Page 53 of Hometown Halftime

“Yeah, you’ve said that before,” he agrees softly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

For a charged moment, we just stand there, the leaves whispering above us, the festival lights glowing through the branches, the town alive and unaware beyond our little hidden space.

His eyes scan my face until they land on my lips, and heat prickles my skin. I slowly lick my bottom lip, wanting to see his reaction. His jaw ticks and his hand cups my cheek, thumb sweeping.

I want to kiss him, and I don’t really give a damn about the consequences.

“Fuck it,” I whisper.

I place my hands on his jaw, pulling his face to mine. My lips meet his and, God, I think I might die. He keeps his hand on my cheek, and his other slides from my side to my back, pulling me to him. We both exhale and sink into it. He takes control of the pace, and butterflies erupt inside me.

It’s different from our kiss that night in Roanoke. It’s almost familiar this time. Like last time was a test and this time it’s exploration. His lips are soft yet commanding; the pressure is perfect. He nips my bottom lip and I part for him. When his tongue slides against mine, he tilts my head for better access, and I get lost.

Kissing Riley Weston is perfection. Absolute, panty-melting perfection.

When we pull apart, we’re both breathing hard, foreheads touching.

“Wow,” I whisper.

His smile is slow and devastatingly gorgeous. “Yeah, wow. I shouldn’t tell you this, but fuck, Kinsey, I’ve been thinking about kissing you again practically every minute since that night at the club.”

I laugh. “Did it live up to what you remembered?”

His eyes meet mine as he drags his thumb along my bottom lip. “So much better. You have no idea.”

Chapter twenty-three

Riley

“We should get back.”

The words come out rougher than I expect, like my brain is still trying to catch up with my body.

Kinsey’s mouth is still close to mine. Close enough that I can feel the warmth of her breath and her breasts rising against my chest. Her body is warm against mine and fuck, it feels so good.

The music from Main Street drifts through the trees around us, muffled by distance. A burst of applause comes from near the stage. The whole town carries on while I’m caught in Kinsey’s orbit and my heart is beating like I just sprinted the length of twenty-five football fields. My lips are still tingling, the sensation lingering in a way that makes it impossible to dismiss.

Kinsey shifts, and I step back, giving her room, but her eyes stay locked on mine like she’s not ready to fully let go of the moment. The string lights from the festival glow through the branches above us, catching in her dark hair and making her eyes sparkle.

I drag a hand through my hair, mostly to keep from doing something incredibly stupid—like pulling her right back in and claiming her mouth again.

“We should get back before anyone notices we’re gone,” I repeat, nodding toward the chaos.

Kinsey glances that way, like she’s just remembering where we are.

“Right,” she says.

The space between us feels different now. It’s charged, stretched tight, like something changed the second our mouths touched and hasn’t settled back into place. I didn’t know a kiss could do that, that it could make your chest feel too tight and too light at the same time.

Kinsey exhales and gives a small shake of her head. “Well,” she says, in an exacerbated tone, “we seem to have trouble keeping our mouths off each other when we’re alone.”

I can’t stop the grin that spreads across my face. “Yeah,” I say. “It’s quite the problem.”

She reaches out, tugging at my jacket and adjusting my hoodie. “We need to make sure we don’t look disheveled.”

I glide my hands down her sleeves, then I spread my palms against her breasts to smooth out her sweater.

Her brow arches. “Rookie, what are you doing?”