Page 70 of Puck Me Twice

My eyes water. “You—you know what that is?”

“Extreme sensitivity to particular sounds.” She nods. “Noise sensitivity is common among autistic people, but they don’t all have misophonia. Researchers are still looking for a link, though.”

“How…”

Vanessa squeezes my arm. “When you first told me… I started researching. I want to help you, support you. The last thing I want is to be a burden to you or trigger you by accident. I didn’t know enough about autism, and I know it’s all highly relative to each person, but I needed to know the basics, and it isn’t your job to educate me. That’s putting more emotional labor on you, whether you want to do it or not.”

I marvel at this woman. How does she just…

I love you. The words are on the tip of my lips. I want to blurt them out, I want to scream them from the rooftops.

But I don’t. Because if she’s not ready for marriage to be on the table, then I highly doubt she’ll be okay with me definitively declaring my feelings for her, either.

Cupping her cheek with my palm, her skin feels silky soft beneath my fingertips, and her light floral perfume washes over me in a tidal wave of familiarity and comfort.

My eyes on hers, I give her every chance to pull away as I lean down and slowly brush my lips over hers. Her mouth parts on a gasp, though I’m careful to keep the kiss light and sweet, an innocent whisper of lips on lips. Her taste sends a burst of want ricocheting through me, ping-ponging off all my internal organs and coalescing deep in my gut.

Her fingers tighten on my bicep, squeezing me as tightly as a blood pressure cuff. Panic wells within me. Oh no. No, no. She doesn’t like this. I need to⁠—

I pull back.

My vision blurs, and her eyes are hazy, her lips parted as she stares up at me.

And then she sighs, relinquishing her intense hold and relaxing her grip. Vanessa moves her hand up to my shoulder, then wraps the other arm around my neck, bringing my body flush to hers.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“Hi?”

I think I messed up, but her reaction doesn’t seem to go along with that theory. What do I do now? How do I⁠—

She crashes her mouth into mine, rough and needy. A wild noise escapes my throat as she licks into my mouth, her tongue tangling with mine. Tilting her head back for a better angle, I deepen the kiss. She lets out a soft pant against my mouth.

“More,” she breathes.

There’s a cough behind me, and slowly, I pull back. Dazed and disoriented, I see her roommates standing on opposite sides of the room, watching us with what seems to be amusement on their faces.

“As much as I’m happy you guys like each other and everything,” Elsy says, “We have a strict rule, no hooking up in the common areas of the apartment.”

Vanessa glares at her roommate, even as a pretty pink blush stains her cheeks. “We weren’t…”

“Girl, you were ten seconds away from climbing him like a tree,” Bex cuts in. “And hey, I get it. He’s hot. But Els is right. We don’t need to see it happen. I’m not a voyeur, and I don’t think you’re really all that into exhibitionism.”

My eyebrow arches up at her casual mention of kink in everyday conversation. Most people I meet in this country are far too repressed to admit to being interested in kink, much less knowledgeable about it.

Bex shrugs. “I’ve been re-reading some of Madison’s books. I forgot how spicy he writes them.”

“We’re leaving now,” Vanessa declares, before I can inquire who this Madison person is, and why he’s writing spicy things. She removes her arms from my body, reaching down to clasp my hand.“You ready?”

“For you?” I link our fingers together and squeeze her hand. She smiles up at me. “Always.”

twenty-three

. . .

Sven

The restaurant is a quiet bistro tucked into the North End. MacGregor didn’t blink when I asked for a recommendation, just gave me the name and clapped me on the shoulder.