exploded from her chest. “I’m just being stupid. Really.”
“Then come be stupid upstairs with me.”
She laughed, and I glimpsed the real Shelby for the first time since we stood with arms raised in the parking lot. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open on her floor. She lifted her tearful eyes, wet like two stones after a rainstorm. The elevator doors slid closed in lieu of her answer.
My stomach clenched, and I wrapped one arm entirely around her waist, pulling her in closer. I didn’t quite trust myself to speak right now. Part of me wanted to yell at her. What if I hadn’t been there tonight? Another part ticked over the facts. She’d spent years going to that place. Why now? Why had one of those kids targeted her tonight? A thought struck me hard, like a bolt of lightning. It was my car—I’m the one that put us in danger. The locals probably knew Shelby’s car, if she parked so frequently in that lot. But a red Audi R8? It stood out like a neon “come rob me” sign in that neighborhood. That douchebag probably saw it and waited for whoever owned the car to come out.
Shelby’s shaky hand slid up my shirt, caressing the dips and curves of my abs and chest. A sharp breath caught in my throat and lodged there as a current took over in my veins. She was touching me. Shelby Stevens was touching me. She lifted her chin and looked up at me, her eyelashes spiked with the last of her tears. Her warm breath held remnants of mint and chocolate from her milkshake, and she licked her lips, holding my stare.
I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes as her other hand gently curled around the back of my neck, and I shuddered at the bold touch. Twirling her fingers through the back of my hair, she gave the strands a gentle tug. And then, she lifted onto her toes and pressed her lips to mine.
Chapter Twelve
SHELBY
I grasped Tate, holding him firmly in my arms. I wanted to be with him, and it took a gun shoved in my face for me to realize that I was done hiding from my feelings, no matter how scary they were. What would Reagan do right now in my shoes?
And so, I took a page out of her book, and I kissed Tate. I kissed him for a lot of reasons. Because he saved me. Because I wanted to know how those lips would feel nibbling on mine. Because I was shaken and I needed a physical reminder that I was here and alive with blood pumping through my veins. But most of all—because I wanted to. I wanted to kiss Tate. And hold him. And feel his firm body pressed against mine.
I dragged my fingernails down his neck as his hands tangled in my hair. Then, fingers cupping my jaw, he pushed my lips off of him. As he gently ended the kiss, an unexpected whimper escaped my lips.
He pressed his mouth into a thin line and heaved a shaky breath. “Jesus, Shelby. I don’t want to, but we have to stop a second—”
The elevator opened into his lobby, and I took his hand, giving him a gentle tug toward his doorway. He reluctantly followed, and I had to laugh at the crazy, sudden role reversal.
He shook his head, a hand rubbing behind his neck. “Shelby, wait—stop.”
But I didn’t wait. And I couldn’t stop. Because if I paused long enough to think things over, or really consider what just happened tonight, I would be bogged down with doubt and concerns, and I didn’t want that. Not right now. I pushed Tate into the wall behind him and nibbled from his jaw down to his neck. The taste of his salty skin tingled on my tongue, and the tiny bit of stubble from his morning shave scraped my cheek.
“Shelby,” he whispered, and his hand landed gently on my hip. He spun us around so that my back was now against the wall, and with an arm over my head, he caged me in. With the other hand, he tilted my chin, angling my eyes to his. “I need to know you’re okay. Are you hurt? This—this could be trauma or, or…I don’t know. But you’re kind of scaring me here.”
His eyes shifted back and forth between each of mine, reading me—or trying to. Unfortunately for Tate, I was a book written in invisible