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I reluctantly pulled my lips away. “You’re out!” I squealed, planting another kiss on his cheek.
Drake chuckled. “I’m out.”
He sat me back on the ground, holding onto my hips until he was sure I had my balance. When he smiled, butterflies went on a rampage in my chest, and my eyes welled with tears. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I wanted to surprise you.” Drake cupped my cheek and kissed me. When his tongue ran along my bottom lip, I parted them, whimpering when I tasted him. I kissed him until the room started to spin around me and the world disappeared.
“I could’ve hurt you,” I said breathlessly.
He clicked his tongue. “Oh, I know. I just almost got killed by a spatula.” I swatted his chest, and he laughed. The sound made the house feel like home again. My cheeks warmed with my embarrassment, and I knew by the smirk on his face I was blushing. Drake shook his head. “Come here.”
He took my hand and led me to the couch, pulling me into his lap when he sat. I tucked my legs up, leaning against his chest and inhaling the sandalwood and vanilla I had been craving since the last time he was here.
“So, they found what they needed then?” I asked hesitantly, tracing small circles on Drake’s chest through his shirt.
He nodded. “Ronan got a video of him attacking you.” Drake tightened his hold on my waist. “Paired with your statement, and some strong negotiation on the Morettis’ end, it was enough to drop the charges. I’ve learned not to ask too many questions.”
We sat in silence like the words were stuck to our throats, but his blue eyes were loud. They held a week’s worth of anxiety and anger, with a hint of concern and something I couldn’t quite place. He closed his eyes and swallowed, and I followed the lump in his throat.
“I hate what happened to you,” he said quietly. He put his hand on my face, pulling me to him for a tender kiss. I wasn’t sure if it was his hand shaking or if every part of my body was vibrating being in his presence again.
I placed my hand over his. “I’m okay,” I reassured him. I kissed him again, and I didn’t think I could ever get enough of the subtly sweet taste of his lips.
“He’s gone forever.” His voice was stern, and I gasped.
“Dallas? Did they…?”
Drake shook his head. “They didn’t kill him. If it had been up to me, they would have.” He gritted his teeth, and the muscles in his jaw flexed with his frustration.
“Not if it would mean you’d go to jail for longer. A week was long enough.” I clung to him like he could be ripped from my grasp at any moment. Could he feel my heart beating through my chest?
He hooked his finger under my chin, a soft smile pulling at one side of his mouth. “I’m not ever going back to jail or leaving you again. I promise.” Drake just held my face there and stared at me, and until I forgot to breathe, I stared back at him. “Thank you for being brave. For filing the report. For being there for me.” He brushed his thumb over my cheek between each item on the list.
“I couldn’t stand the idea of you being in there,” I said, unable to fight the tears that dripped from my eyelashes.
Drake kissed me, trapping one of the tears between our lips. “I know.”
I looked down, pressing my cheek against his hand. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”
“I’d do anything for you.” He looked serious when he guided my gaze back to his.
I looked between his stare, his lips, and the tray of chicken nuggets sitting on the counter, debating if I was hungry enough to forgo devouring the man in front of me first. When I pulled him closer, running my tongue along his bottom lip and covering his mouth with mine, I hummed. He cupped my cheek, breaking the kiss. I gaped at him with my mouth open and my eyes still closed, missing the touch of his lips.
“Have you eaten?” he asked. Was he really thinking about food right now?
I shook my head. “I’m not hungry.” He glanced at the tray of chicken nuggets, lifting his brow like he didn’t believe me. I put my hands on either side of his face, demanding his attention. “All I want is you.”
When I opened my mouth to kiss him again, my stomach growled, betraying me. Drake planted a quick peck on my lips before he let go and turned away from me. “You need to eat.”
“Do I have to?” I whined, wishing my tone was enough to change his mind. My stomach grumbled again, and I winced. Traitor.
He walked into the kitchen and stared at the tray of now cold nuggets. “This was your dinner? How old are you, twenty-two?” His chuckle was laced with obvious judgment, as if he didn’t already know they were my favorite.
I scoffed. “Twenty-five!”
Drake tilted his head, dumping the tray into the trash can. “I’m making you a real dinner,” he said, opening the fridge and pulling out various ingredients that he could make something out of. When he had an onion and a couple peppers in his hand, he turned around. “Fajitas.”
I stood behind him while he started to chop peppers, transfixed by the way his muscles rippled under his shirt with each slice. I fidgeted, desperate to feel him moving, and I stepped away from the counter I was leaning against.
