He did.
Soft at first. Gentle and careful like he was testing the waters. Then deeper as she wound her fingers through his still-damp hair and pulled him closer because she wanted more.
This. This was real. Not staged for cameras or carefully planned for press conferences. Just them.
When they finally pulled apart, both slightly breathless and flushed, he rested his forehead against hers.
"I should probably go back to my room," he said without moving even a centimeter.
"Probably a good idea."
"Let you sleep. Big day tomorrow."
"Really big day."
Neither of them moved even an inch. Their faces still close enough that she could feel his breath.
"Or," he said slowly, voice dropping lower, "I could stay a bit longer."
"That seems practical."
"Very practical and responsible."
