Eventually, Noah lifted his head.
“One more thing.”
“What?”
He looked at my mouth.
The request was clear, but I waited.
“Kiss me before you go.”
I touched his jaw.
“Are you steady?”
“Annoyingly.”
“Headache?”
“Still three.”
“Any—”
“Reid.”
I kissed him.
The first contact was light.
Noah’s breath caught.
His hand moved from my back to my shoulder, holding me closer.
I kissed him again, slower.
His mouth opened beneath mine.
The hunger in his response surprised both of us.
Noah tilted his head with instinctive confidence. His tongue touched mine and retreated, then returned when I followed. A soft sound vibrated in his chest.
Heat moved through me.
I kept one hand firm at his waist, holding his balance without taking control of the kiss.
Noah deepened it.
His fingers slid into my hair.
The rest of the apartment fell away.
There was only the pressure of his mouth, the rough catch of breath, and familiar desire arriving through unfamiliar time.
I ended the kiss before his knees gave out.
He remained close, eye closed.
“Still steady?” I asked.
