"You have a great family," he said. "I like them all. Your mom reminds me a lot of my mom."
"What did my sisters say to you?" she demanded, and he laughed again.
"They shoved me into the bathroom and told me that if I ever hurt you, they'd cut my balls off." He smirked. "Your father threatened me with a rifle and shovel." He nudged her in the ribs. "You must be pretty special if your entire family is threatening to end my life."
"That's just how they are," Drew said. "But they do mean it."
"Oh, I know that," he said with a nod. "That was obvious."
They walked along in silence for a bit until they reached the hallway leading to her apartment. She glanced at him. He really did seem to be perfectly at ease and she got the impression that he really had enjoyed meeting her family, death threats aside. When they reached her door she faced him.
"Listen, about last night," she began awkwardly and waved him off when he started to protest. "I really want you to know how sorry I am for acting like that, and how much I appreciate—well," she paused. "A lot of guys in your position might not have been as—nice and…and…gentlemanly as you were. And although it doesn't seem like it, on account of the throwing of the alarm clock and everything, I thank you for that."
Heath shrugged. "It just wouldn't have been right," he said simply.
"I just don't want you to think that, like –" She sighed in frustration. "That I'm the type of girl that…"
He leaned down to look directly into her eyes. "Drew, I know exactly what kind of girl you are," he said quietly. "So stop worrying about it. Shit happens." He smirked a little. "And, now I know. Never, ever let you drink hard alcohol." His eyes twinkled. "Well, maybe not never…"
She groaned and shoved his shoulder. "Be careful with me," he warned. "I'm stuffed to the brim and I could explode all over you."
"That would be disgusting," she said, smiling.
He held her gaze for a beat. "Well," he said lightly. "I better get home. I need to digest this food before I go to sleep and I've got to get up early tomorrow."
"Training?"
"Of course. Then work." He hefted the sack with his leftovers. "Thank your mom for this again for me. And thank you for inviting me to dinner."
"I didn't," she reminded him, grinning. "My sister did. And it wasn't so much an invite as it was a threat."
"You're right about that, silly me," he said with a chuckle. Their eyes met again and he smiled. "Good night, Drew."
"Good night," she replied. She slipped her arms around his waist to give him a light hug, feeling his free arm slip around her, his hand settling at the small of her back as he held her against him. Then, she automatically lifted her face to kiss his cheek. Sensing her face moving closer to his, he turned his head quickly toward hers to look at her, and her lips ended up lightly bumping against the corner of his lower lip. She pulled her head back slightly, color flaming in her cheeks.
"Sorry," she mumbled. Shit, fuck, dammit.
His head was still turned toward hers and he hadn't pulled away from her. Their eyes met for a long moment, his pewter-blue eyes narrowing slightly as they moved over her face. Drew swallowed hard, wondering if she'd just accidentally made an enormous mistake, and then Heath leaned in slightly, his eyes dropping to her mouth. She jumped when she felt his nose brush against the side of hers as he hovered his lips near hers, asking a silent question as his eyes met hers once again. Anxiety threatened to tear her to pieces in that moment, but she fought it back and tilted her head slightly, brushing her lips lightly against his. It wasn't a kiss, but it was her form of granting him permission.
She heard him pull in a breath lightly before she felt the amazing warmth and sensation of his lips pressing lightly to hers. She wanted to freeze, but instead she tentatively returned his kiss, allowing her eyes to close. It was all the encouragement he needed, one hand sweeping up her arm to slide under her hair and gently squeeze the back of her neck.
His lips were unbelievably soft, and their fullness added a completely different sensation to her mouth than anything she could ever have imagined. She stood very still and soaked in the sensations—the smooth satiny feeling of his lips, encompassing hers like two of the softest down pillows ever made, the feeling of his rough, calloused hand and thumb lightly stroking the smooth skin of the back of her neck and her cheek and jaw, alternating with gentle, comforting squeezes, the warmth of his breath flowing through his nose and tickling her cheek gently. How could she have ever felt the claws of panic at something so sweet?