“And what about in between?” I whisper.
His mouth curves, that spark I love coming back to life.
“I’ll feed you, watch game shows with you, show up at margarita night to drive you home, take you fishing, go skinny dipping…” His voice drops, eyes darkening just a touch. “Steal kisses whenever I want and play one-on-one anytime you think you can beat me.”
My lips brush his as I smile. “You’re very confident.”
“I have to be,” he murmurs.
He lifts the key again, holding it between us, his fingers steady even if the rest of him isn’t.
“Take it.”
I study him—this man who challenged me at every turn in the beginning, who trusted me, who broke me open, walked away, and found his way back with something stronger.
“Hmm…” I take the key, pressing it lightly to my lips. “This sounds like a very good arrangement for me.” I glance down at it, turning it between my fingers. “Why is it purple?”
His grin turns almost boyish.
“Because the first day I met you in college, you were wearing a purple t-shirt,” he says. Then, softer, more intimate, “And the first time we were together… you were wearing purple.”
My breath catches.
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything about you.”
The world tilts just slightly.
He watches me, something uncertain slipping through for the first time.
“So… are you going to keep me waiting?” he asks. “Will you move in?”
I don’t hesitate.
I jump—skates and all—wrapping myself around him, laughter breaking free.
“Yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
His arms whip around me, like he was ready for it.
“You will?” he asks, almost disbelieving.
I pull back just enough to look at him.
“Did you honestly think I’d say no?”
Something in his expression softens—relief, maybe even a little disbelief.
“I didn’t know,” he admits quietly. “With everything… Mila, the new charges, everything coming back—I thought maybe I waited too long to show you I was still here.” His thumb brushes along my cheek. “That I want to be here for you.”
My heart swells.
“Then don’t wait anymore,” I whisper.
I press the key into my palm, grounding myself in the weight of its meaning.
He guides me up against the board, his hands skating over my face. “No more waiting, no more second-guessing our feelings.”
