Page 132 of And Now, Back to You

I think of the way the girls ran upstairs when I dropped them off. The happy chatter. Aiden’s beleaguered sigh from the living room.

I know more about Olivia Rodrigo’s discography than I ever wanted to know, Jackson.

“Yeah, it’s good.” I let myself collapse onto the couch and turn my face toward her. I’ve been missing this. Seeing Delilah at the end of the day. Having someone to talk to and share with. Unpacking all the things twisting me into knots and having someone carefully work their fingers through the strands, smoothing and settling until I’m calm again. We only spent one week in the mountains, but it was enough to have me wanting her in all the empty spaces around me.

“I’m sorry about our lunch.”

Her smile dims and she readjusts her legs, tucking them close to her chest. “It’s fine, Jackson.”

I reach out and curl my fingers around her ankle, tugging until her foot is pressed against my thigh. I trace the jut of her ankle bone, then squeeze. “We haven’t had much time together since we got back.”

“It’s all right.”

Frustration plucks at me. She’s so good at minimizing her own reactions, I sometimes don’t know what she’s really thinking underneath everything else.

“Do you forgive me?” I ask.

Her smile is half-hearted, her eyes meeting mine for the briefest of seconds before floating away again. “Of course I do.” She tucks her chin to her shoulder and looks toward the kitchen. “Do you want some lo—”

“Don’t do that,” I interrupt.

Her lips quirk. “No? I’ve got egg rolls too.”

“I’m not talking about the egg rolls.” I turn so I’m facing her fully, draping one of her legs over my lap, the other trapped between the side of the couch and my hip. My arm stretches out over the back of the couch, fingers reaching. “I want you to tell me the truth. Tell me what you want. I want—I want you to demand more,” I say.

She stares up at me, her brown eyes cautious. “I don’t understand.”

I shift again, closer, the inside of her thigh pressed to my rib cage. I pinch the hem of her ridiculous shirt and rub the material between thumb and forefinger. Affection tangles with desire, so sharp and warm I have to swallow around it.

“Don’t smile when you’re not happy and don’t forgive me if I’m not forgiven. Talk it through with me when I’ve hurt your feelings.” I let go of her shirt. “Ask me to do better. Tell me what you need.”

The smile she’s holding on to like her life depends on it slips, inch by inch, until there’s only Delilah left. More solemn than I’ve ever seen her.

“I don’t know where we stand now that we’re home,” she confesses quietly. “I don’t want to lose all the things we let ourselves have in the mountains just because we’re here.”

I nod to myself, settling my palms on her thighs. I ease them up her legs until my fingers are braced around her hips, thumbs digging into that dip that drives me insane. The material of her shirt bunches at my wrists. I hold myself perfectly still.

“I don’t want to lose that either,” I tell her.

She nods, her attention caught somewhere between my eyes and my mouth. “Okay.”

I shake my head.

“No, Delilah,” I say softly. “You’re taking it too easy on me. Do you want to be friends, or do you want to be something else?”

Her eyes are wide as she gazes up at me. Almost afraid. “I want to be your best friend,” she whispers.

My throat tightens. I turn and press up on my knees, hovering over her before planting one hand by her head, the other at her hip. She’s a perfect fit for me, all her softest parts fitting against my hardest edges. I lean forward and brush my nose against her cheek, my lips ghosting over the corner of her mouth.

“Demand more from me,” I rasp. “I promise I’ll give it to you.”

Relief eases across her face as her eyes search mine. She’s starting to understand now. Her hands find the front of my sweater and she pulls my body down to hers. Her chin tips up and she catches my mouth with hers. She does exactly as I requested; harsh, demanding kisses that punish. I grunt and match her frenzy, working my mouth against hers, sucking in a sharp breath when her teeth clamp down against my bottom lip.

I missed this.

“Shit,” I mutter.

She soothes the pinch with a swipe of her tongue. Her hands haven’t moved from the front of my sweater, like she’s afraid I’m going to change my mind and pull away. I sink more of my weight against her, urging her thighs wider with mine to make room for myself.