“There’s no way I’m not getting drenched in that,” Eden says as she glances out the living room window at the torrential rain falling from the sky.

  “Oh, you’re not leaving,” I tell her. “Not in this.” She parts her lips to argue when her phone rings. “Take it,” I tell her. She nods and answers.

  “Oh no,” she says. “Thank you, and thank you for the offer, but I’m all set.” She listens for a few more seconds. “Yes, that’s fine. We’ll reschedule,” she tells the caller, whom I can only assume is Carrie. “Love you, too. Bye.” She hangs up. “Well, that was Carrie. Their power went out, and they’re headed to Nick’s parents’ place. She offered for me to go with them, but I declined.”

  “Yes!” I pump my fist in the air.

  “What are you all excited about?” she asks, and there’s a hint of hurt in her eyes.

  “I get the birthday girl all to myself.”

  She smiles. “You fed me birthday cupcakes, and you took me out to lunch when I was supposed to be working,” she reminds me.

  “Yeah, but I didn’t give you your gift yet. I was waiting until the end of the day before you left. And it might not have been delivered until about thirty minutes ago,” I admit sheepishly.

  Her eyes light up, but she says, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  “I wanted to. Now, because of the weather, you’re stuck with me. I get to eat all three meals today with the birthday girl.” I wink at her. “Speaking of, what do you want for dinner?”

  “Anything, but this isn’t necessary.”

  “It’s happening, babe. We’re having dinner, more cupcakes, and you’re opening your gift. I’ll even let you pick the movie,” I tell her, and she smiles.

  She takes two steps toward me and offers me her hand. I take it without hesitation and allow her to pull me to the kitchen. “Whatever it is, let’s make it together,” she says, glancing at me from over her shoulder.

  She leads us to the pantry, and we step inside. On instinct, I pull her into my chest and rest my chin on her head. “Anything standing out to you?”

  She points to a boxed pizza kit on the second shelf. “Do you have cheese?”

  “I’m pretty sure, I do.” Reaching around her, I grab the box and back out of the pantry to check the refrigerator for cheese. “Success!” I say, holding up the bag of shredded mozzarella cheese.

  “Is it expired?” she asks, her tone light and teasing.

  “No. It’s not expired.” I stick my tongue out at her, and she laughs. Rushing toward her, I scoop her up, toss her over my shoulder, and carry her the short distance to the island before putting her down, and we’re both laughing. “You can supervise,” I tell her.

  “Oh, you know that means I get to boss you around, right?” she asks.

  I don’t know why I do it, but I place my hands on her thighs, and she widens them, allowing me to step close. “You know I’ll let you, right?” I ask, kissing the top of her nose. She giggles, and I want to bottle the sound.

  I don’t know how it happened, but since the first morning we shared breakfast together, we’ve grown closer with each passing day. So much so that I look forward to seeing her, and I miss her on the days when she’s not here.

  How did I let that happen?

  Honestly, I’m not sure, but I know the weekends are the worst. That’s my longest stretch without seeing her. It feels like she’s mine, and I know she’s not, but when she’s here, when we’re together, just the two of us, it feels like it.

  It might also have something to do with the fact that Landry told the guys, and they all want to meet my mystery girl. I’ve been blowing them off because that’s not what we are, but right now, in this moment, she sure as hell feels like she’s mine.

  I have to force myself to step away from her to start on dinner. “Want a beer?” I ask her.

  “I’d better not. I have to drive home.” She juts her bottom lip out in a pout.

  “Eden, babe, it’s supposed to be like this for hours. I’m not letting you drive home in this nasty-ass weather when I have a bed upstairs that’s waiting for you.”

  My bed, preferably, but I know she’ll take the guest room.

  “Besides, the birthday girl deserves a beer to celebrate her big day.”

  Her eyes soften, her shoulders relax, and she nods. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today. Spoiling me.”

  “Oh, I’m not done yet,” I remind her.

  “When’s your birthday?”

  “June eighth.”

  She nods and taps her temple with her index finger. “Got it. Payback and all that.”

  “Oh, no, I spoil you, not the other way around,” I argue.

  She shrugs. “That’s what you do for those who are important to you. I know how precious those relationships can be, and I can do it if I want,” she sasses.

  I chuckle. “Yeah, I guess you can.” I smile and ignore the rapid beat of my heart inside my chest because she said I’m important to her. It’s been a long damn time since a woman has thought of me, the man, not me, the football player, as important. What she doesn’t know is that she’s important to me, as well. She’s slipped past my defenses without me knowing, and now, she’s rooted there.

  She remains on the counter while I move around the kitchen, the quiet hum of the storm outside filling the pauses between us. Rain lashes against the windows, steady and relentless, like it’s determined to keep her here, whether she admits it or not.

  Should I be thanking Mother Nature?

  “You’re really okay with me staying?” she asks, softer now, more tentative, and I realize she’s yet to take a sip of the beer I handed her.

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”

  That eases something in her as she puts the bottle to her lips and takes a drink. She watches me for a moment, head tilted to the side. “I’ve never had a birthday like this. One where we celebrate all day long. It’s been nice. Thank you, Foster.”

  “Well,” I say, grabbing two plates from the cabinet, “it’s an entire day to celebrate you. It’s been pretty perfect if you ask me.”

  She laughs quietly. “You say that, but I know better.”

  “Do you?” I arch a brow.

  “Yeah,” she replies, eyes bright. “You’re just being nice.”

  She’s wrong. I mean, I am being nice, but I’m not making today a big deal because of me. It’s all for her. I set the plates down and meet her gaze, the moment stretching comfortably between us. Outside, the storm keeps raging, but in here, everything feels unhurried, like there’s nowhere else either of us needs to be right now.

  And that feels like more than enough.

  “I’m a nice guy,” I tell her, “but we needed to celebrate you. Birthdays have never been a big deal to me, but today, I wanted your day to be special.”

  “Foster,” she breathes, and I turn to look at her, my hands covered in pizza dough. “Any time spent with you is special.” She pauses for a beat, but quickly keeps talking before I can reply. “The universe must have known that I needed you.”

  “You needed me?” I ask, my throat tightening, and it feels like a fist is gripping my heart.

  She nods, suddenly shy, her gaze dropping to the counter between us. “Yeah,” she says softly. “You showed up when everything felt… routine. Boring. And then you make each day more exciting. You fixed the stagnancy of my life.” She laughs nervously.

  Moving to the sink, I wash my hands, then dry them on a towel, buying myself a second before answering. The words land heavier than I expect. I hadn’t meant to be anything more than company on a stormy day, a distraction, maybe. But the way she says it makes it sound like something steadier. Something earned.

  “I didn’t fix anything,” I say carefully. “I just like making you breakfast.” I wink. I’m invested in this woman, and that scares the shit out of me, so I downplay it all, thinking that will help keep these feelings locked tightly inside my chest.

  She looks up at that, really looks at me, and a small smile curves her mouth. “Sometimes that’s the fix.”

  “I knew my eggs were decent, but damn, babe, you’re giving me way too much credit,” I tease.

  The thunder rolls outside, closer this time, rattling the windows. She doesn’t flinch. Instead, she leans back on the counter, arms holding her up on each side, like she’s decided this is exactly where she’s supposed to be. I quickly finish making the pizza, before I slide it into the oven, the familiar routine grounding me.

  “I’m not great at big moments,” I admit. “I usually mess them up by trying too hard or not trying enough. By walking away,” I add before I can think better of it.

  Her laugh is quiet but warm. “Then this must be one of the good ones. Because it feels easy.” She leans forward, and this time, she’s the one reaching for me. She rests the palm of her hand against my cheek. “You stayed,” she says softly. “Or made me stay.” She smiles, and fuck me, I want to kiss her.

  She’s the first woman since my ex to make me think that. In fact, it’s been a while since Violet even crossed my mind. It’s been peaceful, and all because of this woman sitting on my kitchen island. The one I wasn’t looking for and never saw coming.

  It does feel easy. Time with Eden is not something I think I’ll ever want to rush, and that should scare me, but it doesn’t. That’s the surprising part. There’s no pressure to impress. No countdown clock ticking in my head. Just the hum of the oven, the rain against the window, and her sitting pretty on my island, smiling like she’s already unwrapped the best part of the day.

  I hold her gaze, and we share a smile. For a moment, it feels like the world has narrowed to this kitchen, this storm, this shared pause, and whatever comes next, even the unknown is exciting.

  “That was so good. Thank you,” Eden says as she stands to clear our plates.

  “What are you doing? It’s your birthday,” I remind her. Standing, I take the plates from her. “Sit your pretty ass down.” I kiss her cheek because I can’t help myself, and carry our plates to the sink and rinse them, before adding them to the dishwasher. I’m placing the leftover pizza in the fridge when the power goes out. “Well, damn,” I mutter.

  “Now what do we do?” she asks.

  “Stay there. I’ll grab a flashlight and matches. We’ll light some candles. Looks like you’re opening your gift to candlelight,” I tell her.

  “We can wait.”

  “Nope. I want to see you open it now.” Using the light on my phone, I go to the junk drawer, pull out some matches, and two flashlights. Turning on the flashlights, I hand one to Eden. “I’ll meet you in the living room,” I tell her, before using the other to light the way to my office to grab her gift.

  Once I return, I say, “Okay, I’m not much of a present wrapper.” I hold up the gift bag. “I’m a gift bag kind of guy.”

  She laughs. “Bags are perfect. Thank you for this, Foster. Truly. You’re the best. You’ve made today so special.”

  “You don’t even know what I got you yet,” I tease. Inside, I’m preening, knowing I made her feel important and put that smile on her face.

  “But you thought about me. That’s the best gift you could have given me.”

  Damn, this girl. “Open it.” I sit down next to her on the couch and shine my flashlight in her direction, careful not to blind her. “I’ll light some candles after, but for now, I can’t wait any longer.”

  She smiles as she reaches into the bag and pulls out a card. She opens the flap, pulls it out, reads it, and glances up at me. She holds up the gift card. “Thank you, Foster.”

  “There’s more. Keep digging,” I tell her.

  She nods, reaches into the bag, pulls out the box, and gasps. “Foster! You did not get me a Kindle!” She bounces in her seat and hugs the small box to her chest.

  “I know you have one, but you said it’s been acting up. I thought you could use the gift card to get a case, or books, or whatever,” I explain.

  “It’s perfect. It’s too much,” she says, pulling the box away from her chest and staring down at it in the dim lighting.

  “Impossible,” I tell her.

  “Thank you.” She puts the Kindle and her card back into the bag, then sets it on the floor before standing. She moves to stand in front of me, bends down, and hugs me. “Thank you,” she whispers again, and I can hear the emotion in her voice.

  We’ve both placed our flashlights on the couch, so I can’t see her face, but I can hear it. “Anything for you,” I tell her, sliding my hand behind her neck, letting touch guide my way. “Happy birthday, Eden. I hope it was everything you wanted.”

  “More, so much more. However,” she whispers, “there’s one thing I’ve never had on my birthday.”

  “My cupcakes?”

  “That, too.” She chuckles.

  “What do you want, Eden?”

  “A birthday kiss,” she whispers, her voice so low that it quickly disappears into the darkness.

  A kiss.

  She wants a kiss.

  My chest tightens, and I lick my lips.

  Does she have any idea how many times I’ve thought about kissing her?

  “Can I give you that?” I ask, my voice rougher than intended, thick with something I’m refusing to name.

  “Only you, Foster,” she breathes. “I’d only want a birthday kiss from you.”

  The air between us pulses, fragile and electric, raging just as fiercely as the storm outside. I hesitate, tracing the line of her jaw with my thumb. I wish I could see her mouth so that I could memorize the curve of her lips. Slowly, reverently, I lean in and press my lips to hers.

  My heart hammers against my ribs as I lean in closer, the air between us suddenly too thick to ignore. Her breath hitches, and she’s not close enough. I need her closer, so I pull her down onto my lap.

  “This okay?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Again,” she whispers, and suddenly the world outside this moment ceases to exist. There’s only her and me and the faint scent of her hair that makes my stomach twist in a good way.

  I move slowly, carefully, almost afraid to break the fragile bubble we’re suspended in. My hand hovers near her cheek, trembling slightly, and I wonder if she can feel how nervous I am. I’ve imagined this a hundred times, but now that it’s here, it’s nothing like I thought.

  The moment is sharper, softer, more electric.

  My breath catches as I lean in slowly, every nerve screaming, and my heart threatens to leap out of my chest. When our lips finally meet for the second time, it’s nothing like anything I’ve ever felt before. Her mouth is warm, hesitant at first, like testing the waters, and then deeper, more certain, like she’s been waiting for this.

  I’ve been waiting for this.

  Time collapses. The world fades to nothing but the faint press of her lips against mine, the quiet intake of her breath mingling with mine, and a dizzying rush of everything I’ve been feeling since meeting her, squeezing into a single moment. My heartbeat mimics the thunder rolling outside, each pulse echoing the longing I’ve tried so hard to ignore.

  I don’t pull back, even though I know that I should. My hands are trembling slightly, afraid that even the slightest movement might shatter this fragile perfection. But it’s an impossible feat now that I’ve tasted her. Every nerve in my body seems alive, hyperaware of her warmth, the gentle brush of her hair against my face, the faint scent that clings to her and refuses to leave me.

  I realize how easy it would be to lose myself in her completely. The thought alone sends a shiver down my spine, a mix of fear, guilt, and desire twisting in my stomach. And yet, the realization of how much I want her is staggering. Overwhelming, almost cruel in its intensity. I can feel the pull between reason and instinct. Each moment, each breath stretching into an eternity where nothing exists except her and the irresistible gravity of this connection.

  Fear hovers, terrified to let myself fall.

  Guilt from my past swirls in my gut.

  Desire for this beautiful woman is stronger than anything I’ve ever felt before.

  I know that pulling out of the kiss could save me from drowning in these feelings, but part of me—a deeper, wilder part—doesn’t want to be saved. All I want is this, this closeness, this impossible, intoxicating connection. Every inch of me aches to surrender, to let the world fall away completely.

  For once, I want to live in the moment without thinking about my mistakes. I want this small sliver of time where it’s just Eden and me, lost in one another.

  Finally, I pull back because my need to check that she’s still on the same page as me is stronger than anything else I’m feeling. “You still with me, birthday girl?” I ask.

  “More kissing. Less talking,” she says, pulling my lips back to hers.

  For the first time in a long time, I let myself forget everything else and just exist.

  With her.

  Chapter Twelve

  Eden

  * * *

  I’ve never been kissed like this.

  Foster’s lips pressed to mine make me feel steady. Grounded in a way I’ve never felt before. In this moment, we’re not rushing toward anything. We just exist with one another.

  Everything around us seems to be quiet, as if the world has decided to give us space. I can no longer hear the storm raging outside, just the rhythm of my thunderous heartbeat and our breathing.

  That’s all I hear.

  Just the two of us.

  It feels like I’m standing somewhere familiar and realizing I belong there. There is no urgency, no pressure, just him.

  Us.

  Not only does this moment feel important, but I feel like I matter to this man. The way his palm cradles my cheek, the soft caress of his tongue against mine.

  I feel recognized. Seen. Cherished.

  All the emotions I’ve never felt at the same time. I’ve never allowed myself to be this close. Sure, there have been kisses and some fooling around, but this, this kiss feels more intimate than any other experience before it.

  What surprises me the most is how safe I feel with his arms wrapped around me. I don’t feel fragile or uncertain. I feel solid. As if this moment shared between us is a promise of our future, a chance for us to rewrite the past. It doesn’t matter how we got here, only that we’re here together.