The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set

Willow rolled her eyes. “We’ve been over this, freak.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guess that’s a no.”

“We’ve swapped spit—and other bodily fluids—lots of times. I promise we’re going to survive sharing a spoon. Plus,” she said, holding up a finger, “we aren’t really going to be eating off the spoon.”

“We aren’t?”

Grinning, she shook her head. “I have a different idea.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

She wished she would’ve had time to change into something sexier than her work clothes before coming over, but if all went according to plan, she wouldn’t even be wearing any soon. With that end in mind, she took his free hand and tugged him toward the hallway.

By the time she pushed open the bedroom door, he said, “I think I might have an idea where you’re going with this.”

“Excellent work, detective,” she teased, releasing his hand and taking a seat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her hands.

Placing the bowl of frozen yogurt on the bedside table, Ethan climbed on the bed himself, climbing up her body to kiss her in a slow prowl.

Willow sighed, resting her hands on his shoulders and closing her eyes as he kissed her, his fingers dropping down her neck to unbutton the top of her black button-down.

“I’ve missed you,” she murmured between kisses.

“Me too,” he told her, nuzzling into her neck and dropping kisses there.

“Like, a lot. I know it’s severely uncool to admit that, but…”

“I don’t think you could be uncool if you tried,” he told her, laughing lightly and nipping her earlobe.

Groaning, she said, “Okay, enough talk, Detective Wilde.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.

Her shirt was half undone, the bright pink bra she wore beneath peeking out and teasing him.

Willow nodded slightly, then jerked her head in the direction of the frozen yogurt. “Let’s have dessert.”

Ethan grinned. “Let’s.”

---

After all the fun with the frozen yogurt, and then all of the fun with the post-froyo shower, Willow lay nestled up in the crook of Ethan’s arm, completely sated, yet somehow still craving him. It wasn’t just the sex she craved, but the nearness. The security.

Things she would never feel—with him, at least—if she went to New York.

She still hadn’t told him about it. Enough time had passed that it felt weird she hadn’t told him, but it wasn’t a conversation to have on the phone or via text.

“So, we haven’t really had a chance to talk the past few days,” she murmured.

“I know. Stupid work,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on her temple.

“Something kind of weird happened,” she told him.

His dark brows furrowed together in concern. “Weird how?”

“Not bad weird,” she assured him, turning her head so she could look up at him. “More… unexpected weird.”

His brow smoothed out and he smirked. “Like frozen yogurt in bed weird? We can do that again anytime you’d like, by the way.”