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Then she waited, but to her surprise, Saff didn’t move back.
“Do not,” Maddie whispered, “pretend like I was the only one who risked my life that night.” She took another step forward, her body pressing into Saff. “So, was that you just trying to survive?
Silence fell between them. The only sound was Saff’s labored breathing.
“Or what about kissing me?” Maddie asked, her voice lowering, dripping with the confidence of knowing she’d backed her into a corner. “Was that for your own survival?”
She could’ve sworn Saff’s breathing stopped altogether then.
Any other time, she never would’ve pushed her that far. She knew Saff well enough to know that she could take all the teasing she could dish out, but that she couldn’t be forced to confront her own feelings—whatever they were.
But now she had nothing to lose.
Saff was going to leave anyway, regardless of what she said or did. And there was no way in hell she’d let her stay in denial when she did.
Maddie’s hand inched forward until it found the bottom of Saff’s shirt.
“No,” she continued. “You did it for the same reason I did.”
Maddie’s fingertips lowered, then curled over the top hem of Saff’s pants, just barely grazing her warm skin.
“And if you deny that,“ Maddie whispered, leaning in closer, “you’re a fucking liar.”
Saff’s hand grabbed onto hers in one quick movement as she surged forward, forcing her back until she hit against the countertop.
Saff’s body pressed hard against hers, her hand gripping her wrist. And yet somehow, the small satisfied smile stayed on her lips.
She was glad. She wanted Saff to see it. She wanted it to drive her absolutely mad.
“Don’t push me,” Saff growled dangerously.
And it only made her smile grow, spreading across her lips.
Saff might’ve lied about everything before, but what happened while they were together wasn’t a lie. What happened between them wasn’t a lie, no matter how much Saff wanted to believe that it was.
“You might’ve lied to me about your past,” Maddie hissed, “but you’re also lying to yourself about us.”
She released a small breath before she slowly uncurled her fingers, letting the hoodie drop from her hand.
Cold air rushed over her bare chest as the two ripped halves of the shirt opened, sweeping to the sides.
She leaned forward, pressing against Saff, as her now free hand trailed up against Saff’s chest.
It met her neck and then continued to her jaw.
Then she stopped, waiting for Saff to move—to do anything at all.
And when she didn’t, she continued.
Her fingers barely grazed the skin until they hit her lips. Then she leaned the rest of the way forward until her mouth met where her thumb was gently brushing over Saff’s bottom lip.
She paused for a split second, waiting for her reaction.
But there was none.
So she moved the last inch forward, replacing her thumb with her teeth.
Then she bit down—hard—giving it a tug that was more a last release of anger than a tease.
