He disappears around the corner.
Winnie looks up at me, still smiling, eyes still wet. “He’s going to tell everyone.”
“Obviously.”
“Are you okay with that?”
I brush her hair back from her face, tuck it behind her ear. “Yeah,” I say. “I am.”
She’s still laughing when I kiss her again.
It starts soft—just my mouth on hers, her hand gripping my tie—but then she gives it a tug, and suddenly soft isn’t anywhere near enough.
Her back meets the wall, and she gasps, and I swallow the sound.
“Banks.” Breathless. “Logan literally just—”
“I know.”
“We’re in a hallway—”
“I know.”
She kisses me back anyway, which is really the only thing that matters.
Then I hear it. Voices. Footsteps around the corner, getting louder.
I grab her hand and move.
There’s a supply closet ten feet down. I try thehandle—unlocked—and we tumble inside. I kick the door shut behind us.
Dark. Cramped. She’s pressed against the door, and I’m pressed against her, both of us breathing hard, and I couldn’t care less about the setting. I pick her up, hands under her thighs, and she wraps around me automatically. I kiss her jaw, her neck, the spot just below her ear that makes her shiver. She tips her head back and lets me.
“I missed you.” Her voice comes out unsteady. “I was so scared I’d lost you.”
“You didn’t.” I press my mouth to her throat. “I’m right here.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Her hands slide into my hair. Mine find the hem of the jersey and drift underneath to warm skin, and she makes a sound that I’m going to be thinking about for a long time.
“Banks—”
“I know.” I drag my mouth back to hers. “I know, I just—I need—”
“Me too,” she whispers. “I need you too.”
Then voices again, right outside the door. Someone laughing. Keys jingling.
We go completely still.
I have one hand under her jersey, and her legs are hooked around my waist, and we are absolutely, completely frozen.
The footsteps pass. The voices fade.
I drop my forehead to her shoulder, breathing hard.
