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I follow her.

The room smells faintly of lavender. Moonlight spills across her bed, illuminating the pale pink sheets and the ridiculous collection of pillows arranged against the headboard.

She climbs onto the mattress and pats the space beside her.

“Come here.”

I obey.

The bed protests beneath my weight.

Wren giggles.

“If you break that, you’re buying me a new one too.”

“I am accumulating considerable debt.”

“Welcome to dating.”

I turn toward her.

“Is that what we are doing?”

Her smile falters.

“I don’t know.”

“Then we need not name it.”

She studies me.

“You really don’t mind?”

“I mind many things, little flower.”

“Such as?”

“Your former lover. The fragility of your furniture. The fact that you insist on putting yourself in danger.”

She raises an eyebrow.

I brush a curl from her cheek.

“But I do not mind waiting for you.”

Her gaze drops to my mouth.

“Good.”

Then she kisses me.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

I have kissed her before, but this is different.

There is no shop bell waiting to interrupt us.