A humorous snort escapes when I spot my few things in the chaos, thrown in with hers like they belong there.
She slips a headband on and gets to work, methodical in every step.
God, she’s beautiful.
“Are you going to watch me?” she asks with a bemused smile as she pats serum onto her cheeks.
“That’s my plan.”
I could do this every day and never grow bored of it—of her.
She huffs and finishes her routine with the red-light mask. A finger points in my direction before it’s powered on. “Don’t you dare laugh.”
I slide behind her, my arms bracketing her in, and rest my chin on her shoulder.
“Laugh at you?” I mumble, kissing the column of her neck. “Never. I’ll only ever laugh with you, Sofía.”
“Give me a couple minutes?” she asks, lifting her hand to touch my jaw.
I press a kiss to her shoulder and step back. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”
Always,I want to add.I’ll always be here. Next week. Five years from now. Thirty years down the road.
If she calls, I’ll be there.
The silence in the room suffocates me, my thoughts moving a mile a minute. I throw myself into my work, trying to redirectthe energy into something productive—trying to steer my mind away from what’s becoming clearer by the minute.
I am falling in love with Sofía.
I’m halfway through the footage of the cassowary, making notes of where voice-overs should be and where I need to make additional edits, when the bathroom door clicks open, and all hope of getting any work done dies a brutal death at the sight of her lacy pajamas, a silky dark-green set that hugs her curves.
She struts over and presses my laptop shut, discarding it to the nightstand before dragging me out of the desk chair.
“You owe me a pair of panties,” she says, her head tilted back, lips pursed to hide a smile.
I steal a kiss, my hands finding her waist as she walks me backward until my legs hit the edge of the mattress. Her palm splays against the center of my chest, and she pushes me onto the bed.
“I did say you could convince me to give them back,” I counter, knowing damn well all she has to do is ask, and it’s hers. Anything she ever wants. If she utters the words, I would make it happen, even if I had to move the damn mountain myself.
Those brown eyessparkle. She trails a hand along my jaw, leaving a wake of energy on my skin.
My heart pounds in my chest as she straddles me, drowning out the flurry of unwelcome thoughts.
“I’ve changed my mind,” she declares, fingering my waistband. “You can keep them.”
“Oh?”
It’s the only response I can offer her. My brain is short-circuiting while she plays with the ties of my shorts, never tugging hard enough to unravel the knot.
“For a trade, of course.”
“A trade?”
“You keep the pantiesifyou do that thing with your tongue again.”
Smug pride slams into me. “Been thinking about that, have you?”
“Do we have a deal?”
