He's here, arms open, eyes starving the second he sees me.
And then I'm on him as he clutches me, like he couldn't wait to hold me.
"Hi, baby bird."
His lips brush mine in a soft kiss before he looks around, scanning for witnesses like a criminal—check—and his fingers pinch my cheeks under my dress.
"Ben!" I slap his wrist, even though I want more. "Manners."
"You walk out looking like this, and expect me to have manners?" he says with a raised brow. His fingers squeeze harder as I wriggle against him. "This dress has a five-minute life expectancy. Tops."
"No, no," I warn, jumping down, holding a hand up like a shield. "We are going to the beach. You promised."
His jaw works as his eyes drag up my legs, the weight of his gaze almost physical. Then a long, slow exhale. "Fine. Beach. But I'm walking behind you. No one else gets to see this."
I roll my eyes. "Possessive much?"
"Observant," he says, hand brushing at the small of my back, ushering me forward.
The second we're in the car, the streets melt around us. Music hums low through the speakers and the silver coastlineemerges. Then, once we get out of the city, pedal down and Ben weaves through the cars like a maniac.
He should probably hold the steering wheel with both hands, but his hand is where I want it—on my knee.
"Hope there's no cliff-jumping this time," he says, half-laughing.
"Don't make me angry and there won't be," I say coyly.
He laughs and makes it through the light at the last second, just as it turns red.
"I'll try, but one never knows with you. You're crazy."
"Uhum. And you aren't? You're going to get us a million tickets."
"Worth it if it means I get to spend more quality time with you." He shrugs and grins when he sees my eye roll. "How was your day?"
"Good." I nod. "Library. Coffee with Lu. Took a walk along the Marina. Missed you while doing it."
He brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it. "We'll take more walks soon. Once everything calms down."
I've heard that one before, so I let it be. Clear my throat instead. "Do you think Romeo and Juliet would've lasted? Like, if they hadn't died."
He cuts me a sidelong glance, half-amused, half-exasperated. "Where did that come from?"
I shrug, pretending it's casual. "I saw the book today and thought about it. It's the greatest love story of all time."
He hums, that skeptical kind with a stern look. "Depends."
"On?"
"On whether they figured out how to argue without threatening to die every time."
I snort. "Smartass. All the great loves end tragically. Maybe that's why they are great, because they never have to survive the real part."
He winces, shaking his head, obviously disliking the idea. "Books aren't real life. You know that, right?"
I shrug. "I mean, yeah, but heartbreak is the same whether it's on a printed page or in your DMs."
He whips his head to me and frowns. His voice comes out puzzled and a bit affronted. "What? What are we even talking about now, Emma?"
