“Not with you.” His eyes were so serious that my nervous laugh died in my throat. Instead, all I could do was press another kiss to his mouth and hope he understood how much his words meant to me. How much he meant. And maybe he got the message because he kissed me back with an urgency that hadn’t been there before. Eventually we tumbled backward. Between the sheer number of pillows and the narrow width of the bed, there wasn’t a ton of room, and he ended up half on top of me.

“This okay?”

“Uh-huh.” In fact, if it got any more okay, I might seriously expire of happiness, but I couldn’t find all those words and simply kissed him instead. He used his tongue again, which let me do my new favorite thing on earth and mimic him. Every time his tongue brushed mine, my body surged like I’d scored on a penalty kick, crowd roaring, adrenaline spiking.

I’d waited for this. For him. Even if I hadn’t quite known why, I’d waited. I’d denied myself this because deep down I didn’t think I deserved it, but when Jasper kissed me like this, I felt…worthy. Like this whole trying-to-be-a-better-person thing mattered and like it might truly be possible. Because anything that felt this good had to mean that I was doing something right.

He kissed my jaw and my ears and my neck, and I did the same for him until we were both breathless and moving together, him pressed tightly against me now.

“I want to touch you.” He rested his hand on my chest, right over my pounding heart. “Can I touch you?”

“Uh-huh. Whatever you want.” And I meant it. I had no agenda of my own other than to be what he wanted, what he needed.

However, this was Jasper, and he didn’t take, even though I offered. His generous nature probably had no clue about how to be selfish. Instead, he gave. More kisses, now accompanied by touches which were at first gentle and barely there grazes of his fingertips and then bolder. Pausing to meet my gaze, he waited for me to nod before snaking a hand under my sweatshirt and past my T-shirt to find bare skin.

I groaned. Or maybe he did. I was losing track.

“I want to do it too,” I whispered.

“Oh, yeah.” He sat up enough to pull his hoodie off, and I took the hint and did the same. Game on. My body hummed, that rush of adrenaline back a thousandfold when our bare torsos connected. We kissed and touched and explored, and not even the roar of a packed stadium could compete with how good he made me feel. His little groans and gasps were the best reward ever, making me feel both deeply connected, rooted to this place and time, and weirdly restless.