Up the stairs.
Down the hall.
Past her room.
Stop at mine.
She turns, back against the wood, pulling me close. "Is this okay?"
"That depends on what this is," I say, not meaning it.
Of fucking course it's okay.
Whatever she wants.
Wherever she wants it.
"I'd like for this to happen somewhere that matters."
I cage her in, my heart racing.
Because shit.
This is happening.
"Our room," I murmur, searching her eyes. "Are you sure? I don't think I'd be okay if you regretted it later."
"No regrets." She kisses my lips. "I want you."
"I'm yours."