At the sound of the wooden stairs wheezing, I hurriedly take a seat on the edge of the bed. He enters the room seconds later, and I watch as he closes the door, listening as it shuts with a muted click, sealing us inside.

“Should I grab some blankets for the floor?” he asks, voice rougher than usual. I can tell by the way he asks that he knows the answer to his question.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor,” I tell him, forcing the warmth to leave my face as I say the words. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Thanks.”

He comes around to the other side of the bed, gently peels the covers back, and takes a seat on the mattress. Summoning any amount of courage and peace of mind I can muster, I do the same, sliding beneath the comforter and making an effort to keep my breathing steady. The tension in the air is palpable, and I rest my head on the pillow at a snail’s pace.

I can see him in my periphery, though I’m too scared to turn to look at him fully, afraid of what I might do. Instead, I roll over onto my side, facing away. I feel him shuffle and adjust his position on the other side of the bed, and all I can hear is my heart beating, the sound so loud and intrusive he must be able to hear it too. I want to say something, to break the thick atmosphere, but I don’t know what.

“Good night,” I decide on needlessly, trying to gauge how he’s feeling.

“Good night,” he returns, giving nothing away.

I stare at the large shadows sprawling across my bedroom wall. All I can think about is him lying next to me, the best kind of distraction and the most dangerous. Gathering up a handful of courage, I roll over to face him slowly. His blue-green eyes are wide open, gazing up at the ceiling, but they flit in my direction after I’ve completely angled myself toward him. I watch the way they study me, taking in my every detail, and I admire the glow of the lights leaving intricate patterns on his mouth, cheekbones, and jawline.

And then before I know what I’m doing, I’m raising my head from my pillow, lifting a finger to trace that jawline and pressing my lips against that mouth.

His response is instantaneous.

Fingers slide into my hair, his lips eager as they meld against mine, and my heart goes into overdrive as he shifts our position, pushing himself up as he kisses me back desperately, sending tremors of shock down my spine. Following his lead, I roll onto my back and he hovers over top of me, my hands finding their home as I pull his face impossibly closer, wanting there to be no space left between us.