“I remember.” I smiled, thinking about the night in college she lectured me about how much she hated surprise parties. The thought of them made her cry with anxiety. “I wanted to woo you.”
“There is a lot of woo going on right now, maybe not in the way you thought. Trust me.” She licked the side of her lip, her cheeks blushing in that pretty pink way. God, I wanted to know what was going on in her head.
“Mm, you’re blushing, Em.” I moved my free hand to cup the back of her head, tilting it up as I bent down.
I gave her every chance to pull away, even though every part of me hoped she wouldn’t. My thumb brushed under her ear, feeling the heat there, the way her pulse jumped when I touched her. She tipped her face up on her own, breath catching, and that tiny, deliberate choice caused my heart to squeeze.
“Come here,” I murmured, needing to kiss her.
When I kissed her, it wasn’t rushed or sharp. It was deep and full and careful, like I was trying to say everything I hadn’t figured out how to put into sentences yet. Her lips were warm and soft, parting under mine with a quiet sound that went straight to my chest. She leaned into me immediately, fingers tightening in mine like she needed the contact to stay upright, and I kissed her harder—not frantic, not hungry, just certain.
She tasted like tea and something sweet underneath, familiar and new all at once. I angled my head, deepening the kiss slowly, deliberately, letting it build instead of burn out. Her hand slid up my chest, resting right over my erratic heart, and I had to swallow against the rush of emotion that followed. Every kiss felt like a promise I fully intended to keep.
I broke away long enough to rest my forehead against hers, both of us breathing a little harder now. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen, glasses slightly crooked from where my nose had bumped them. She smiled like she was a little dizzy and happy about it.
“See?” I said softly. “Wooing.”
She laughed under her breath, then leaned in and kissed me again—shorter this time, sweeter, like punctuation instead of a declaration. When she pulled back, her eyes were bright and searching, and I knew if I kissed her again, I’d lose track of time entirely.
So I didn’t.
Instead, I squeezed her hand once and stepped back enough to reach behind the couch. I grabbed the box I’d tucked there earlier and brought it out between us, setting it on the table with a small, dramatic flourish I absolutely did not practice in the car.
Her eyes widened instantly.
“No,” she said, already smiling. “No way!”
I shrugged, trying—and failing—to look casual. “You laughed so hard at it in the shop I thought you were going to cry. Something about ‘dogs playing poker but emotionally available.’”
She pressed a hand to her chest, genuinely touched. “I said thatonetime.”
She laughed, shaking her head, and slid closer to the table, fingers already lifting the lid like she couldn’t help herself. “This was years ago, in college… Noah. How…?”
“I remember everything about you, Em,” I said quietly, watching her more than the puzzle. The way she leaned in. The way her shoulders relaxed. The way she looked like she was already home.
She glanced back at me, her smile soft and warm and filled with emotion.
I sat down beside her, knees brushing, and opened the box fully, spilling pieces across the table. As we started sorting edges from chaos, her shoulder leaned into mine without hesitation, easy and familiar. “Now, I figured we could work on this for a bit then maybe watch a movie?”
“Oh, my sweet Noah, once I start a puzzle I can’t stop. It might be a long night for us, my guy.”
21
EM
Iwasgiddy.It made no sense how sitting at a table doing a dog puzzle had my heart in silly little knots.
The box sat between us, dogs in tiny suits staring back like they were in on some joke. I still couldn’t believe Noah remembered me saying I liked this puzzle years ago. Every time Noah’s knee brushed mine under the table, my stomach flipped like I was sixteen again instead of a grown woman with a business and a complicated life. How many times had we touched or hugged or sat by each other in college?
Why was this so different?
“This is ridiculous,” I said, even as I slid one edge piece toward the corner. “I am having more fun than I’ve had on any date in years, and we’re… sorting cardboard dogs.”
Noah snorted softly, already separating pieces by color. “First of all, these are distinguished dogs. Second, you’re the one who laughed for five full minutes when you saw this puzzle in a store.”
“I laughed because it was absurd,” I defended, glancing up at him. “I mean, what dogs wear visors? Why are they wearing pants? Who invited everyone over? I think the bulldog is theboss, but then again it could be the scary chihuahua. I have so many questions. Like, are they holding cards between their little toe beans or what? See what I mean? Absurd.”
“Mmm,” he said, not looking convinced. “You laughed because you liked it, Em.”
