Maybe a combination of all three? But something inside me breaks. I very slowly and intently inch my body closer across the bench seat, notching myself against him, alcohol-induced confidence taking over. I reach my hand to the side of his face and look deep into his eyes, like I’m asking permission. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, so I tilt my head, slide my hand around his chiseled waist, and pull him close, capturing his lips with mine. The moment we connect, static lines every part of me. I’m no longer liquid, I’m pure fire, every inch of me burning for him. I moan as Cole’s hands
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