Page 78 of Love at Teamsgiving
Picking up on our little game from before, I mouth,I want you.
His lips quirk.I want you too.
“What are you going to do about it?” I ask.
He chuckles like he’s biding his time and has to focus on the stakeout.
We’re both quiet for several long minutes, the tension building between us when I finally ask, “What are you guys doing for the bachelor party?”
“Rafting, cigar bar, grill. What are you doing for Erica’s bachelorette?”
“Movie, snacks, spa stuff.”
“Sounds girly.”
“Sounds purr-fect,” I say, adding ameow.
“So you’ll watch my cat?”
“Only if you kiss me,” I answer.
Mikey is fast on the ice, but he moves so swiftly, I don’t even realize he’s pulled me into his lap in the driver’s seat until my butt hits the horn as our mouths collide.
Smiling widely, we both start laughing as I adjust my position to avoid waking up the neighborhood and ruining our stakeout.
But it turns into a make-out as we move together, finding a familiar pace of give and take.
My fingers twine through his thick hair and his hands cradle my jaw. Our breathing turns equally erratic. My heart flutters and flaps against my ribs. His pulse climbs as the kiss deepens.
Mikey pulls back slightly and captures my gaze in his. He traces his thumb along my cheek—the one with the scar.
I drop a kiss onto his hand, feeling fully at home with this man.
“You. Are. So Beautiful,” he says, voice rough.
“Even when I was pushing you away?”
He shakes his head, and even though there’s hardly an inch between us, he says, “Come here,” and tugs me closer, ourmouths meeting once more in a kiss that tells me everything I need to know about how we’re meant to be together.
The world outside fades to a blur of streetlights and shadows as we create our own universe in the front seat of his car. His hands slide down to my waist, steady and sure, anchoring me to him as if he’s afraid I might disappear. I understand the feeling—after months of pushing him away, of building walls, he somehow always found a way to scale. I’m still half-convinced this is a dream.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper against his lips, the words I’ve been holding back for so long finally breaking free.
His answer is a kiss on my left cheek.
“For turning my back on us.”
This time, he kisses the right side.
Voice trembling with vulnerability, I add, “I won’t doubt us or let anything, not even Momzilla or Queen Kong, come between us. Not even something the size of a meatball will interfere with our relationship.”
He nuzzles me with his nose, our breath mingling in the small space between us. “Even if you didn’t say that, you know that I’d spend the rest of my life seeking you.”
My heart stutters in my chest, hope unfurling like a flower reaching for sunlight.
“You don’t have to …” But because I can’t resist, I add, “Your cat better be worth it.”
I press my lips to his and feel his smile.
