Page 182 of Gamebreaker

"Harper," she said warmly.

"That was..." I couldn't finish the sentence, so I gestured vaguely at the kitchen, at myself, at the entire preceding fifteen minutes.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"I need you to know that I have many thoughts about what just happened, and I'll be sharing all of them at length. But not yet, because I'm still putting my higher brain functions back together."

"Take your time."

"There is one thought available right now, actually."

"What's that?"

"The counter," I said. "I want to be on the counter."

She went very still.

"Harper..."

"The counter," I said again. "I've had a very specific thought about counters since our first kiss, and I'd like to pursue it while I still have the nerve."

She looked at me for a moment, with the expression she wore when she was doing extremely fast math.

Then she picked me up.

I had about one second of being airborne before she set me on the counter, as easily as she did everything, like my weight genuinely wasn't a factor. She stepped between my knees, and the counter put me almost at eye level with her for once. The novelty of it, looking straight at her instead of up, made me reach for her face right away, just to have somewhere to put the feeling.

She let me hold her face.

"Do you know what I was thinking about at four this morning?" I said. "Before I posted?"

"Tell me."

"I was thinking about how you looked in the doorway last night. You looked so scared, Cam. And you came anyway." I traced her cheekbone with my thumb. "I've been brave my whole life because I didn't have a choice. They threw me out, so I was brave. Henry burned my life down, so I was brave. But you had a choice. You had every reason in the world to stay hidden, and you chose to be brave anyway. For me." My voice cracked. "I don't think anybody has ever been brave for me before."

Her eyes filled.

"I love you for that," I said. "I'm going to love you for that for the rest of my life."

She turned her head and pressed her mouth to my palm, and it hit me somewhere deeper than anything she'd done to me against a counter, which was saying a great deal.

"You're sure," she said against my hand.

"Yes. I'm very, very sure. I've been sure for weeks. I'm only now getting to act on it."

"Weeks."

"Roughly argument number four."

Her mouth curved against my palm. "Safeword."

"Basketball," I said. "Come on."

She kissed me.

The counter gave her a new angle, and she used it. One hand back at the base of my curls, tipping my head exactly where she wanted it. The other on my hip, holding me in place. I wrapped my legs around her waist and pulled her in, and she exhaled hard at the contact.

"God," she said against my mouth.