Sarah was smiling. Actually smiling. It had been a while since I’d seen her look happy, or carefree, and I had to admit it…if that had anything to do with me, then I was going to smile, too. She’d balked at the idea of going out with me and my friends, but in the end, we’d all gotten along splendidly, just as I’d suspected we would. After all, Sarah was incredible.

Just as amazing as my friends.

There was no denying that there were feelings still there between us—real, undeniable, strong ones. But in our current situation, no matter how much I might wish it were different, I wasn’t free to pursue those feelings. The punishment wasn’t worth the risk. I wouldn’t be the reason Sarah Lopez lost her job…

Or her ability to care for her mother.

She unlocked the door and smiled over her shoulder at me. Her brown hair fell in soft waves down her back, and she had on one of those skirts that hugged her ass and begged for me to—no, I was going to stop that thought right there. Nothing about her body begged for me to do anything. “Guess what?”

I snapped out of my thoughts. “What?”

“I had fun tonight. Thanks for insisting I go out. It’s been a while since I hung out with a group of friends like that.”

“How long?” I asked out of curiosity, holding the screen door open for her.

“Since before Vinnie. He didn’t like me going out…or having friends.”

I swallowed hard. “Asshole.”

“Yeah.” She walked inside, and I followed her. “Being home, with you, it’s brought out a side of me that I thought had died. The kind that actually knows how to socialize, and laugh…”

I closed the door and forced my hands to stay at my side, even though my fingers itched to reach out and touch her soft cheek. To comfort her. “I’m sorry that happened to you, and even sorrier I wasn’t there to help.”

“I left you, remember?” she said quietly. “If I hadn’t—”

“Don’t go there.”

She bit her lower lip. “How can I not?”

“Sarah…” I said, stepping closer to her, my arm outstretched.

Someone cleared their throat behind us, and she jumped slightly.

My hand dropped back to my side where it belonged.

“How was dinner?” Grace asked, watching us with an expressionless expression.

“Great,” Sarah said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How’s Mom?”

“She’s still awake. She told me she was waiting up for the ‘male nurse who sings and knits’ to come in.” Grace glanced at me. “I’m assuming that’s you?”

“Y-Yeah,” I said slowly.

“She remembers him?”

I knew immediately what she was thinking.

Her own mother had forgotten her, but she remembered some guy who visited her the other morning and never came back in? Little did she know, though, I had. I’d made a habit of visiting Mrs. Lopez every day. She liked when I knitted her hats, and sang Ed Sheeran songs to her, so I did it daily. My voice calmed her, and she often fell asleep while I sang. It seemed like it was the least I could do while living under Sarah’s roof.

“Apparently,” Grace said.

Sarah swallowed.

Something twisted in my chest. “Sarah—”

“It’s fine. It’s good. I’m happy she likes you.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you mind—?”

“Of course not,” I said immediately. “I’ll go in now.”

She caught my hand as I passed. “Ben?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand. “Nothing to thank me for, Sar.”

She let me go, and I made my way back to her mom’s room, my heart pounding hard for more reasons than one. I hadn’t called her by her nickname since we’d been together, and it had felt…right. I hadn’t really known where we might go after we took care of this whole ex-boyfriend thing, but I had a vision in my head now—and it didn’t include us being platonic partners. After we put that asshole behind bars where he belonged?

It would be time to get my girl back.

If I had to leave my father’s precinct to make it happen, then so be it. I’d lived a life without Sarah, and I’d lived a life with her at my side, and I could tell you, without a doubt, that I preferred the latter. If she felt the same way as me, I’d do anything, sacrifice anything, to have her again.

Walking into the room, I pasted a smile on. “Mrs. Lopez. You shouldn’t have waited up for me. It’s late.”

“Not too late for me,” she said, smiling at me. She fumbled in her lap for her knitting, which was where it always was, and handed it off to me. “Do you mind?”

She sounded so much like her daughter in that moment that it physically hurt. “Of course not.”

“You started a new one?”

She flushed. “I did. Pink this time. Sarah loves pink.”

Sarah hated pink. “Yes, she does.”

Sarah slid inside the room, arching a brow at me. I knew what she asked. She wanted to know if it was okay if she stayed. I never sang in front of her before, and to be honest, that made me a little nervous, but at the same time, it felt like something she should see. Her mother at ease like this. I nodded at her, then focused on her mother, pretending she wasn’t there.

It was best that way.

“Did you bind off the other hat?” I asked.

“I did.” She smiled. “It’s there.”

She motioned to the right. There was a pile of baby hats. I wondered idly what Sarah did with them all. “Nice.”

“Sing to me?” She yawned, covering her mouth. Despite her bravado, it was late, and she was tired. By the end of the song, she’d more than likely be asleep.

“Any requests?” I asked teasingly, knitting.

“The one about him loving the girl till they’re old.”

That could be a handful of Ed Sheeran songs, but I went with the one that fit best. Swallowing hard, I glanced at Sarah, who leaned against the corner watching me, and then focused on her mother again. She’s not there. Not listening.

I sang to Mrs. Lopez, keeping my voice pleasantly low, working my way through the whole song. Her eyes started to drift shut, so I started over, knowing from experience if I changed songs it would jar her awake. As her breathing evened out, and her face relaxed, I tucked her in, knowing she was sound asleep and would remain that way for the evening.

Then, and only then, I glanced at Sarah.

She watched me, her hand pressed to her mouth, tears running down her cheeks. She looked so beautiful standing there, overcome with emotion, and try as I might, I couldn’t break eye contact. I continued singing, but at some point, my song stopped being for her mother, and became a song for her. A promise to the girl I used to love, and the woman she’d become.

Setting the knitting aside, I crossed the room, singing the last words as I closed the distance between us. As I finished, she took a shuddering breath, dropping her hand from her mouth. Trembling, she offered it to me, and I took it without hesitation. She led me out in the hallway, and I quietly closed the door behind us. All the lights in the house were off, so I could only assume we were alone. “Grace?” I asked.

“Gone,” she said. We stood in the hallway, silence and darkness surrounding us. “Do you do that often? Sing her to sleep?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

I nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see me. “Yes. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” A brief silence. “And the knitting?”

“Yeah, that, too.”

“I donate the hats to Somerton Hospital. They give them to babies and sick kids…” She shifted closer to me. I couldn’t see her, but I could sense it. “She just keeps knitting them for no one.”

“Not no one.” I reached through the darkness, searching out and finding her cheek. “You.”

“Baby me. Not me.” She swallowed and leaned into my hand. “She likes you.”

“I like her, too.”

Silence, and then: “I like you.”

“I…” My heart sped up and I flexed my jaw. “I like you, too.”

Without warning, she closed the distance between us, rose on her tiptoes, and pressed her mouth to mine. I knew I should stop. Knew this was bad. Yet…I could no sooner stop breathing.

Gripping her hips, I kissed her back, my heart thudding against my ribs. Something broke through my subconscious—a bang, or a creak of the house—and I jerked away. “Sarah—”

“I know we shouldn’t, and I know we can’t be together, but seeing you with my mom like that…” She swallowed and tightened her grip on me. “I don’t care anymore. About any of it. Right here, right now, in the dark… I need you, Ben. I have made a habit to not need anyone, to never need anyone again, but I’m telling you… I need you.”