Page 64 of Rival Season
I drag my mouth away from hers and she makes an indignant sound, trying to tug my head back down so my lips are on hers again, but I don’t give her that just yet. Hazel brings her hands to my chest, and I slide my hand out of her hair to gently grab her wrists before pinning them above her head, holding her in place.
I’m a man on a mission, desperate to find out what she likes; what makes her feel good. I press a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the base of her neck, tasting the same silky, sweet skin there that I was breathing in earlier and relishing in the way her pulse jumps under my lips. She tastes as good as she smells. I’m drunk on her as I kiss my way back up her neck before running my tongue along her bottom lip, licking the taste of sweetness there. In response, she smiles wickedly and nips my lip with her teeth. I chuckle, unable to remember the last time I had this much fun.
I keep Hazel’s hands pinned above her head as I claim her mouth again, giving her what she wants and relishing in the little sounds she makes. I don’t know how long we stay wrapped up in each other, both exploring and tasting and teasing, but I do know I could happily stay here forever.
Eventually, a sharp knock on the other side of the door has us plunging back into reality, and we hurriedly break apart, both struggling to catch our breath. My hands release hers, and I lay my head on Hazel’s shoulder.
“What could you possibly want?” I snap at whoever is behind the door.
Which might be considered rude, given my roommates threw me a great party, but I wasbusy, dammit.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Surprisingly, it’s Noah, not Fisher…and he sounds amused. “But we got you a cake and we were kind of wanting to cut it soon—Carver and his wife have to get home because they only have their babysitter until eleven.” I can hear the smirk in his voice as he adds, “Plus, after midnight it’s technically not even your birthday anymore.”
I lift my head up so I can look at Hazel. Her lips are swollen and red, her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes look wild…and she’s never looked more gorgeous.
“I can’t believe it’s so late,” she whispers. “We were in here for a while.”
I grin as I reach out to slide the strap of her dress, which slipped down at some point during our kiss, back up onto her shoulder. “Guess time flies when you’re having fun.”
“So, you like the red dress?” she asks, her expression taking on a shy look of vulnerability.
My smile softens, realizing that dressing up like this was brave of her since she doesn’t usually dress this way. “I love this look,” I say. “But I also kind of miss your jumper.” I lower my voice. “You look great both ways, and I think we would’ve had fun no matter what you wore tonight.”
This makes her cheeks turn crimson, almost the exact color of her dress.
I press a soft, slow kiss to Hazel’s mouth. “So.” I kiss her again. “Much.” Another kiss. “Fun.”
“Guys? Hello?” Noah calls.
Hazel’s eyes meet mine, and we both burst into laughter.
I raise a brow at her. “You game for cake?”
She smirks. “You could say I’ve worked up an appetite.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” I say, before raising my voice, and calling out, “Sorry, Downsby, we’ll be right out. Cake sounds great.”
A few minutes later, we re-emerge to the party, both still a little breathless and disheveled. A whole hockey team is in attendance, so of course we’re greeted by multiple catcalls and whoops, and I’m worried that Hazel will be embarrassed, but she grins sheepishly, seeming to take it in stride. She looks at ease, like she isn’t second-guessing her decision to change our rules.
Her hair is still down. I can hardly take my eyes off of her curls, remembering how her thick hair felt wrapped around my hand. I’m already ready for a repeat performance of those insanely hot kisses.
Fisher carries out a ridiculous cake that saysIt’s Your Birthday, Eh?on the front in red frosted letters, and everyone sings “Happy Birthday.”
A sense of contentment settles over me as I slide my arm around Hazel and pull her into my side before I blow out my candles. At this moment, I’m truly happy. I have everything I could have ever asked for in my life.
I haven’t made a birthday wish since I was five years old, but this year, I do.
It’s for this feeling to stay for as long as possible.
CHAPTER 24
HAZEL
It’s a cool Monday afternoon,and I’m settled in at a wooden table inside the Berkeley library. Light streams in through the windows courtesy of the gorgeous California sunshine, casting shapes and shadows on my notes from my recent interview with Marcy, a family advocate who volunteered several hours of her time last month at Safe Harbor and was kind enough to sit for an interview for my research.
Women like Marcy inspire me with the work they do helping families and making sure their voices are heard. She gave me brilliant insight for my dissertation, like how she fights for siblings in foster care to stay together and how court hearings go.
I might be the one with an almost doctorate, but people like Marcy are the ones with all the real expertise from working in the field, and I want to learn from them so I can do my job well.
