’s the prize?”
“You,” they all say together.
Later, we drag ourselves back to the building for classes.
Julian gathers his notes. Calder cleans his tools. Both heading toward campus buildings in opposite directions.
