I hear her sharp inhale of breath as our lips touch before she pulls back quickly, her eyes wide.

Fuck, how many times have I wanted to kiss her?

How many times have I stopped myself from just doing it because I knew that if that door was opened, there would be no going back?

Because one more taste wouldn’t be enough.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes like she’s the one at fault, like she’s the one who kissed me. “I didn’t mean….” She shakes her head, a pink flush spreading up her neck to her cheeks as her eyes drop to my mouth before shooting back up to mine. “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorr⁠—”

Capturing her face in my hands, I pull her back toward me and cover her mouth with my own before she can apologize again.

It takes only one second for her to melt against me and two for my entire world to flip upside down.

Sliding my fingers deep into her hair, I feel her lips part, and the soft puff of air from her whimper touches my tongue as her hands skim up my chest. Just like the first time I had her taste to savor, I lose all sense of reality, and my entire existence becomes hyperfocused on her, the sounds she makes, and the way her soft body feels pressed against mine.

I’d forgotten how soft her lips are, what her hair felt like between my fingers, the way she gives in so easily to letting me lead. Skimming one hand down her back, I pull her tighter against me and deepen the kiss as she pushes closer, and she slides her hand around the back of my neck like she’s afraid I’ll pull away.

I wouldn’t, even if I could.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to see this,” I hear whispered, and hearing it too, Franny goes rigid in my arms.

Reluctantly, I rip my mouth from hers and turn to my open apartment door, finding Winter with her hands wrapped around Kingston’s forehead in a failed attempt to cover his eyes.

Fuck.

I tuck Franny’s face against my chest as she whimpers again, this time in distress.

“You two know you’re supposed to knock.” It’s difficult to keep the frustration out of my voice, but I try.

“We did,” Winter says, then adds, “We used the key when you didn’t answer, because we thought you weren’t home.”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“Dad needs to borrow some butter for cookies,” she tells me, while Kingston continues to try to get away from her.

“It’s in the fridge,” I tell them, and they rush toward the kitchen, with PJ—who is excited to see the two of them—hot on their heels.

I look down at Franny when I feel her tilt her head back to look up at me.