I dump the rest down the drain. “I’ll be fine,” I reply. Seeing Lily will give me all the energy I need.
I climb the steps of Lily’s tower and hear orchestral music coming from her room, just like that night when we lay on the floor and I had my first real experience with classical music.
I knock on the door, but the music is too loud for her to hear, so I just press the hidden button and open it.
Lily is baking in the kitchen, and her eyes light up as soon as she sees me. “Ryder!” She places her bowl on the counter, wipes her hands on the apron around her waist, and runs to me.
I catch her as she launches herself at me, the smile on my face matching the one on hers, and greet her with a kiss.
She pulls away after a minute and sighs. “I love that I can do that now.”
I smirk. “Yeah, me too.” I nod my head toward the kitchen. “What are you making?”
“Only your favorite. More sourdough.”
I groan. “You spoil me.”
She pulls me by the hand toward the kitchen, then taps her phone to turn off the music. “Don’t get too excited. I’m just making the dough this morning. So you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to eat it.”
“Lame.”
She rolls her eyes and drops my hand. She wets her hands in the sink and starts digging into the dough. “I just have to stretch and fold it for the next few hours, and then it’ll be ready to rise.” She pulls the dough around the edges and folds it over, then covers it with a towel.
“Now what?” I ask.
She leans her hip against the counter and grins. “Now we wait another hour until it’s time to stretch and fold again.”
“And whatever will we do with that time?” I ask, a suggestive tone in my voice.
She taps her chin and looks up at the ceiling. “Hmm,” she muses. Her eyes light up. “I know! I have an essay I need to write.” She rushes over to her computer at the kitchen table.
“That’s not what I meant,” I mutter.
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” She sits in her chair and opens her laptop, but I scoop her up out of her chair, sit down first, then set her on my lap. She giggles and leans her back against my chest, and I press a kiss to the top of her head.
She opens her assignment and reads it to me, but I can’t concentrate when I have her citrus-scented hair next to my face, holding her body against mine.
“See? This is the perfect essay for you to help with.” She turns her head to look at me, but I haven’t been looking at the screen at all.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little distracted.”
She taps my nose. “Fine. I just thought you’d love to share your opinions on your favorite book-to-movie adaptation and why it’sThe Count of Monte Cristo.”
I glance at the screen and realize that’s the prompt—an essay describing your favorite movie adaptation of a book, along with criticisms of why others might not enjoy it. “Oh, well now that you mention it…” I lift her off my lap and set her on her own seat, then open her word processor and begin typing.
“Ryder!” She shoves my hands off the keys and laughs, the sound like music. I pull her back onto my lap and lean into her. This time, I linger, breathing her in, before bringing my lips to hers.
Last night, I kissed her with all the fire I’ve been holding back for weeks. But this morning, I take my time. I brush my mouth against hers once, twice, three times before pressing against her soft lips for a proper kiss.
She melts into me, and I revel in the feel of her against me. All I want is to keep her safe, shielding her from her past hurts, but giving her the chance to experience everything the world has to offer. Because she can bring so much light to this world.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, disrupting our moment.
Lily pulls back. “Want to check that?”
“Not really,” I grumble. “But I should.” I pull the phone out of my pocket, seeing an unknown number. “Probably a telemarketer.” I pocket my phone and am about to kiss her again when Agatha bursts into the room.
“Oh, my! I’m sorry for the interruption,” she says loudly, stepping over the two of us and into the kitchen.
