“What?” she asks immediately.
Sharp.
Guarded.
Good.
She feels it too.
“What?” I repeat, calm.
Her eyes narrow. “There are six other empty chairs.”
“There are.”
“Then why are you sitting next to me?”
Because I don’t like distance between us.
Because I don’t like other men near you.
Because I’ve already crossed the line and I’m not going back.
I lean in slightly.
Close enough that she has to feel it.
“Because I want to, linda. I belong right here,” I say, low.
Her breath stutters. I don’t miss it.
“And this is exactly where I want to be.”
Right next to you.
Within reach.
Where I can see you.
Where I can touch you.
I don’t say any of that out loud, but I also don’t give her time to think.
Thinking is where she pulls away.
I move.
Fast.
Decisive.
My hand slides to her jaw, tilting her face up just enough—and I kiss her.
Harder this time.
Not asking.
Not testing.