Chapter Thirty-Two

Nora

On a choked curse, he yanks me back by the hips, filling me to the hilt in a single stroke. My mouth opens on a silent cry, because oh my God . Feeling him with nothing between us sends a sharp, electric thrill through my body.

His voice is strained. "Unless you want me to come inside you, do not move ."

Knowing I can't move means I've never wanted anything more in my entire life. My nipples pull painfully tight as my fingers splay against the wall of the photobooth.

His hands massage my ass, smoothing and groping and lifting as if he's trying to get a better look at where he's buried inside me.

"Goddamn." His deep voice drips with need, and my insides clench around him as he grips my ass, unsubtle in his adoration. "I was ready for a tease and you're giving me everything? I'd kill to be alone with you right now."

"It feels like we're alone, doesn't it?" I hold his eye, rocking my hips backward once. "I still don't hear anyone."

" Nora ," he warns, sliding a hand around to my belly. Holding me in place.

"I'm sorry." But I'm not. I squirm against him, desperate for friction.

He wraps my hair around his fist and tugs until I'm sitting upright, impaled on his cock. His mouth drags up my neck until it's on my ear. "You're not sorry. You fucking love it."

"I do."

Not just for what it is, but because it's him . I ache for this man who covers his sleeping grandmother in a blanket and worries for his best friend the way someone would their sister. Who so badly wanted flowers to match not because he cares but because he knew Rosalina would. Who worked the claw machine until he won just to give me a stuffed duck and would've fixed my ladder the day we met in the store just because it was broken.

I begin a slow slide up and down. His fist tightens in my hair, and he exhales with a guttural desperation that reduces me to a mindless puddle of want. I could get addicted to listening to him break. As addicted as I am to seeing his name on my phone.

I bounce faster. Harder.

"You want me dripping down your legs when we go back out to our friends, don't you? You want me to come inside you." His hands drop to my waist, grinding me against him, making me take him deeper. "Maybe I should give you what you want."

Yes, please. My heart races as if to burst out of my chest. "I told you when we texted that I got the shot," I nearly whimper. "A few days after poker. Just in case we—"

He grabs my jaw and looks me in the eye, his breathing ragged. " That's the shot you meant— Wait, does that mean it's safe?"

I nod frantically.

" Thank God ." He abandons all restraint as he sets our new pace, slamming me down onto his cock, his fingers digging into my hips. I'm already halfway gone and the feel of him hitting me in all the right places is about to send me the rest of the way.

"Sebastian!" I suck in a breath as the cascade of sparks shoots outward from my core—

A deep voice in the near distance grumbles that they forgot their beer at the bar. I gasp, but Sebastian covers my mouth with a firm hand, trapping my cry in his palm as I clench around him, bucking in his lap as I'm swept away by the intensity of my orgasm. The physical relief is so powerful my muscles sing.

He spills into me seconds later, nearly soundless, still covering my mouth. As he comes down, he loosens his hold just enough to stroke my cheek with his thumb as he throbs inside me. My body turns to molten caramel as the faint ringing in my ears fades to nothing.

I could stay in this moment forever, hidden from the world with him.

"Here." He tugs my underwear from his pocket, carefully pulls out of me, and takes care of business in the most practical and tender of ways.

He moves to tuck the soaked proof of what we did back in his pocket, but his hand goes still when he catches my eye. One of his dark brows lifts as he feeds me a wolfish smile. "Unless you were planning to wear them?"

Impossibly, heat gathers anew between my legs, even as a furious blush glides over my cheeks. "Well I don't like to go without…"

He hands them over, his voice a low rasp. "My dirty fucking girl."

His fingers make quick work of his zipper and button, then he adjusts my skirt so it's facing the correct way and guides me sideways across his lap. He's still half out of breath.

I trace his lips with my fingertip. "I'm starting to think skirts and dresses aren't safe with us. Or arcades. Especially when we haven't seen each other in a while."

"It doesn't matter what you wear, Nora. Or where we are, or how much time has passed." His breathing starts to calm as his arms gather me close. "I will never stop wanting you."

I pull back to look at him. My lungs and throat seem to freeze all at once. Our eyes hold, his widening like he's the one who's shocked by the words that just came out of his mouth.

But faraway shouting cuts in before I can even form a thought, let alone a response.

"Is that Enzo yelling?" he asks, trying to stand before he remembers he has a human on his lap.

I jump to my feet and reach for the curtain. Sebastian swipes our printed photos from the booth and then my stuffed duck from the top of the claw machine as we rush out of the arcade.

Enzo and Ro are squared off in the seating area next to our lane.

Benji and Alessia awkwardly hover by the ball return machine as if unsure whether to get involved.

Sebastian clears his throat as we move closer. "Hey, is everything—"

"You can't possibly blame this all on me!" Ro jabs her finger against Enzo's chest. "You're really going to pretend like it doesn't bother you that no one in your family will ever like me? That they hate the mother of your future children?"

"We knew our families didn't like one another, but we decided that's not a dealbreaker. We'd accepted that. I was blindsided when you called off the wedding, don't you get that?"

"I do get it. But I'm trying to be realistic."

"We just had to make it through that one week—"

"What about life afterward, though? That was just the opening ceremonies to the hating Olympics of our future with them. You're not willing to cut your family out and neither am I. Where does that leave us? What about raising our kids with our families still very much involved?"

Enzo rakes his fingers through his hair. "Very much involved? I'm the one who will raise our kids with you, Rosalina! You and I. You act like your mother will be delivering the baby herself!"

"She might help! My mother will be involved, Enzo. Whether I want her around all the time or not, I'm going to need her help. They would be willing. Far more than your dad or grandmother, mind you."

His eyes fall shut. "I will schedule a meeting with my dad to talk to him. Will that fix this?"

"You can talk to your dad all you want, but will it change his mind about me? He's set in his ways. Right, Alessia?"

"Oh, I don't— Maybe?" Alessia tugs on the neck of her hoodie as if it's strangling her. "Maybe what you need is to sit down somewhere quiet and really talk this out? Maybe using your inside voices?"

"Rosalina doesn't have an inside voice!" Enzo yells.

"Neither do you!" Ro yells back. "Maybe it's better we endure the pain of breaking up now to avoid pain later when they inevitably wear us down so bad it ruins our marriage."

"That is the most depressing thing I ever heard. Pain now to avoid pain later? Sabotaging a marriage before it even begins? Can someone tell her how ridiculous that sounds, please?" Enzo blusters.

My eyes meet Sebastian's. A muscle in his jaw jumps.

Avoid pain later by ripping off a Band-Aid now: the foundational belief for avoiding long-distance relationships.

Is this what's coming for him and I? Pain later because we didn't put an end to this thing sooner? We've known all along he's leaving. We tried to distance ourselves—unsuccessfully. And now, the more time we spend together, the more it feels like we're barreling headfirst toward a relationship.

I will never stop wanting you.

That may be true for both of us, but it won't change our situation.

Benji crosses his arms. "My honest opinion is that people put way too much pressure on the idea of marriage. It's more of a legal contract than anything."

" Benji ," I groan. "You are not helping."

Ro's eyes shine with tears as she whirls toward her brother. "You think I shouldn't marry him?"

"I'm not saying that," Benji argues. "I was just speaking broadly, saying people tend to— Please stop crying."

"It's all I do these days," she mutters.

Enzo casts a miserable look at Ro. "Then why didn't you just call me? Why did we need four people to orchestrate this conversation?"

"Because it hurts too much, all right?" Ro's voice is razor-sharp as mascara streaks down her cheek. Her voice carries down the lanes, drawing several sets of curious eyes. "This isn't easy for me. I'm a fucking mess!"

"I'm hurting too, Rosalina! I was the one alone in our house when you left. You don't have a monopoly on suffering."

Alessia steps forward. "Okay, okay. Maybe we should call it a night, Z. You're not going to get anywhere when emotions are high, and I don't want you to say something you'll regret."

"What's there for me to regret?" His gaze hardens. " I'm not the one who caused this. I'm not the problem here."

"Enzo, stop ," Alessia insists.

Ro blinks away from him. Benji catches her with an arm over her shoulders. "C'mon sis. Let's go." He casts a deeply disappointed if not murderous look Enzo's way. " She's not the problem, either. Why don't you direct some of that anger toward the right people, starting with that dad of yours who insulted her in front of everyone?"

And he guides her toward the exit without a backward glance, never removing his arm from her shoulders. I don't have the heart to go chase after them and interrupt their desperately needed bonding, even though Benji was my ride.

Alessia stares evenly at her twin.

"What, now you're mad at me, too?" Enzo shakes his head. "Outstanding. I'm out of here."

He grumbles his goodbye as he strides away from our lane.

Sebastian pats his pockets as if looking for his keys. "Where is he going? I drove him here."

Alessia sighs. "I'll take him home. To my place, specifically, so he won't go back into his wallowing mode. The man just started answering our texts again."

Sebastian nods. "All right. Drive safely. Text me if you need anything."

I'm still gaping at her back when she reaches the exit. All my excitement and energy from earlier has escaped, leaving me feeling like a deflated balloon. "They're never getting married, are they?"

Sebastian's pause is lengthy. "I don't know. But at least they're talking." He hands me my stuffed duck. "That has to count for something, right?"

I nod, grasping the plush yellow creature. "It counts."

For how much, I'm not sure.

"I guess bowling is over," he says. "How about I drive you home?"

…

Sebastian and I get into his car. I curl up on the passenger's seat and feed him directions to my place. Neither of us reaches for the radio, so we lapse into silence.

After the chaos we just left, silence feels a little odd, but not entirely unwelcome.

At the first red light, he stretches his neck side to side, jaw clenched.

I dust my fingers down his neck. "You're tense."

His profile is stern as he stares straight ahead. "I'm sorry about what I said in the photo booth."

I swallow what feels like acid. That was the most meaningful promise anyone has ever given me, and he's apologizing for it? He's gone from "always" to "never mind" in under an hour flat?

I guess Enzo and Ro's fight sparked something in him, too.

Regret.

I retract my hand. I can't pretend I'm not crushed, even if it'd be a thousand times easier if we didn't want each other as much as we do. Hearing him take those words back cuts straight to the core of me.

And yet, my voice comes out hollow. "It's fine. We got carried away back there."

"No." His jaw clenches like he's biting down, but he takes my hand across the center console. "I'm sorry because I meant it. Every word. But I shouldn't have told you."

Relief and satisfaction and confusion form a confusing cocktail in my blood. "Why not?"

"Because it puts pressure on the situation, and even though it's true, I"—he shakes his head—"forget it, okay?"

"I will not forget." My blood pumps harder as I turn in my seat. "I'm glad you said it. I feel the same way, Sebastian. This is real for me, and my feelings aren't going to change."

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel. "I can't pretend I'm not thrilled to hear you say that."

I manage a weak laugh, even as an intense uneasiness brews in my stomach. "Okay, but your tone does not sound thrilled. Is there more you want to say?"

"I don't mean to sound—I've just got a lot on my mind. That's all." His jaw ticks as he grabs my hand and laces his fingers in mine. He lifts my hand to kiss my knuckles. "You make me so happy, Nor. Like no one ever has. You know that, right?"

All I can do is nod and pretend I don't notice how tightly he grips my hand all the way back to my apartment, or the stilted small talk that is clearly his attempt to broadcast everything is fine! even as worry lines form in his forehead.

He shifts into park. The light affixed to the side of my old brick apartment building casts our bodies in an eerie glow through the glass windshield.

"Come here." He reaches across the center console and slides his warm hand behind my neck. Our foreheads fall together as he strokes my hair.

His kiss is slow enough that I have time to pay attention to the little things; the way his eyelashes brush mine when he angles his face just right. The tenderness of his hand as he maps my neck, jaw, and cheek. Almost as if he's memorizing it. "Goodnight, Nora."

Disappointment wraps me up and squeezes. He doesn't want to come inside my apartment, at least for a little while? He's never even seen the place.

I force myself to smile. "Okay. See you soon?"

He nods. "I'll be at the store with tutoring groups, then you could come to poker night?"

That's three days from now. A flash of hurt works through me that he's willing to wait that long to see me when our days are numbered. I don't need to be alone with him, but I do want to be able to talk to him. Poker isn't really a good time for that.

But I stuff that down, too. Emotions are heightened after Ro and Enzo's fight. I'm tense, and I'm projecting it on him.

That's all this is.

We expressed how we truly feel tonight, and I should be over the moon. I just wish I could shake the feeling that there's even more he's not saying.

Things I won't want to hear.