I’m lugging a couple of plastic bins to the open mouth of the U-Haul. They contain shoes. Just shoes. A lot of them. Delaney scoots up beside me carrying a bin of her own, her blonde ponytail swinging like a little girl’s. “I’m wondering...was this in the contract?” she asks, tilting her head.

“Nope. But boyfriends help girlfriends move.”

A pink glow lights up her face. She likes that answer. Maybe I shouldn’t have said it quite like that, but it felt like the right thing to say. It seems like things feel right in general, being around her.

“Hey,” I bend down to make a wise-ass comment. “I’m thinking you might have wanted to rent a separate U-Haul for your footwear.”

“It’s a good thing we’re not really dating, or else you’d probably be pretty freaked out right now.” She gives me a smile so sweet it makes my gut clench.

We’ve got her almost completely out of her apartment. Moving usually ranks right up there with root canals, but this has been fun today—Madeline is here helping, along with Jack, who seems like a great guy, and from the way he looks at his girlfriend, it’s clear he’s totally devoted. Delaney has said she loves them together, and I can see why. It’s the way a relationship should be.

I pass Jack on the way back into the apartment. He’s grinning. “What’d you think of the shoes, man?”

So he and I are on the same page. I shake my head and chuckle. “A pair for every day of the year.”

“Yep. Callaway’s just the same.”

“Hey, I heard you’re going to be renovating the café?”

He nods. “I’m starting tomorrow. The building’s pretty much empty, so it’s basically working with a blank slate, which I like. Shouldn’t be a problem to get it ready by Memorial Day for the opening.”

“Great. I wanted to tell you to send me all the invoices.” I want to make sure Sprite has enough to make this dream of hers be a viable reality. “Spare no expense, okay? She’ll probably want to be cautious financially, but I’d appreciate it if you’d suggest top-of-the-line stuff and give her a low quote. I don’t want her to know I’m paying for it till it’s all done.”

Jack’s face splits into a smile as he holds out his hand to shake mine. “Got it, bud. Delaney’s a special girl, and I’m glad she’s got someone who’s taking care of her like you are.”

Madeline walks out of the apartment, comes up behind Jack and puts her arms around his waist. “What was that, a secret handshake?”

Jack pulls her into him for a hug. “Yeah, babe. Top secret.”

That night, we all go out to Black Bear Brewing for beer and pizza. Delaney wants to pay for people as thanks for helping her move, but I’m not about to let her.

It’s quite amazing, really, how natural all of this feels—hanging out with Delaney and her friends. I put my arm around her and end up leaving it there for a while. It has nothing to do with wanting people to believe that she’s my girlfriend, and everything to do with wanting to just be touching her.

Shit. That’s pretty powerful to admit, even to myself.

It’s probably a good thing she’s spending the night at Madeline and Jack’s, because I don’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off her.

When we leave the bar, I take her hand and lead her over to my car.

“I have something for you, Sprite.”

“I bet you do.” Her eyes are sparkling with the beer and mischief.

“Besides that.” I pat the side of the Rover. “It’s in here. It’s actually two things, to celebrate your new place.” I unlock the car and open the door to show her.

“Oh, I love Boston Ferns! It’s beautiful—thank you.”

“I figured you could either put it in your apartment or the cafe. And there’s this, too.” I reach in to pull out the antique, cast iron CAFÉ sign I got, and my chest tightens watching her face, those perfect pink lips forming an O.

“Damon,” she breathes. “I absolutely love it.”

“I’m glad. My mother is good friends with an antique dealer, and I had him find this for me. There’s a little patina, but it adds to the vintage feel.”

She runs her slender fingers over the letters, her eyes shining. “It’s perfect.”

“Good. Listen, I’ll let you go—I know Jack and Madeline are waiting.” I look down at her, feel like I could fall into her big, baby blue eyes. Jesus, I want to be with her. I don’t want to push it—would never push her, not with the hummingbird wing-fragile vibe she exudes. She’s struggling with something in the past, and I hope someday soon she’ll feel she can share it with me. In the meantime, I’ll be struggling inside myself—wanting to allow her time and space while I tamp down my raw, visceral need to fuck her.

I bend down close to her, brushing my lips against her ear while she shivers. “You could have spent the night at my place, Sprite. Absolutely no pressure, but I just wanted you to know the invitation’s always open.”

In a completely unexpected move she wraps her arms around my neck. I can smell her flowery scent, and I don’t give a fuck that we’re in a parking lot and her friends are watching—I don’t give a fuck that this feels more real than it’s supposed to. All I care about at this moment is putting my mouth on hers.

I pull her close. She arches her back to mold her lower half against mine—fuck, does that feel good—and when my lips come down on hers, she makes this barely audible, sexy sigh that turns me inside out. She lets me slip my tongue inside her mouth, and it takes all of my willpower not to ask her to come home with me. I slide a hand up to her ponytail, grasping it while I kiss her deeply for a few precious seconds, and then she steps back, blushing like crazy and darting her eyes over to Jack and Madeline who are pretending not to notice our impromptu make-out session.

“Thanks for the sign,” she says breathlessly. “And that kiss.”

“Both were my pleasure. Especially the second one.”

The color in her cheeks deepens. “It’s amazing how well you can know someone when you haven’t known them that long, isn’t it?”

I watch her walk away. Her words stay with me all the way home.