I wish I could wave away his money problems and whatever misplaced guilt he has for not having it to spend on me. Doesn’t he know I don’t need it? I’ve had more than I’ve needed my whole life and never been happier than I am just hanging out with Nathan. “Money doesn’t buy everything, Nathan Payne. I’d rather walk around and do nothing with you than have all the stuff you can buy on this pier.”

“You mean that?” He threads his hand through my hair and holds the back of my neck. “Because there were some pretty kick-ass trinkets back there. I think you might be getting the short end.”

“Not even close.”

I kiss him with the sun setting over the Pacific Ocean and the pier lights buzzing as they come to life. The wind whips around us and I press against his warm sun-kissed skin. The weeks of wanting him and holding back make our kisses frantic and sloppy.

We stumble off the wheel and down the pier, laughing and stopping every few feet to kiss and stare at each other. I feel like we’re finally seeing each other without any pretenses or expectations, and us like this—as a real couple—we’re even better than I ever imagined when we’d been faking.

Camila sent a text to tell us she went to a bar down the street from her apartment and to stop by if we wanted, but when the Uber drops us off, it’s a race to be alone. Inside my old room, he kicks the door closed and presses me against it.

Soft lips caress while the scruff on his face scratches. Gentle and hard. Tender and demanding.

We’re both sober, so tomorrow morning there’ll be no regrets and no excuses. I want him and he wants me. Period. End of discussion.

Nathan slides the straps of my dress down and his mouth follows, trailing kisses from my shoulder to the top of my breasts. I arch into him, wanting more even as his erection presses into my hip.

I hook my leg around him, which causes my dress to slide up. His fingers find my ass, and he lifts me up so I can wrap both legs around him. The new positioning has him just where I need him, and I grind against him at a pace that has us both breathless and panting.

“Condom,” I rasp.

He curses under his breath. “I didn’t bring any.”

“Bathroom.”

He seems to understand and tightens his grip on my right side. His left hand opens the door and then steadies me as he carries me down the hall toward the bathroom.

“Where?” he asks when he steps over the threshold.