“Which one is it?” I ask. She turns around to point to the tall white building with large balconies and a high-end style architecture.

“That one on the left. Third floor. If they look out their window, they might actually be able to see us.”

“Well, then you should give them something to look at,” I joke, and she turns to me with a lustful expression. She stands and turns to straddle my seat.

This girl is constantly challenging my preconceived notions about her. She is daring, wild, and stubborn. By the look in her eye, I can see the rebellion. And I know that I play that part for her. The wild rebellion in her normally squeaky clean life.

I am a check mark on her bucket list.

As her soft thighs squeeze my hips, I thank my lucky stars that she’s checking the box on that list with me.

“Is this better?” she asks, looping her arms around my neck.

“I think so.” She leans in and kisses me, a soft and wet kiss that turns me on as much as it gives me those warm and terrifying thoughts.

Thoughts like wanting to kiss her forever.

Thoughts that belong to other guys, the kind of guys who get down on one knee, build picket fences, and say those forbidden three words.

I growl against her kiss and pull her hips closer to my body. The cruel voice in the back of my head is a subtle reminder that we are here to be physical, have a little fling, and that is all.

“Get some, Logan,” someone bellows from across the yard. I recognize the voice as Ezra’s, another one of the guys who used to run in Murph and Theo’s gang. Instead of returning with a roast, I just flip him my middle finger and let Sierra trail her kiss from my mouth to my neck.

“Leave them alone,” Murph defends us. “They’re young and in love.” He’s drunk already. I have my suspicions that he may have started a little early, not that you could tell with his work. Some people work a little better on the sauce. How that works, I have no idea.

But his sloppy talk has me tense and pulling away from Sierra’s kiss. She giggles against my neck at Murph’s words. I don’t know if she’s embarrassed or uncomfortable, but I don’t want her feeling out of her element, although she totally is.

“Let’s get out of here,” I whisper.

“I like hanging out with your friends,” she responds, which just makes me tense even more. Hanging out with friends is relationship zone stuff. “These aren’t my friends,” I say loud enough for them to hear.

“They’re better than my friends,” she echoes, and they all respond with encouragement.

“That is true,” I say.

“I like her,” Murph says as he leans forward to clink his bottle with hers. After the two cheer each other, she gets up from my lap and asks for the bathroom.