She wanted him to kiss her before the light changed, but she also wanted him to take his time, and he did. His free hand wrapped around the column of her neck, and she let him pull her mouth to his. Before their lips touched, he took in a deep breath through his mouth, tasting the humid air between their lips. Alejandro shoved his tongue into her mouth as soon as their lips crashed together, and they both moaned.

Deja whimpered, tasting the promise of that kiss, even though it was over all too soon.

When he pulled back from Deja’s mouth, he was smiling again. “I more than like you,” he said, and then he turned forward to ease his foot off the brake as the light turned green.

If Alejandro had known that Deja was going to come over to his apartment, he would have hired a cleaning service or spent the afternoon straightening his apartment at least. He wished he could have left her on his front doorstep while he did so, but that only happened in movies, otherwise it was rude as hell. Thankfully, he wasn’t a slob. He said a silent prayer of thanks that his mother sent him off to college with sage advice. “What woman wants to date a man who can’t put his dirty boxers in the laundry basket, mijo?”

No woman. That was the answer she’d drilled into his head, and he’d learned by watching his college roommates’ girlfriends scrunch their noses at their messy apartment, so he always kept his apartment presentable. Sometimes in the middle of a terrible semester, it got a bit chaotic, but this semester wasn’t terrible, just regularly busy.

He held his breath as he opened his front door. He ushered Deja inside, exhaling nervously as he entered his apartment behind her, waiting for her to turn to him with a scrunched nose or judging eyes. She didn’t.

Deja slipped out of her heels and walked slowly but curiously into his living room.

Alejandro toed off his shoes — something he never did — and followed behind her. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got water, wine, beer. I can make you coffee if you want,” he offered.

Deja turned toward him. She was holding her hands against her stomach, something he’d noticed she did when she was nervous. “Water’s fine,” she said in a soft voice.

He nodded and turned to the kitchen. He poured them each a glass of water and then closed his eyes, taking a couple of deep breaths to calm his nerves and his galloping heart. When he walked back into the living room, Deja was gone. Alejandro frowned. “Deja?”

“In your bedroom,” she called back. His grip on each glass tightened, and his eyes widened.