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At those words I feel something in me unlock.

We’re doing this, and we’re doing it now.

“I’m glad you realised that,” I murmur, taking a step forward. Her gaze is still fixed on mine, and I slowly, and very deliberately, take the basil she’s holding from her hand and put it on the counter. “Because I really like you, Claire.”

I take another step, gaze locked on hers. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

I’m so close that I can see the darker flecks of blue in her eyes, the rise and fall of her chest.

Then she grabs my shirt and leans forward. And all I can think is finally.

I tangle my hands in her hair and crowd her towards the counter. The kisses start off light and teasing before she parts her lips for more and it deepens. My hand slides along the curve of her throat, and she lets out a moan.

“I love that sound,” I whisper, breaking away before trailing kisses down her neck. “I only heard it once, but it was enough to get stuck in my head for weeks.”

Claire doesn’t seem to have the words to reply, instead she pants as my lips move across her skin. Kissing Claire again is better than I could have imagined. And I’ve imagined it a lot. Potentially too much.

My nose nudges the neckline of her shirt, and I leave a string of kisses along her collarbone, inhaling the scent of her skin. Her hands grip my back, nails digging in through the material.

“Take it off,” she whispers to me as I skim my lips down the line of her shirt again.

I smile into her neck and nip the skin lightly.

She moans again. “Tom, please.”

Pulling back, I check for any hesitation, but there isn’t any. So slowly I untuck her shirt and start to undo the buttons, watching her face with each one. Eventually it slips from her shoulders and pools behind her on the counter.

She shivers under my gaze and I take in the incredible view in front of me. Her chest is heaving and her skin flushed. I trace a finger along the edge of her light blue bra before leaning in to kiss her again.

“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur. But that’s not what I really mean, I’m sure people have told her she’s beautiful before.

“But it’s more than that, Claire,” I tell her, laying another kiss by her ear. “It’s everything else too.” I swallow, not quite sure how much of myself to give away. I know I’m all in. I know she’s come here to me. But my brain is still catching up.

“Really?” she asks, eyes filled with something I can’t quite place.

“Really.” I’m about to list all the reasons when she interrupts me by pulling me in again, lips colliding. Suddenly our hands are frantic and all I can think about is how much I want her skin on mine.

She tugs at my shirt and I break our kiss to lift it over my head, dropping it on the floor behind me. The moment she runs her hands down my bare chest I let out a hiss. She laughs softly, and the sound is enough to nearly undo me.

“Promise me you won’t run away this time?” I ask. Because even after what she said, that’s still what I’m afraid of. One kiss haunted me for months and this is already going further. It would ruin me for years.

“I promise,” she tells me, eyes boring into mine. And this time I believe her.

Chapter 29

Claire

My words, my promise, lingers between us. For a moment I almost reflexively brace myself, waiting for the evening to curdle, because that’s what usually happens when you bare your soul to someone. I wait for him to question me further, to convince himself that I’m not worth another chance. But Tom doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he’s still looking at me in a way that makes me think that kiss affected him just as much as it affected me.

Then Tom takes a step back and kneels, reaching for my ankle, and without breaking eye contact he slowly undoes the zip on each of my boots. My pulse starts to race, faster and faster.

His touch is feather-light, making me shiver as he slides my shoes off my feet reverently before running his hands up my calves. Then moves his hands to the zip at the side of my skirt and slowly undoes it. Tom eases the material down my legs, and I slowly step out, first one foot and then the other, leaving me in just my underwear. If I had known this might happen I might’ve worn something nicer, or at least something matching, rather than a light blue cotton bra and a pair of basic black pants. But I thought I was going for dinner with my mum, not turning up at Tom’s door and asking for a second chance.

Tom stands and I let out a sound of surprise as he lifts me onto the counter. I settle back on one arm and take in the sight of a shirtless Tom standing in front of me, caged by my legs. I knew he’d look good, but I didn’t realise he’d look this good. He’s lean from all his running, skinnier than most of the other guys I’ve dated, but his muscles are defined. I reach out to touch him, and now he’s the one who shivers as I run my hands down his front again, fingers lingering at the waistband of his jeans.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and I give a dazed nod.

His lips find mine again as his hands tease around the edge of my bra before stroking down my sides. I hook my legs around his waist to try and pull him closer. I want more contact, more skin, more everything.