Chloe's POV

The kiss didn’t stay soft for long.

Dale’s hand stayed cupped against the side of my neck, thumb brushing my jaw, while the other settled carefully at my waist. I kissed him back harder than I meant to, fingers curling in the front of his shirt. The table was still between us, half-finished plates forgotten. When we finally broke apart for air we were both breathing faster, his forehead rested against mine for a second.

“Chloe.” His voice was low. “We can stay right here and keep doing this. Or we can stop. Or we can go further. I need you to tell me which one you actually...