Her wig has shifted halfway off her head by now.
I snort. “Hold still.”
“WHAT?”
“It’s crooked.”
She immediately starts laughing again, her hand reaching the wig. Then I pull it free and shove it into my pocket.
The fact that she doesn’t care—not even a little bit—is somehow my favorite part of the night.
Her hair is damp from dancing. Messy. Wild.
Beautiful.
Instead of fixing it, she runs both hands through it and makes it even worse.
My heart doesn’t stand a fucking chance.
I don’t waste a second and lean to slam my mouth on hers. Almost as if expecting it, she opens her lips before I’m even close enough, and her tongue darts out, taking me in. Devouring me in the middle of this club.
I see the flickering light against my closed lids. The dizzying feeling of her mouth moving on mine while my heart is beating in my throat, the music drumming in my chest, makes my knees weak.
“God,” I gasp against her lips, our foreheadspressed together.
Then she rises on her tiptoes. “I want to be unhinged tonight, Levi. I don’t want to be tamed,” she says breathlessly, her lips brushing against my ear. “I don’tneedto be tamed.”
I smile at her, nodding slowly. “My feral, feral Cece,” I murmur into her ear before dipping my head down again.
But instead of planting a claiming kiss on her, I drag my lips against her shimmering throat. Tasting the salt of her skin that had my knees weak since the moment I noticed that perspiration of utter freedom.
There’s no alcohol in my system. I’m just drugged on disinhibition and my Cece.
A few minutes later, the bass still rattles through the floor, our feet still moving. But there’s an exhaustion lining her every step. So we stay there for a couple more songs—on her insistence.
When we eventually leave, my hand never leaves hers. Not once.
She lost her precious fur coat somewhere on the dance floor. So she’s looking adorably consumed in my oversized blazer.
But just as the cool night air hits us the moment we step outside, two bright flashes erupt from a few feet away.
Cameras.
Of course.
Cece immediately stiffens beside me. The old fear, the old scrutiny possessing her. And maybe even me. Without thinking, I lean down and press a kiss against her temple.
And then we walk toward my car, our hands still clasped.
A few more cameras flash. People stare as we pass them by. But I keep walking us around the block to where my car is.
Somewhere in my mind, I know that rumors will soon be spreading. The articles will keep whipping up new, inaccurate stories around what happened here.
But I don’t give a damn. Because tonight reminded me of something important. That those neat, careful pieces of us can’t hold our love through this storm.
And somewhere between the neon lights and the deafening music, I realize that I’m probably never getting that old inhibition back.
Not when it comes to her.
