Page 33 of Age of Shade

How the hell am I supposed to play it cool? How the hell do I pretend I’m breathing properly for the first time since she last walked out the door? Drawing my hand up her spine, I pull her close, my heart in my throat. “I missed you too. Are you hungry?”

Adina nods, but makes no move to release me. We stand there, holding each other and not saying a word. I’ve never felt this kind of intimacy before, the comfort and familiarity of beingheld by the person you love with no need to speak, and I’ve become addicted. I want it every fucking day.

“Where are you going to live this summer? After you graduate?”

The words are out of my mouth before I can think better of it, and I regret it instantly as Adina’s body tenses against mine.

Drawing back to peer up at me, her expression is guarded. “Why?”

I drag my thumb over her bottom lip, not allowing myself to show how her words have punctured the full, warm feeling that filled me so recently. Two steps forward, one step back. “Just wondering.”

She looks worried. “Asher—”

“Come on, let me feed you.” I draw away but keep my hand pressed to the base of her spine, guiding her into the little kitchen area. It’s narrow, with graying white cabinets trimmed in fake vinyl wood. A lone two-person table is crammed into the corner with my laptop open on top of it beside a pile of tax documents. Adina takes the seat across from it, watching silently as I take the bag of Chinese takeout out of the fridge. “You can shut that.” I indicate the computer with a grimace.

The beginning of the year always brings with it a visit to my accountant and the not-so-pleasant reminder of how close the practice has come to sliding from barely profitable to completely unsustainable. This year was better than most, but even so. Even with Adina in my life now, I feel myself edging closer to complete burnout and have no idea what to do about it. It’s been years since I’ve taken a vacation, but I can’t justify it or afford closing down the entire practice for any length of time.

“Looks like fun,” Adina remarks dryly, tucking the documents back into their folder and closing the screen as I put the first container of food in the microwave.

I sigh, rubbing absently at the stubble on my jaw that has grown in since this morning. “Yes. We really need to hire another hygienist, but I can’t imagine where we’ll find room in the budget.”

Her head tilts slightly. “Have you ever thought about becoming a nonprofit? It would be a long process, but there are a lot of benefits. For one, you could have other practices in the area send their staff over to help out, companies could donate equipment and supplies, and other dentists could offer their time. You’d be able to help so many more patients. The tax stuff too…” She trails off, looking thoughtful. “I’m not an expert or anything, but I took a few classes in nonprofit management last year and I could point you in the right direction.”

“That’s…” I trail off, my throat working as I gaze at her in complete disbelief. “Wow, angel. That’s such an incredible idea. I never considered it.”

“It was just a thought.” She’s adorable, trying to pretend she isn’t too pleased with herself and my praise. The way she catches her bottom lip between her teeth to keep herself from smiling is a dead giveaway, though.

I push off the counter and cross to her. “You’re incredible.” She tilts her chin up, meeting my kiss with such obvious enthusiasm that my body responds instantly. Heat builds inside me, filling me just from the soft sound of her blissful sigh and the feeling of her hands on my shoulders. Behind me, the microwave beeps loudly. I straighten up reluctantly, giving her a look that plainly says what I plan to do to her once we’re done eating.

Judging by her thighs subtly pressing together beneath the table, I’d consider the message received.

“I’m going to speak to my accountant and the practice’s attorney next week to see if it’s even an option,” I tell her, excited now. It really is an excellent solution. Liam could probably be persuaded to throw a fundraiser at The Witt and have his manyfilthy-rich associates donate. I could get anormaljob withnormalhours, and donate my time instead of being chained to the damn building.

Allison is a worry, though. I doubt that a nonprofit manager would approve of me paying a cleaner in cash and letting her sleep on the couch in my office. Then again, she, like my girlfriend, will be graduating from college soon. The process of transitioning to a nonprofit could take years, and I’m positive she’ll have moved on by then. It’s the natural order of things, even if I’ll be sorry to lose her. I want her to do better, to overcome whatever put her on that street three years ago.

Tonight, I’m not worrying about any of it, though. The relaxed, joyful feeling that Adina so often brings out in me is beginning to expand inside me, erasing the tension of the day. Things might not be perfect and we may still have a way to go, butI’m happydamn it. The woman of my dreams is sitting at my kitchen table right now, weighed down by her own worries. Tonight, we’re going to set all that shit aside.

I want to play.

“I was thinking,” I muse, careful to avoid looking at her directly as I busy myself with another take-out container. “We haven’t been on a proper date yet.”

A startled laugh sounds from behind me. “This is a date!”

The three-hour-old takeout sitting in front of me says otherwise. “Thisis me taking care of my girlfriend after she had a long day.” I lean my hip against the counter and cross my arms. “I’m talking aboutromance, Adina Collier. Haven’t you watchedBridgerton?”

“No, but I’m guessing you have.” She’s trying not to laugh, though, and I feel about ten feet tall. Making this woman smile has rapidly become the best part of my days. Admittedly, though, making her come on my face is a close second.

It’s a monumental effort to stop my face from splitting in a huge grin. “So youdon’twant to go on a date then? Just to be clear.”

My words are met with an exasperated huff from the beautiful creature before me. “I didn’t say that.”

With a thoughtful hum, I turn to take the last container out of the microwave. Adina is busying herself by gathering up the electronics and paperwork when I come up behind her with the plates, taking care to brush my chest against her back.

In the narrow kitchen, it would be easy enough to pass such a thing off as a side effect of the limited space, but we both know better.

Again and again as we set the table in companionable silence, I take care to touch her whenever possible. It’s beyond satisfying to listen to the little hitch in her breathing as I rest my hand on the small of her waist for a few seconds, or see a pale flush beginning to crawl up her neck when I “accidentally” press her hips into the table with mine.

Keeping myself from fucking her has been almost as difficult as keeping my feelings in check. When she comes here at night, I’m somewhat prepared for it. It’s the mornings that have truly tempted me to within an inch of my sanity. Having her in my bed, surrounded by the warm scent of honey and wildflowers, seeing her tousled hair and bare face while feeling her perfect, perky ass press against my cock… Half asleep, the urge to drive my length inside her wet heat is instinctual. There’s no way to prepare for it, no way to ward it off, and every time it brings me closer to a ledge I don’t dare acknowledge.