“Later, guys.”
They enter her room. It still looks bare without Jenny’s things. Richard slips out of his jacket.
“When are you heading out?” he asks.
“I have to be outside the union in an hour.” Haley’s coat comes off as well.
Richard steps in close to her. “That gives us a little time.”
“Time for what?” She moves her face close to his so he doesn’t see the warmth spread on her cheeks. She’s like a human thermometer—so embarrassing.
He lifts one hand to her brow, weaves his fingers through her hair. He combs her hair back from her face. His eyes are inches from hers.
“I think this is the part when we kiss,” he says.
He says this so quietly, she’s not sure what she’s heard. But then his lips are on hers, gently at first, then pressing, warm, and his meaning is clear. His face feels scratchy, like fine sandpaper. He smells like soap. Like cold wind. Like damp earth and dry leaves.
When the kiss ends, Richard draws back, slightly, and looks at her.
“Is this okay?”
Haley’s mouth opens slightly as she leans forward, her breath mingling with his. Yes. She hears a foot scrape as he shifts closer. His lips part as they move against hers, and . . . yes. Like a sigh. Like a secret. Like warm melt.
Yes.
“Yes.”