You’re right.” A wicked little grin tugged at his lips. “I think we should celebrate.” Pausing, he waggled his brows at me. “We have fifty minutes now. I only need, like, five of them.”“Oh my God,” I laughed, shoving at his shoulders. “You’re terrible.”“I’m not terrible.” His eyes met mine, and the flutter was back, deeper and more dizzying. “I’m in love.”Oh, gosh. My heart swelled like a balloon, and all I could do was stare at him for several seconds before I managed to whisper, “I love you, too.”“I know.” Rider lowered his mouth to mine, and the kiss scattered my thoughts.
Jennifer L. Armentrout, The Problem with Forever
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