She kisses me back, tentative, and then she grows bold, our tongues dancing. She’s not innocent anymore, not like when we were kids. She’s given someone else her other firsts, but that kiss—that still belongs to me.

She presses her curves against me and makes a small, plaintive sound. I could kiss her forever. I could live in this memory—past fused with the present. This kiss would be my heaven.

I realize, though, that I can’t keep Poppy in this closet for the rest of our lives, and that if we keep going, I’m definitely going to want to get her naked—okay, I already do—and make her come. I want to know what my name sounds like as a moan on her lips. I want to see her cheeks flush when I whisper how sexy she is, because I know under these clothes is a gorgeous body begging to be worshiped.

But I’ve already made enough mistakes when it comes to Poppy, so instead I slow the kiss, scale back on the tongue, loosen my hold on her, and open the closet door.

I take her face in my hands and press a few semi-chaste kisses to her lips. Then I go back for one more with tongue because I don’t have as much self-control as I’d like.

When I try to leave the closet, Poppy wraps her arms more tightly around me and tries to pull the door closed again.

“What’re you doing?” I ask around her tongue.

“Adding another seven minutes.”

I laugh, but then it’s not me leading anymore, it’s her. I don’t try to slow her down again, but instead of staying where we are, I take a step back, then another and another until I hit the opposite wall.

If it’s her against it, not me, I’m liable to find a nice warm home for my thigh between her legs, or worse, I’ll use the convenience of the wall as a great way to keep her pinned as I lift her up and wrap her legs around my waist.

And she’d let me. The tension between us has been building for a while now, and all this truth is unraveling the tenuous control I’ve been holding on to when it comes to her.

But if I fuck this up, I stand to lose a lot. Poppy’s touch is the first to be enjoyable in my entire adult life, and I want to find out exactly how good it is when we’re naked. And that’s not happening tonight.

She moves her palm from the back of my neck to my cheek. I have a brief moment of panic in which flashes of Tash touching me like this threaten to ruin the moment. Every hint of gentleness with Tash was balanced with aggression. But this is different. Poppy is almost careful, and as much as I like the way that feels, it makes me nervous. She has a new, different kind of power over me, and I’m not sure how to deal with that.

When her hand moves to my chest, I cover it with mine.

She pulls back; worry making her sparkling eyes wide. “Sorry.”

I lift her palm back to my cheek and drag her fingers along my jaw, then I kiss the tip of each one, resisting—just barely—the urge to bite or suck on them. My dick is achingly hard.

“I’m going to go home now.” Jesus. It sounds like I gargled with razor blades.

“You don’t have to leave yet.” Her eyes drop, her teeth pressing into her lip.

“Poppy, look at me.”

Her gaze lifts. She’s hurt. I can read it in her expression.

“I’m not leaving because I don’t want you. I’m leaving because I do.”

“But I—”

“If I’m going to have to see a different massage therapist for the rest of my life, I’m sure as hell not going to screw up my chances of getting more kisses like that from you by jumping the gun tonight. Your body is a gift I want to earn the right to enjoy. Okay?”

That changes the hurt to a tender smile. “Okay.”

“Can I steal one more kiss, though?”

“Please.”

I savor her—taste her mouth, sample the sweetness of her tongue and the press of her body against mine. I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want her. I don’t want to claim, fuck, devour. I want to be worthy, and I’m afraid I never will be.

This is exactly what makes me a bad person, because that won’t stop me. I’ll get inside her. I’ll find out how good it feels to be with her, even if I never deserve her.

CHAPTER 15

FIRST DATE ADVICE

LANCE

It’s Friday, and that means tonight I’m taking Poppy out on a date. A real date. One that includes dinner, and whatever the fuck else I can think of to make her more likely to go out with me again, beyond the second date I’ve managed to pre-negotiate.

Canceling all my massage appointments made me aware of how on point I need to be tonight, which is why I’m currently sitting in Waters’ kitchen, getting advice from Violet. She and I got tight when Waters had an accident last season and I beat the fuck out of the guy who took him off the ice.

I haven’t been hanging around with them as much lately. However, right now I need dating advice, so here I am.

I could talk to Lily, but I haven’t said anything to Randy about this date. I figure it’s better to keep it on the down low for now.

Violet’s standing on the other side of her kitchen island, going through a bag of baby clothes and toys.

“Seriously. How much stuff does a baby need? Don’t they just eat, sleep, crap, and cry? Why do they need so many outfits? Ohhh! This is awesome!” She holds up a onesie with an inappropriate logo on it.

Miller and Sunny’s baby is only a week or so old, but apparently he’s huge for a newborn. His name is Logan. I’ve only been over to visit once. I’m not sure I’m all that great with babies since he puked on me and crapped himself during the two minutes I held him.