The words slip out before I can catch them, loaded with all the history we're trying to navigate. But instead of pulling away, Ivy moves closer.
She leans in, snowflakes catching in her lashes, and my heart hammers against my ribs. I stay still, hardly daring to move as she rises on her toes, giving me every chance to pull away.
But I couldn't move if I tried. Not with her this close, not with her breath warming the space between us. When her lips finallymeet mine, soft and unsure, everything inside me goes quiet. Like the world's been muted, wrapped in snow and stillness, and this moment I've dreamed about for months.
The kiss is soft, and nothing like our heated moments we've shared before. My hands find her waist, drawing her closer until she's pressed against me, and she lets out a tiny gasp.
When her hand slides up to curl around the back of my neck, something inside me fractures. The warmth of her touch shoots down my spine, and I can't stop myself from deepening the kiss enough to trace her bottom lip with my tongue, catching the way her body trembles against mine.
She responds instantly, pressing closer, mouth parting beneath mine as her fingers slide into my hair, tightening just enough to make my pulse stutter.
Heat rushes through me, wiping out every last good intention. I back her against the porch railing, one hand diving into the silk of her hair while the other finds her hip and pulls her flush to me. She moans into my mouth, low and breathless, and when she gives the slightest tug, my restraint slips dangerously close to the edge.
But no.
Not like this.
Not rushed and desperate in the snow, no matter how much I want to keep kissing her until we both forget how to breathe.
I pull back, resting my forehead against hers. Her eyes stay closed, cheeks flushed pink. My pulse is frantic, and my whole body is begging me to close the distance and kiss her again.
"I need this," I whisper, watching those impossible blue eyes flutter open. "God, I needyou. But I want to do it right this time. Take you out first. Start the way we should've."
"Maybe youhavechanged." Her smile is small, but real.
"Then give me the chance to show you." I brush a snowflake from her cheek, heart in my throat. "Let me be the manyou deserve."
"Okay." She steps back, but her eyes are soft. "Come on, I'll drive you home. Show me this mysterious new place of yours."
"You sure? It's still snowing."
"I think I can handle it." She's already heading for the car. "Though if you make one more comment about my driving . . ."
"Wouldn't dream of it." I follow her, pausing to wave at our duck children. "Be good for your mom!"
The drive to my place is quiet, but it's a comfortable silence. Ivy still drives like she's expecting black ice around every corner, but I keep my comments to myself, too happy with how the night's turned out to risk ruining it.
When she pulls up to my building—after three attempts at parallel parking that I definitely don't laugh at—I turn to face her.
"Saturday?" I ask, trying not to sound too eager.
"Saturday." She nods, and before I can overthink it, I lean in.
This kiss is different. Sweet, soft, and full of promise. When I pull back, her eyes are still closed.
"See you then," I murmur, forcing myself to reach for the door handle before I forget all my good intentions about doing things right.
"It's a date," she calls as I step out into the snow.
I can't stop pacing.
The hardwood floor groans beneath my boots as I make another circuit around my living room, pausing to adjust my necklaces and rings in the mirror. Salem stares from his perch, tail twitching with judgment.
"Don't look at me that way." I smooth my sweater for what has to be the hundredth pass. "I'm allowed to be nervous."
The last few days have been disorienting. Caleb's been everywhere—swinging by the shop with hot chocolate that's somehow always the perfect temperature, blowing up my phone with memes, leaving voicemails that make me laugh until my stomach aches. It's all so familiar it hurts.
But there's a shift I can't ignore. He's present in a way he never was before. Focused, grounded, fully here. No longer drifting around the edges of my life, but stepping into the center of it, and finally choosing to stay.
