Some beautiful person puts on Hozier. My eyes slip shut, and I turn in Micah’s arms to face him in one quick movement. It’s like my body is acting without my brain. Pure feeling. I just want to feel this. Feel him. I press forward, and he hits the wall behind him with a quiet gasp. He leans down the moment I lift up, and soon our lips are touching. Soon every part of us is touching. His hands are fire on my skin and through my dress. His body is unyielding underneath mine, and every soft part of me aches for more contact. In an instant, he’s spun us, and my back is against the wall. He’s kissing me, and I’m devouring him. My knees slide apart, and in no time he’s there, pressed against me. My hips rock forward, and he groans against my mouth, pulling back a little, his forehead resting on mine as he catches his breath.

“Meg.” He swallows, his eyes shutting as if in pain.

“I know. I know. Too fast.”

“Too something,” he mutters. His tongue slides along his lower lip, and my eyes chase it down.

“Just a little more,” I say and press in, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck and tugging him down to my mouth once more.

“If you insist.”

I haven’t drank since before our kiss, and by the time we’re dropping Duke off at his house and watching him gracelessly stumble up his front porch, I’m feeling back to myself.

Mostly. The alcohol has faded from my system, but I still feel a little drunk on Micah. His fingers wrap over mine, and he holds my hand against his thigh as he drives me back to James’s. He pulls into the drive and parks next to James’s truck. It’s nearly midnight, and all the lights are off except the porch light.

“Want to come in?”

Micah stares past the steering wheel, considering. “I don’t know if James will like being woken up.”

“I have my own entrance,” I remind him.

He takes a deep breath and seems so conflicted that I start to backtrack. “It’s okay. I know it’s late—”

“It’s not that,” he interrupts quickly. “It should be that, but it’s not.”

“Oh.”

The corner of his mouth quirks. “Yeah, okay. I’ll come in.”

My heart tap-dances in my chest. “Yeah?”

He slips the keys out of the ignition. “Yeah.”

We’re careful not to slam the car doors. Or to rush around the house to my entrance. Almost like we are working really hard not to appear overeager or guilty or whatever. Or at least I am. I unlock my door, swinging it open, and flip on the light. Right into my bedroom. Like, bam! Here we are. Where my bed is. Right there.