Page 46 of Puck Me Twice

Curling into him, I set my hand on his leg, and I can feel his entire body go tense.

Does he not want me to touch him?

Sven cups my face with his palm, keeping me close. He kisses me softly, sweetly. When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far, dropping a soft kiss on my forehead.

He breathes me in, and I take a moment to do the same, memorizing the scent of his soap and his skin.

“Ugh, you guys are so sweet,” Jenkins says.

Pope, sitting across the aisle from him, gags. “I might be sick.”

Robby, directly behind him, rolls his eyes. “Go be sick somewhere else.”

I have to sit in my own seat for takeoff. Sven doesn’t go far, though—he holds my hand, running his thumb over the back of my knuckles, and the simple intimacy of it makes my heart sing.

We need to have a conversation.

When we land, I let go of Sven’s hand and pull out my phone. It’s late, already after midnight, and I’m definitely not taking the T back to my apartment with my luggage.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

I tilt my screen so he can see the rideshare app.

“You’re not taking a rideshare at this time of night,” Sven says firmly. “I’ll drive you.”

“But—”

He glares at me.

“Listen to your boyfriend, Van,” MacGregor teases. He’s sitting behind us, and I glare at him over my shoulder. He smirks as he tucks his phone into his pocket.

It’s late, and there’s surcharge pricing on the app. With a sigh, I roll my eyes and nod. “Fine. If you insist.”

“I do.” Sven’s quiet determination rings through.

“Nah, man,” Robby says. “It’s too early to be saying that shit.”

Turning to glare at him, he grins and winks at me.

“It’s not, though,” Sven murmurs, so quiet only I can hear it.

Whipping to face him, his eyes are serious.

“It’s not too early.”

Laughing nervously, I grab for my purse. We definitely need to have a conversation.

His car is a big black SUV with creamy leather seats. He opens the door for me and then stows both his bags and mine in the trunk before rounding to his side.

There’s a lemon air freshener on the dash and a Chapstick in the cupholder. When he turns on the ignition, the radio connects to his phone, continuing the audiobook he listened to on the flight. He flicks off the radio.

“Do you want to come to my place?” he asks guilelessly.

“I should go home. It’s late.”

Sven accepts this at face value, and I punch my address into the car’s GPS, even though he dropped me off after our impromptu sleepover.

For a minute there, I was thinking about going home with him. For a minute, I was thinking about more with him.