Page 25 of The Spark

And then—the chime of the front door.

We jerked apart.

Nia walked back in, humming casually, but her smirk said everything.

I stepped away, heart still pounding, my lips tingling.

We had crossed that line and there was no coming back from it.

10

The drive back was thick with silence.

Amaya sat beside me, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes locked on the passenger window like she was searching for an exit that didn’t exist.

But I felt her. Felt her body still pulsing beside me. Felt her breath catch every time we hit a red light.

Felt the echo of her mouth on mine—warm, sweet, parted in a way that made me think about places we’d already been and the ones we hadn’t reached yet.

Even with that space between us, she was everywhere. That kiss had cracked something open. Not just tonight.

Butthen.

Back when she was in my hoodie, legs trembling, voice whisperingplease.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter.

That moment was burned into me. Just like today would be. The way her body melted into mine. The way she didn’t pull back until the world interrupted us.

She hadn’t said a word since we left Vibrations, but I could feel the storm rolling through her. The shift was undeniable. The line we’d crossed wasn't just blurred—it was gone. And now we were both pretending we didn’t notice.

But I noticed everything.

My tongue darted out to wet my lips, catching the faintest trace of her gloss. Vanilla. Warm. Slightly sweet. Familiar.

My jaw clenched as the hunger twisted in my gut. The kiss hadn’t been long enough to fully taste her, hadn’t been deep enough to answer the need she stirred every time she looked at me like she wasn’t sure what she wanted—or if she was ready to want me out loud.

But it had been enough to ruin the space between us.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the way she felt—pressed against me, her breath ragged, her thighs tense like she was remembering just how much of her I already knew.

Her scent still clung to my hoodie. Her warmth too. Like memory wrapped in cotton. Like unfinished business that had never cooled.

“You good?” I asked, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.

She inhaled sharply, like I’d touched something with just the sound of my voice.

Then finally, she answered. “Yeah. Fine.”

But she wasn’t and I knew that. Because neither of us were.

I didn’t press. I just smirked to myself, eyes still on the road. She was rattled. Trying to cover it with calm, but I knew her better than that. Her silence wasn’t peace—it was protection. And I’d learned over the years that when Amaya got quiet, it meant something loud was happening inside her.

We pulled up in front of her apartment building, the weight of everything between us heavy as hell. She reached for the door too fast, like she couldn’t get out of the car quick enough.

I caught her wrist before she could.

"A."

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