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"I know. You have work. I have work. We're both adults with responsibilities." She stands up and moves around the table until she's standing in front of me. "But I've been thinking about you all morning. About last night. About what we didn't do."

My hands find her waist automatically. "And?"

"And I think I'm done being so vigilant."

"You sure about that?"

"I'm sure about you. Isn't that enough?"

I pull her down into my lap, and she comes willingly, straddling me in the chair. "Yeah," I say against her mouth. "That's enough."

And then I kiss her, and everything else can wait.

Chapter 5 — Lyla

His mouth is on mine and his hands are on my waist and I'm in his lap in this rickety kitchen chair, and all I can think is finally.

I've been thinking about this since I woke up this morning. Since last night when I asked him to stop. Since yesterday at Mae's when he looked at me across that table and I realized I wanted him in ways I haven't wanted anyone in a long time.

Maybe ever.

His kiss is different from last night. Less tentative, more certain. Like now he's allowing himself to really touch me.

His hands slide under my sweater, thumbs brushing the bare skin just above my jeans, and I make a sound I didn't know I could make.

"Bedroom," I manage to say against his mouth.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure. I'm done second-guessing this."

He stands, lifting me with him like I weigh nothing, and I wrap my legs around his waist. We're kissing the whole way down the short hallway, and he only stops when we reach the bedroom doorway.

"Last chance to change your mind," he says, his voice already rough with want.

"I'm not changing my mind."

He carries me to the bed and sets me down on the edge of it, then steps back slightly. Just looking at me. His eyes are dark and his breathing is uneven, and there's something in his expression that makes my stomach flip.

"What?" I ask.

"Just looking at you."

"You've been looking at me since yesterday."

"Not like this." He reaches for the hem of my sweater. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

He pulls it over my head slowly, and suddenly I'm sitting there in my jeans and bra in the middle of the afternoon with a man I met yesterday.

The light is streaming through the window, nowhere to hide, and I'm suddenly very aware that I'm about to have sex with someone who barely knows me.

My arms start to come up automatically, trying to cover myself, but he catches my wrists gently.

"Don't," he says.

"I'm not exactly..."