“Good,” I murmur.
She tilts her head slightly, studying me.
“You know what I saw?” she says.
“What?”
“A man who doesn’t freeze when someone crosses a line.”
That hits deeper than the punch ever did.
“I don’t want to be that guy,” I say quietly. “The one who escalates everything.”
“You’re not,” she replies. “You’re the one who protects.”
The word lands heavy and warm in my chest.
She steps closer again, lowering her voice.
“Never have I ever brought a man to my new home.”
My brows lift. “Your home.”
“My actual house,” she clarifies, though the small smile on her lips suggests she enjoys my reaction. “You didn’t think I was going to let our date end in a holding cell, did you?”
I can’t help it — I grin.
“I like the sound of that,” I admit.
“Good.”
She reaches for my hand.
“Come on.”
The early morning air hits cool and crisp as we step outside.
The sky is starting to pale at the edges, dark blue melting toward pink. The chaos of the night feels distant out here, softened by sunrise.
I glance around, expecting her car.
Instead, I see a bike.
Not just any bicycle on two wheels.
It’s a tandem bike.
I gape at it.
She follows my gaze, biting back a smile.
I shake my head. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m absolutely not.”
It’s parked neatly by the curb, two helmets resting on the handlebars.
“You planned this?” I ask.
