I open the door with one hand and say, "I told you, you didn't have to come back with more—"
I don't finish the sentence.
I don't even get to breathe.
Kieran's mouth is on mine, stealing the rest of my words and replacing them with heat.
I was expecting Elliot back again with more apology treats. I definitely wasn't expecting this.
The kiss curls my toes and rearranges my spine, like he's trying to taste the memory of me. It's hot and hungry, all teeth and tongue and the kind of desperation that makes your brain forget how doors work.
He pulls back just enough to bite my bottom lip—hard enough to make me gasp, soft enough to make me want more.
"You're sweet," he says, grinning like a man who knows exactly what he's doing.
I blink, dazed. "Cinnamon buns."
His brow lifts. "What?"
"Nothing," I mumble, shaking my head to clear the fog. "Never mind. Just—get in here."
I tug him inside and close the door behind him.
"Kiki!" Oliver screams from the living room.
