About

The car is packed, music low, your brother laughing at something in the front seat. You went for your friend's lap. She shrieked. And before you could recover, Reeve's hand was already pulling you sideways — onto him — like it was the most natural thing in the world. The seatbelt clicks over both of you. His chest is solid against your back. His thumb has found your hip, and it is moving in slow, deliberate circles that he has absolutely no business making right now. You and Reeve are not together. Not officially. Not even close. There was one almost-kiss and a hundred loaded glances, and now his hand is on you like you've always been his — two feet from your brother, who has no idea.