“No, Hood, you’re confusing your sports. Baseball is the one with the high socks and PEDs. Football is the one with the tight pants and –”
The kiss took her off guard, just like it always did. Nothing could prepare her for the whirlwind strength of his lips on hers, no matter how often it had happened. It took her breath away, leaving a swell of elation cresting from her chest. Muscles relaxed, tension from the day melting as she eased against him. In contrast, her heart began thumping wildly against her chest, threatening to burst through her ribs and tear out of her skin.
It was strange affection, this clandestine dance they did. Chasing criminals, trading quips, kissing in the moonlight. She would have considered it romantic if romance wasn’t totally and completely lost on her. Years and experiences had left her jaded. But this? This was hope, and she was happier than she’d been in a long time. It was something she couldn’t quite comprehend. So, she couldn’t define it. Didn’t understand it. She’d managed to cull her inner control freak months ago, but she was still learning to let things be. Not everything needed an explanation. Not everything needed a clear cut designation.
Her hands slipped around his shoulders, resting gently at the nape of his neck. She drew him in, closing the last remaining bit of space between them. Each movement of lips and tongue was read – anticipated, and returned as if on instinct. Their lips pressed together hard, demanding and butterflies bloomed in her torso in response. The confident, sure embrace wrapped around her like an ethereal blanket.
Breaking the kiss, her lips parted from his, hovering a few inches from his face. Breath caught in her throat for a beat, dilated eyes staring past Hood’s face toward the night sky. “We should probably stop meeting like this. Right?” Her tone was tentative, holding the slightest trace of sarcasm as a grin ghosted across rosy lips.
He exhaled as she pulled away, struck as always by just how soft she was. Her, the woman who danced through mobs like a windmill of fists and feet, was like putty in his arms.
“Beat me in tag one of these days and we can discuss a new arrangement. Until then, winner sets the rules.”
Then he’s a whisper of breath at her ear, a hint of teeth on her neck. Somewhere, a dog howls at the sky. The city is quiet.
Neither of them notice. They’re wrapped up in each other, like they so often are, letting all the training and caution go so they can enjoy the company of the other. They are at peace, both of them, for the first time in either of their lives.
It’s not until he’d pushed back from her, rolling off and next to her, that he spoke. With his eyes reflecting the brilliant moon, he murmured soft words under his breath.
“You ever wonder who I am in the daylight, Batsie?”
and all of this will never be the same again 