Page 80 of Make Me Yours
There’s a round of hugs and goodbyes, easy laughter, and promises to get together again soon. Then Bridger slings an arm around Holland’s waist, and the two disappear into the night, leaving behind the echo of a perfect evening.
Lilah moves to the railing and gazes out over the skyline, her hands resting lightly on the iron bar. The breeze toys with the hem of her dress as her long blonde hair slips over her shoulders.
She looks so fucking gorgeous it hurts. An ache coils low in my gut. All I want to do is slide my arms around her from behind and press my lips to the gentle curve of her neck, finally confessing everything I’ve kept buried for years.
I keep telling myself she needs time.
That I have to be patient.
But I don’t know how much longer I can do that.
Because I’m scared my cousin’s right. That if I don’t step up soon, someone else will. Some other guy will see the amazing qualities I do, and he’ll say what I haven’t, and take her before I ever get the chance.
I can’t let that happen.
Not again.
I’m being pulled in two directions.
Because I know the truth deep in my bones. Once I have her, I’ll never let go. There’s no pulling back. No pretending we’re just friends.
I want Lilah Monroe.
Not just for tonight.
Not just for tomorrow.
But for every damn day after.
27
LILAH
The hushed sounds of the rooftop fade behind me as I step toward the railing, drawn to the glow of city lights dancing across the water. Lake Michigan stretches out before me like a black mirror. The cool wind kisses my skin, wafting over my arms and sneaking down the open back of my dress, making me shiver.
I don’t hear his footsteps.
It’s more that I feel him.
That unmistakable presence that’s steady, solid, all heat and quiet power coming up behind me. My body reacts before he even lays a hand on me.
When his arms wrap around my waist, I let myself melt into his embrace.
Intohim.
He’s so much bigger than me. All hard lines and muscle. He’s a fortress at my back, a shield that blocks out the world.
Devon never felt like this. He was leaner, sharper in his movements. Always careful. Controlled. Measured.
But Steele?
Steele doesn’taskfor space.
He simplytakesit.
Every gesture, every touch, every unspoken word saysmine.
And I love it.
