She pressed herself closer, body trembling against mine, fingers knotting in my hair so tight it stung in the best way. I backed her into the doorframe, one arm braced above her head, the other sliding down her spine to pull her hips flush to me. She arched up with a soft whimper that vibrated into my chest, legs parting instinctively so I could settle between them. The friction was immediate, searing—she gasped into my mouth, the sound ragged and unguarded, and I swallowed it like it was mine to keep.
We kissed like we were running out of time, like if we stopped, the world outside would rush in and take this from us. Teeth grazed lips, breaths came in sharp, uneven bursts, her nails scraping lightly down my neck as if marking territory she was terrified she might lose. Every time I tried to ease back for air, she chased me, lips swollen and seeking, whispering my name against my mouth like a plea.
When we finally broke apart, foreheads pressed together, we were both shaking. Her eyes were wet, lashes clumped, cheeks flushed so dark it looked like fever. Mine burned too. I could feel the pulse hammering in my throat, every nerve raw and exposed.
“I’m so scared this is the last easy thing we get. But I want it anyway. I want every stupid, perfect second before it all changes. Too much is going on.”
I cupped her face, thumbs brushing the damp tracks on her cheeks. My own voice came out wrecked. “Then we take the seconds. All of them. And if it gets hard, I’m still right here. Holding your hand under the table. Stealing kisses in parking lots. I’m not letting go, Becca. Not unless you tell me to.”
She let out a shaky, watery laugh, then surged up to kiss me again—slower this time, deeper, like she was sealing a promise. When she pulled back, her smile was tremulous but real.
“Come on,” she said, voice still husky, lips brushing mine with every word. “Before I cry and ruin the tough-girl vibe I’m trying to project.”
I laughed, rough and low, stole one more bruising kiss, slow, lingering, full of everything we weren’t saying. We got dressed, grabbed jackets, keys, and each other’s hands, stepping out into the cool morning air still tangled together, still breathing hard, still holding on like the world might try to pry us apart any second.
Chapter 28
Levi
We climbed into my truck, the cab still smelling faintly of pine air freshener and yesterday’s coffee. When I started the engine, the heater kicked on with a low rumble as Becca slid across the bench seat until her thigh pressed against mine. She buckled in, then rested her hand high on my leg, fingers tracing lazy circles that made my grip tighten on the wheel.
I glanced at her. “You’re trouble.”
“Only for you.” She leaned in, kissed the corner of my jaw, then lower, teeth grazing my neck just enough to make me hiss. “Drive carefully. You need to focus.”
“Too late for that.” I shifted into gear, one hand on the wheel, the other covering hers, pressing her palm harder against my thigh. “You’ve been distracting me since—forever.”
She laughed and slid her hand higher, fingertips brushing the growing bulge in my jeans. “I used to wonder what it would feel like to kiss you.”
“Now you know.” I caught her wrist, brought her hand to my mouth, kissed her knuckles, then sucked one finger between mylips for a second—long enough to make her breath catch. “And I know what it feels like to have you come on my tongue, don’t I?”
Her cheeks flushed pink. She squirmed beside me, thighs pressing together. “Keep talking like that, and we’re not making it to Violet’s.”
I glanced at the empty stretch of road ahead, then at the narrow turnout coming up on the right—old logging access, half-hidden by ferns and firs. I signaled, slowed, and pulled in, easing the truck behind a cluster of trees until we were out of sight from the main road.
She raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. “Levi?”
“Just need a minute.” I killed the engine and turned to her. “Come here.”
She didn’t hesitate. She climbed into my lap with her knees bracketing my hips, hands framing my face. We kissed hard, messy, hungry—tongues sliding, teeth grazing, her hips rocking down against the hard line of me through denim. My hands slid under her T-shirt, palms flat on her bare back, then lower, cupping her ass and pulling her tighter against me. She moaned into my mouth, fingers knotting in my hair.
I broke the kiss just enough to rasp against her lips, “You make me lose my damn mind.”
“Good,” she whispered, grinding down, slow and deliberate. “I think I like you wrecked for me.”
“I’m always wrecked for you.” I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring her before I pulled back, breathing hard. “But if we don’t stop, we’re gonna fog up the windows and miss coffee entirely.”
She laughed, breathless, forehead pressed to mine. “Okay. Coffee first. Then… later.”
“Later. Tonight,” I agreed, voice rough. I kissed her once more, then helped her slide back to her side of the seat.
I started the truck again and pulled out onto the road. She settled against my shoulder, hand resting on my thigh, thumb stroking gently now instead of teasing.
The Violet’s sign came into view, neon still off in the early light, parking lot half full with the usual morning crowd. I pulled into a spot near the door, killed the engine, and turned to her.
She looked at me—eyes soft, relaxed, happy—and smiled like the world was finally quiet enough for her to breathe. “Ready?” she asked.
I laced my fingers with hers. “With you? Always.”
