Page 14 of The Banshee’s Unmistakable Love

So many things I want to do with him that I have never wanted to do with anyone else. And thankfully, we have forever to do all of them.

Though I don’t think I want to wait that long…

There’s a knock at my apartment door, my heart skipping a beat. Zander is here. I take a quick glance around, making sure everything is in order before he comes in.

This will be the first time he’s at my place—the first time anyone besides my family is here, actually.

My palm is warm as it grips the doorknob, pulling it open in a much too brisk fashion. Zander stands there, smiling down at me, his cheeks already deep red.

“Hi,” I say nervously, though I know I have no reason to be. “Come in. How was your day?”

He enters, taking off his jacket and hanging it on my coat rack as if he’s been here a hundred times. “It was good, but it’s even better now that I get to see you. I do have one pressing matter to address first, though.”

“What’s that?” My palms break into a sweat where they’re clasped together in front of me, my fingers already picking at any dry skin.

He takes my hands, separating them and cradling them. “I need your email.”

I blink up at him, the nerves washing away as a tide of amusement comes in. “My email?”

“Yes.” He nods, his gaze rather serious. “For something I was working on last night after we left the fall fair.

I nod along with him, and he releases my hands. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, handing it to me. The screen is on already, the keypad opened so I can type in my email. Off the top of my head, I don’t recognize the background that’s dimmed by the open text slot.

What could he possibly need my email for?

When I’m finished typing it in, I pass him his phone back. “What do you need it for?”

He gives me a grin, pressing something on the screen. My phone, which is across the room on my coffee table, buzzes. I look between it and him, and he tilts his head toward my phone.

“I shared something with you—open it.” He beams, looking wildly excited with hints of his own nerves showing in the sparkle of his eyes and the blush in his cheeks.

It’s hard to hide my excitement as I practically skip over to the coffee table, picking up my phone. The screen lights up when I turn it over, showing the notification.

“You shared a Google Doc with me?” I giggle, clicking the notification to open it.

The app opens on my phone, loading the document over the course of a few seconds. Instantly, my heart beats faster and my eyes well up. The document is titled Things to Experience with my Love.

He’s created a Google Doc for us, containing all the things he wants to experience with me? Could he be any sweeter?

“I figured we could both add to it. I already put in some ideas to start.” He beams at me with his perfect teeth. “It’s categorized.”

It’s categorized?

The warmth in my heart spreads through me, traveling down between my thighs. Even the tips of my ears feel hot; I wonder if they’re reddening like my cheeks.

Focusing on the phone—and not everything else that begs to consume my mind—I scroll through the document. He has sections titled and bolded, bullet-point lists below. Some things on the list even have cute little comments in brackets next to them.

The categories he has right now are divided into: places to see, activities, anything food, at-home date nights. He’s put so much thought into this, so much effort.

I think I’m falling in love all over again, this time as an adult instead of a nervous preteen. Still nervous, though.

“Zander…” His name floats out on a breath, and I shake my head as I scroll the rest of the document. “This is so sweet, and so useful. I love it. I love you.”

He cups my face, tilting it up toward his. I lower the phone to my side as he dips his head down, lips catching mine. My heart races, my free hand gripping his forearm to hold him close.

It feels like the first kiss all over again, fireworks erupting around the room. Around us. Between us.

With little thought, I toss my phone backward, aiming for where I think the couch is. There’s a faint thud, confirming it didn’t bounce to the floor—or just get tossed to the floor—and I slide my hand along his waist.