My entire body heats at how fast she tells me that and the strength of her conviction. “Still,” I say, “I wanted to look good for you.”

Nadia’s hands move under my breasts. The tips of her fingers caress the design of my tattoo, her touch tickling my ribs. She licks her lips.

“I want you,” she says in an achingly soft voice.

I study Nadia’s face the way I have so many times with her and Darren. I know that they think it’s intense, but I just want to see them. I won’t ever know them as long — or as well — as they’ve known each other, but I want to try. I want to be here with Nadia and Darren — whenever his job stops intruding on our already limited time together. I want to revel in every second I have with them.

That’s what Emma was picking up on earlier; my eagerness to be here, to make the best impression, to make them want me to stick around as much as I want to keep them.

I don’t think I’d realized the full force of my desire to be with them before this moment, and it kind of takes my breath away.

I think Nadia can feel that. She presses her palms gently against my skin. “Breathe,” she says.

“I am?”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Breathe with me.” She opens her mouth and takes a deep breath in, and I do the same.

Oh, she was right; I wasn’t breathing.

We hold our breath for a few beats and then exhale together.

“One more,” she tells me, and I nod, already sucking in more air.

We hold this breath longer. I feel the pads of her fingers press into my ribs and then make circular motions before the backs of her hands move under my breasts and then turn. She cups my breasts, and then her thumbs are back on my nipples. I exhale on a groan, and she smiles at me.

I laugh and reach for her. I wrap my arms around her shoulders, and we press our chests together in a tight hug.

Somehow, I like her arms around my body nearly as much as I enjoyed her fingers on my nipples.

“You’ve done that before,” I say.

I feel her laughing breath on my shoulder. “Darren and the boys are the hyperventilating type. Apparently, you’ll fit in with them. Us.”

“I don’t want you to think you have to take care of me.”

She laughs again. “I take care of them because I want to.” She squeezes me tight. “And apparently, you have a hard time accepting help, so you’ll fit in with me as well.”

It’s my turn to laugh against her shoulder. “This night refuses to go the way that I’d planned.”