The thought has me standing straighter and the movement catches Elise's attention. One minute she's laughing with her best friend then the next, she's smiling from ear to ear as she breaks out into a run, erasing the distance between us.
"What are you doing here?" She asked as I set her back down on her feet.
I tilted my head in response. "Try again."
She rolled her eyes, but her body betrayed her as she moved in closer, rising onto her toes. When her lips met mine, I caught her at the nape of her neck, pulling her in, a low sound leaving me at the familiar taste of mangoes and something sweeter.
"I thought you'd still be at the office." Elise says, when I finally pulled back to let her breathe.
"I had somewhere more important I had to be."
"Which is?"
"With you."
Elise softened at my words, her lips curving into that slow, knowing smile before her eyes dropped to the bouquet of tulips.
“You brought me flowers?” she asked, voice soft, a little breathless.
I shrugged, though my thumb brushed along her jaw, tilting her face up slightly. “Since I can't leave them on your desk, I thought I'd give them to you in person."
"Thank you. They're beautiful." She kissed me quickly before accepting the bouquet.
Kelsey clears her throat loudly behind Elise. Her eyes flicked between us, lingering on the flowers, then the way my arm is still firmly around Elise’s waist. “Sorry to interrupt.” She stepped closer and nudged Elise’s arm. “I guess we’re gonna have to takea raincheck on pizza and wine sincesomeonedecided to be the perfect boyfriend.” She looked pointedly at me.
Elise giggled softly, embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was coming.”
“It’s fine,” Kelsey shrugged, already backing away. “Alessia and I will survive one night without carbs and gossip.”
Elise gave her an apologetic smile. “Next week?”
“Definitely.” Kelsey winked before pointing a finger at the two of us. “And I know what y’all are about to get into,” she said, giving us a look. “My girl’s already sore, so don’t overdo it. If she’s limping tomorrow, I’m blaming you.”
Elise’s face heats instantly. “Kelsey!”
I smirked, tightening my hold on Elise just a fraction. “No promises.”
Kelsey laughed, turning toward her car. “Have fun, lovebirds. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She stops, glances back over her shoulder, and amends, “Actually—do. Just be responsible.”
And with that, she’s gone, leaving Elise shaking her head, still smiling, flowers clutched to her chest as she looked up at me.
“Are you ready to go?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Let’s get out of here.” I reached for her free hand, lacing our fingers together. “Where to?”
She pretends to think about it, tapping her chin. “Somewhere with food. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere that doesn’t involve spreadsheets or choreography mirrors.”
“I know the perfect place,” I said, opening the passenger door for her. I waited until she was settled in before closing her door.
The drive back to my place is routine. Comfortable in a way I am still getting used to. Elise talks the whole time, hands moving as much as they can from the passenger seat, telling me aboutrehearsals for Kelsey’s upcoming award show performance, about missed counts, sore calves, the moment where everyone nailed the routine at once and the room erupted like they had just won something. I listened, filling in details where I can, asking questions because I want to know, because her world matters to me.
When she finally paused for breath, she nudged my arm. “Okay. Your turn. How was your day?”
I told her about meetings that ran long, about an artist who refuses to stick to a deadline, and about the board call that should have been an email.
By the time we pull into my building’s garage, it feels less like I am coming home and more like we are.
Inside, she kicked off her shoes by the door without thinking. They land next to a pair of sandals she left here last week. And the week before that. There is a rhythm to it now. Her clothes in my drawers. Her skincare lining my sink. Her body next to mine every night. Neither of us has said the word move in, but the truth lives in the quiet details.
