Page 118 of Yes No Maybe

“They do, actually. Donations have been pouring in all day.” My brow creeps up my forehead. “But a modern-day Elizabeth Bennett, Jack? Come on.”

“I had to pull on your literary pigtails a little, right?” He leans down for another soft kiss. “Come, have a drink with me.”

With “Enter Sandman” playing softly from the surround-sound speakers, Jack takes the whiskey into the open kitchen, grabbing glasses. I perch on an island barstool. He pours two drinks and hands one over.

“I’m considering more articles… I mean,maybe. I liked writing something different, something that matters. What do you think?” His hand goes through his hair before staring into his glass as if worried about my answer.

“Yes, definitely, yes.”

He lights up. “I’m itching to do a piece on homelessness. I stayed at a shelter for a few nights, researchingBare. It was… humbling.”

“Wow, youreallywill do anything for a book.”

He shrugs off how impressed I am. “Then, maybe something on the foster care system, with your help and Mira’s. I don’t know—I could really get into it.”

“You should. Your writing inspires people. Maybe more will step up. I love the idea.”

His head tilts, staring at me. “It’s not all about me anymore. The more I put that into practice, the happier I am. Thanks to you.”

Warmth flushes my cheeks—partly from the whiskey but mostly from him. “For once, I’m in the spotlight and don’t mind the attention… too much. Work has never been better, and neither has… this.”

Shyly, I break eye contact for another sip, which burns in a good way as it slips down my throat. He meets me at my stool, and I grin as he moves between my legs and slips his hands around me.

“This… makes me fucking ecstatic.”

“This… scares me to death,” I whisper.

“Me, too, but in the best possible way.” He leans closer, nuzzling his head against mine. “Are you freaking out?”

A chuckle escapes me at the smirking way he says it, but I admit, “Yes, a little. You’re not?”

“I think in what-ifs, Rowan—of course, I am.”

“So, in your what-ifs, everything falls apart?”

“No, the opposite, actually. Even the worst of my worst-case scenarios ends in loving you. If my head games can’t break us, nothing will.”

“Then why freak out?” I ask, sliding my hands up his chest.

A slow, playful smile eases over his lips as he stares into my eyes. “It’s too good not to, right?”

“Right,” I breathe out in a sigh.

“Devin’s already given me the best advice on this,” he says with an air of expertise. “Just go with it.”

“Just go with it?”

“Yeah, enjoy it. Trust it. Go with it, even when things get hard.”

“Hmm, I like that.”

Hands tugging my thighs, he nestles into me, and his soft kiss on my lips goes from sweet to seductive in a blink. When my cool hands hit his hot chest, he nibbles my bottom lip, and I swear, every nerve erupts with tiny aches for him.

But the doorbell combines with a pinging alert on Jack’s phone.

With a throaty groan, he edges away from me. “I’m going to fucking murder whoever that is.”

I slip my hand into his pocket, retrieving his phone.

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