“You’ve always been a good listener,” I said. My thoughts flashed way back to when we first met physically—instead of online. I’d spotted him on his laptop, told him he needed more stickers as a joke, and our friendly rivalry had started. But even then, he’d always been there. Listening, helping, never hesitating when I sent him a chat box and a question. “DC,” I finally said.

“What can I say?” He smirked. “I love…” His eyes widened before he forced out a laugh. “Love to hear your voice.”

The air in my lungs tightened, my heart picking up its earlier speed.

“Says the boy who spent the first two years of high school only speaking to me through chat boxes,” I teased, my breath catching.

“Hey,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s our thing.”

I reached up and brushed my lips over his. “I like our things.”

He walked us until my back was against my car, kissing me long and hard and sweet. I tensed for a breath, waiting for the cold to seep into my bones from being pinned against the car. From being trapped. Locked in his embrace and his kiss.

But again, it didn’t come.

There was only Dean and how safe I felt in his arms. How much power I felt thrumming through my veins, knowing I was in control. Knowing he’d stop if I so much as blinked the wrong way.

But I didn’t want him to stop.

The taste of him—Red Bull and spearmint—swirled and churned and wound me up so much it was almost enough to erase every thought in my head.

Almost.

“Mmm,” I mumbled against his lips, loving the way his body was flush with mine. “I told Hannah I’d call Jake for her.”

He growled, his eyes on fire as he gazed at me. “Never,” he said, a laugh in his tone, “say another dude’s name when my mouth is on yours.”

A warm shiver rippled down my spine. “Or what?” I challenged.

He kissed me again, hungrier, faster, until my entire body trembled under his. Too quickly, he ended it, stepping so far away from me, the cold air raised chills on my skin.

The grin on his lips was more enticing than Loki’s when he was in the middle of chaos.

“Night, Pixie,” he said, walking around his car and sinking behind the wheel.

I smirked, shaking my head.

The boy was good.

Great.

And he was all mine.

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