My thumbs move before my brain catches up.
Colt: Thought this was casual?
A beat.
Elena: I’m just saying…you can come by if you want.
I freeze staring at my phones and Mom smirks.
“Well?” she whispers dramatically. “GO.”
I stand so fast I almost knock over her knitting.
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too. Put on a clean shirt and bring her something nice.”
I kiss her forehead.
Grab my hoodie.
Head out the door with my pulse in my throat.
In the grocery store I wander aimlessly for five minutes before grabbing everything I know she’ll like.
• Fresh pasta
• Real parmesan
• Tomatoes
• Basil
• Dark chocolate
I don’t even realize I bought flowers until I’m in line with them.
Not casual behavior, Evans.
Too late now.
I arrive to her apartment at eight oh three.
I only knock once, and the door opens.
And I forget how to breathe.
Elena stands there in lingerie—not tacky, not flashy, just… elegant, soft, deadly.
A robe slips off one shoulder, framing her like a painting.
Her eyes widen when she sees me holding groceries.
“You’re serious,” she whispers.
I swallow, hard.
“Yeah. Can I—uh—cook?”
