“It is,” I say, grinning despite myself. “So prepare yourself.”
He gestures theatrically, as if to say,lay it on me.
“We’re about to walk into chaos,” I say, and he smiles fondly. “We have a few hours until then. Can we not focus on this right now? We can’t change the past, but we can enjoy this moment right now.”
Steven lets out a slow breath, accepting this. “Alright, what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe play a game?” I say loudly, and the boys perk up in their seats.
“A game?” he repeats, amused now.
“I wanna play!” Sawyer shouts from the backseat,The Little Blue Enginebook forgotten.
Steven chuckles. “Alright. Let’s play a game.”
I sink back into my seat and grab my Kindle as Steven and the boys begin playing the rainbow car game. After a few rounds of red, yellow, and blue spotting, Steven leans over and pinches my hip.
“I see what you did there,” he murmurs.
“What are you talking about?” I muse, and he chuckles.
Steven has always been a focused man, avoiding distractions at all costs if he can. But right now, he needs it. He needs a few hours of childlike play before he’s hit with reality. I can’t prepare him for what’s to come, so if playing the rainbow car game can distract him fromhisdistractions,then so be it. I point out a green BMW, and he smirks, looking grateful.
We stop for gas an hour later. The boys are buried in their tablets for the final stretch of the drive, and Josie is content with a crinkle toy, happily fed. I walk out with a coffee for Steven. He takes one sip and moans. It’s a low, indulgent sound that sends a warm, addictive pulse straight through me.
“You’re the best,” he declares, dragging out the words as he takes another slow sip. His throat bobs, and I can’t resist it. My fingers trail along his collarbone, up the warm column of his neck, to the rough line of stubble on his jaw. With the cup still pressed to his lips, his eyes darken, and he grabs my waist, tugging me impossibly close.
“You can’t do that,” he growls, lips brushing my ear.
“What are you talking about?” I whisper, sliding my arm around his waist. It feels almost ridiculous how natural this kind of touch has become between us again. I’m never this bold with Present-day Steven—not lately, anyway. The thought of putting myself out there for him made me feel exposed…embarrassed, even. As if showing my desire would break whatever rigid routine we’d boxed ourselves into.
But now, with the handsy, lovestruck Steven of fifteen years ago, I feel bolder. Like his younger self grants me permission to be the younger version of myself too.
“We’re in public,” he says, kissing my neck.
“I just brought you coffee,” I say innocently.
Then he chugs the coffee and tosses the cup into the trash without breaking eye contact. His heated gaze devours me, as if we’re completely alone and not standing in front of a QuikTrip. Then both of his hands slide around my waist, pulling me close. His body presses into mine, heart hammering against my chest,stomach taut beneath me. I go hot and weak in his arms as he kisses me. It’s deep and hungry yet still restrained.
“Can I say something crazy?” he asks between kisses.
“I love crazy,” I say, and he rolls his eyes.
“I’m crazy about you,” he says against my mouth. And I believe him. I let the words wrap around me, suddenly feeling weightless as he kisses me one final time.
“What were you guys doing?” Easton asks once we’re back in the car. He eyes us suspiciously, and we both wince like we’ve been caught.
“Hugging and kissing,” Steven says proudly.
“Gross.”
“Why do you have to do that?” Sawyer asks, visibly grossed out.
“Because your mom is amazing,” Steven tells them then turns to me and my cheeks heat under his gaze. “I don’t want her to forget it.”
“But you haven’t been doing that.” Easton frowns, as if he’s not fully understanding everything. And he’s right, even I’m not fully understanding the feelings I’m having toward Steven right now. Are they new? Are they old?
Steven clears his throat and shifts in his seat then bravely asks him, “Does it bother you that I do it now?”
