Noah
Fuck, I felt my chest rise and fall as I came inside her. She was mine now. My sunshine. I pulled out of her slowly putting her back down on her feet. She fixed her dress and panties as I fixed my belt. God she was fucking beautiful.
The night should’ve been over. After everything we said. Everything we did. But as we stood in the stillness of the alley, her lips swollen from my kiss, her breath still uneven, dress clinging to her like a second skin—I knew I wasn’t done.
Not with her.
Not with us.
“Come to dinner,” I said, my voice lower than I meant it to be, still thick with the aftershocks of what just happened between us. “Tomorrow night. At my parents’ place.”
Her brow lifted.
“Dinner?”
I nodded, trying to sound casual even as my pulse thundered.
“Yeah. Real plates. Warm food. My mom’s probably already planning a five-course ambush.”
Elizabeth blinked, lips parting, the war behind her eyes obvious.
She didn’t do
“meet the family.”
She didn’t do “safe.”
Hell, she didn’t even do second dates.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she murmured, stepping back slightly. “Your parents are normal. I’m… not.”
I stepped in, slow, deliberate pressing my hand to the small of her back and pulling her gently to me.
“You’re exactly what they need,” I whispered. “Exactly what I need.”
And then I kissed her again.
Not like earlier—this wasn’t wild or reckless.
This was slow, deep, a promise spelled out with every pass of my mouth over hers.
She melted into me, her fingers curling into my shirt, and I swore I felt the last of her resistance crack.
When I pulled back, our foreheads touching, I asked again.
“Come to dinner with me.”
She hesitated. Her lips trembled.
And then, softly—almost like it hurt—
“Okay.”
My heart flipped. I didn’t show it. Not all of it.
But damn if I didn’t want to pick her up right there and tell my mom to set an extra place tonight.
Instead, I took her hand. I walked her to my bike so I could take her home.
When we got to my bike, I went to let her hand go but she didn’t let go.
I smiled and kissed her forehead and put the helmet on her.
We rode back to her home, and I felt her tightening her grip on me the entire ride back.
When we reached her door, she turned to me with that look, the one that made it hard to breathe. That mix of strength and vulnerability, danger and desire. I go to kiss her again, but she stops me. Putting her hand on my lips.
“Don’t kiss me again,” she said softly, teasing. “I might not let you leave.”
I smiled.
“It wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
Then I leaned in anyway and kissed her goodnight—slow, lingering, my hand cradling the side of her neck like she might vanish if I didn’t hold her just right.
When she stepped inside, she looked back at me one last time. I caught the glint in her eye—something like hope. Or fear. Maybe both. And then she was gone.
I stood there for a moment, staring at her closed door.
Smiling.
But the second the grin touched my lips, the guilt followed.
The bet.
The goddamn bet.
Liam. Adonis. Me.
Get Liz to fall. That was the deal.
Back then, it was a joke. A challenge. A way to make things interesting.
Now?
Now she wasn’t a mission.
She was everything.
And if I didn’t tell her soon, I was going to lose the one thing I hadn’t known I needed—
Until it was almost too late.