I could have spent the rest of the night like that, cuddling naked on top of a toilet. But eventually, she shivered, and people started knocking on the door again. With a sigh, I helped her remove herself from me. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face as we got dressed. I would never be able to forget this night. It was permanently stuck in my brain. And I really hoped it would be stuck in Kiera’s too. I want her to always be that way with me. I want her to own me every night. Every day. Every second.

When I finally opened the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway, I felt the weight of dozens of eyes on me. The unnatural silence in the house was oppressive, but it only lasted for a second, because the moment we started walking down the hallway, people started whistling and clapping. Fuck. This party was going to be over if Kiera figured out why they were cheering. But she seemed oblivious to the people smacking me on the back, to the jealousy in the guy’s eyes as they nodded in approval, to the suggestive stares I was getting from women who seemed to think I’d just set up some sort of ride and they wanted a turn. No, Kiera seemed peacefully oblivious to all of it. Thank God.

But then, once we reached our dancing spot in the middle of the living room, Griffin rushed up to Kiera. If anyone could force the realization into Kiera’s head, it would definitely be Griffin. She’d be mortified if she figured it out, and probably pretty upset. I’d spend the rest of the night consoling her, and I didn’t want her to feel bad about what we just did. Because having her let go like that…want me like that…take me like that…damn, that was going to stay with me for the rest of my life. I didn’t regret a fucking thing, and I didn’t want her to either.

Griffin handed Kiera a beer; his face was so impressed and delighted, you would have thought he’d been in the room with us. “Kiera, I think I love you,” he gushed. Kiera made a face at him, but she grabbed his offered beer and took a sip.

Griffin was giddy as he smacked me on the chest. “You are the luckiest fucking son of a bitch.” He handed me the beer in his other hand, and his joy flipped to a frown. “I mean, I hated you before, but now, I really can’t stand you.”