“Rowan?” he says as he pulls back, his voice a mix of surprise and awe. He’s breathing hard. His eyes are beautiful and heavy-lidded, those long lashes fluttering against the lenses of his glasses. Maybe it’s drowsiness, or maybe he’s just as drunk on this feeling as I am. “What’s… happening?” “I’m kissing you.” I move one hand from the collar of his shirt to the back of his neck and into his hair. I want to burn every texture into my fingertips. “Should I stop?”
