Page 91 of Keepsakes and Kismet

Snapping myself out of the daze, I say, “It’s all good. And thanks for the advice. I might take you up on your… uh, offer.”

“Say no more. Do you want ribbed, tingling, lubricated, flavored, or glow-in-the-dark?”

“Glow in the… What the fuck, Carter? It’s not a scavenger hunt. If it happens, she’ll be able to find my dick without lighting it up like the Empire State Building.”

Carter blinks. “Wow, Cal. Brag, much?”

“I’m leaving now. Goodbye, Carter James.” I pick up my water bottle and head for the showers.

He shouts after me, his voice echoing throughout the empty space. “Full-naming me? In my own gym?”

“You know what you did!” I call behind me.

“Have fun tonight! I love this for you, Callum William!”

* * *

I knock a few times on Peyton’s apartment door before I hear fast footsteps heading my way. She throws the door open and wraps her arms around me. Like an electric jolt between us, my body buzzes when we collide.

“Fancy running into you,” I tease, soaking in the feel of her body against mine.

Peyton still hasn’t let go of me, and her silvery laugh floats through the air. It’s so bright and bubbly and infectious—her, summed up. She pulls back and pins me with her gaze.

“I’m so excited you’re here. I have pizza, and I have you. What more do I need?”

I have you. It’s like her words are carbonated, and I can almost feel the popping sensation as they settle in my stomach.

I stare into her sage eyes. “Pizza and you sounds pretty good to me, too.”

My arm stays wrapped around her waist as we walk into the kitchen. A pizza box sits propped open on the counter, and the smell of basil and garlic makes my stomach rumble.

She’s wearing jeans and a blue knit sweater with tiny navy blue polka dots on it. A matching bow holds half of her long hair back, the rest cascading down her back. “I like your outfit, Pey. You look beautiful.”

She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Thanks. You look great, too.”

I glance down at my simple outfit—jeans and a green Henley—satisfied that she likes it. Peyton steps away to grab some plates. We both take a slice of pepperoni and sit down at her table for two, smiling at each other. Through mouthfuls of pizza, Peyton tells me a sordid tale about a recent job influencing at a funeral home. I counter with my inspection at a tattoo studio in Sylvania where I saw someone get a washing machine inked on their ass cheek.

After we’re sufficiently full, Peyton announces that it’s “ice cream time,” and walks to the freezer. She brings a pint of mint chip ice cream to the table. I’m not really a mint dessert person, but I keep her company, taking small bites in between her huge ones until she leans back in her chair and wipes her hands on a napkin. “Alright. If I eat anymore, I’ll be too full.”

“Come here, already, then,” I gently demand. “I’ve missed you.”

“It’s been one day,” she laughs, walking toward me anyway.

“One day too long, I think, based on our track record.”

Her vanilla and cinnamon scent reaches me before she does. She rests her hands on my shoulders, sliding her fingers down my arms before sitting on my right leg. Her touch only deepens my craving for her mouth on mine.

“Can I kiss you, now?” I murmur.

Heat flickers in her eyes. “Yes.”

I trail my fingers along her neck. “Here.” I press my thumb on her lower lip. “And here, with tongue.”

And in no time at all, my lips are settled against the column of her throat. I linger there, not wanting to break contact, but not wanting to overstep the boundary I set, either. I breathe into her skin, unmoving, yet dialed all the way up. I can feel my jeans tighten around me. There’s no way to hide that everything about her turns me on.

I’m about to move my mouth over hers, but she shifts her weight on my leg. When I put space between us, I find her staring at the outline of my cock, which is clearly visible through my jeans.

I adjust my pants and study her expression. “What is it, Pey?”