Discovering what it meant to be in a relationship with Dillon over the next few weeks was fun. Exciting. More interesting than I expected.

Both of us had busy schedules. Classes. My volunteer work. His internship at his dad’s company. But we still made time for each other. Dinners out. Movies. Bowling. Mini golf. Ice skating. Study sessions.

We did all the traditional stuff, but Dillon also got creative with a few of his date ideas. For one of our dinner dates, we went to three different restaurants. A tapas place for appetizers, pho for entrées, and French for dessert. It was like an international food tour, and one of the best meals I’d ever had. Second only to the turkey and sides Elaine had made on Thanksgiving.

Another time, we drove almost an hour away to go to a pickle festival. I hadn’t even known pickle festivals existed, but Dillon had somehow managed to find one because he thought I’d enjoy it. When we’d had lunch on campus together a few days earlier, I’d stolen Dillon’s pickle off his plate. I loved them, but I never let the cafeteria staff put one on mine because they were so high in sodium and I had zero willpower when it came to their salty deliciousness. I enjoyed the hell out of the one I snagged from Dillon, though. A little bit too much because it’d inspired him to make some jokes about it all day. Sexual ones, of course. He was a guy, after all. We had such a good time at the festival, those jokes actually sounded kinda funny by the end of the day.

We’d also gone to the zoo, a trivia night at a local bar, and a wine tasting. It’d gotten to the point where I never knew what to expect from him, but I never doubted I’d enjoy whatever Dillon had come up with.

“What’re you and the hottie doing tonight?” Christine, my roommate since our freshman year, was lying on her stomach on her bed. She had a spiral notebook, a variety of highlighters and pens, two textbooks, and her cell phone spread out in front of her.

“No idea.” I finished tying my laces and wiggled my feet before getting up. “He only told me to wear comfortable shoes.”

“He likes to keep you guessing, doesn’t he?”

“Which amuses you to no end.”

“You can’t really blame me for that,” she laughed. “Not when I’m having a blast watching you leave your comfort zone without a single complaint. I’ve tried for years to get you to loosen up and have some fun, but you always had a perfectly good explanation for why you couldn’t come out with me. Your health. A paper you had to write. A test you needed to study for. A high school visit that you needed to wake up for super early the next morning.”

When she listed my reasons out that way, it sounded like I’d been trying to avoid spending time with her. But that hadn’t been my intention. Not at all. Christine was the closest thing I’d ever had to a best friend, and I was a total asshat for not taking the time to hang out with her more often over the years—even if the parties she liked to go to weren’t my thing. “You know they weren’t excuses, right? I wasn’t trying to avoid spending time with you or anything like that.”

“I know,” she reassured me. “And I understand, Faith. When they paired us up as roommates, we were strangers whose only connection was the time we spent in the system. But I’ve gotten to know you pretty well over the past few years, and I didn’t take it personally that you weren’t into the same things I was.”

That was a huge relief, but not much of a surprise since Christine was much easier going than I was. “I’m glad because I’d hate for you to think that I don’t consider you my friend.”

“Of course you do.” She rolled her blue eyes and laughed, tossing her long, blonde hair over one shoulder. “You never would have agreed to live with me for three more years if you didn’t secretly love me.”

“Yup. Total girl crush. It’s why I had to limit how much time I spent in your presence. So I didn’t fall totally in love with you,” I deadpanned.

“I totally get it. I mean”—she fluttered her eyelashes—“everyone can’t be as awesome as me. Right?”

“Yeah,” I snorted. “That’s exactly what I like best about you. Your awesomeness.”

“Better not let your hottie hear you say that. He might get jealous of how into me you really are.”

It was so wrong of me, but I couldn’t help smiling a little bit because she was right. Ish. Dillon wasn’t a crazy jealous person who resented my roommate, but he had a thing about other guys looking at me. He swore it happened all the time, but I figured it was just a convenient excuse for all the public displays of affection because I rarely noticed guys checking me out.

“Don’t fool yourself into thinking I don’t see that smug little grin of yours and know exactly what’s behind it,” she teased.

“But can you blame me for it?”

“Not even a tiny bit,” she giggled. “Your man is totally into you, and he’s hot with a capital H.”

“He’s also going to be here any minute.” I went over to my desk and checked my purse to make sure I had money and my ID. After a quick search through the contents, I dropped my phone inside and headed for the door.

“Faith?” I opened it before I looked back at Christine. “Seriously, we all have damage from our pasts. Part of yours was that it was hard for you to let go and just have fun. But it made sense. You were focused on doing the right thing because you felt like you had a debt to pay because of your kidney.”

She was right. In some ways, I still did. But then I reminded myself of what Dr. Stewart had told me about living my life to the fullest and honoring their gift by being happy. I gave her a jerky nod as I opened the door.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am that you aren’t letting any of that get in the way of you spending time with your hottie now.”

“Me, too.” My reply was muffled by the shutting of the door behind me, but it was heartfelt. I was grateful to the magnetic pull I felt towards Dillon because it’d shaken me up. Taken me out of my comfort zone and into an unknown that was better than I could have possibly dreamed.

For someone who hadn’t been in a relationship since high school, Dillon was the perfect boyfriend. At least for me. He was attentive, sending me texts when we were apart and calling me on the nights we didn’t get together. He was observant too, noticing my likes and dislikes and taking them into consideration when he made plans. Even with the little stuff, like grabbing an extra bottle of water whenever we had lunch together and telling me to take it with me to my next class. Or keeping healthy snacks in the fridge at his place for when we hung out over there.

It all settled me. Quieted the tiny voice inside my head that tried to convince me nothing was permanent, and nobody stuck around. Dillon battled my doubts each and every day, and he won without even knowing he was fighting against them.

Because he was just that good to me.

Because we fit together.

Like he and his dad liked to put it, ‘when you know, you know.’ And my head was starting to believe what my heart felt like it knew with Dillon—we were supposed to be together.

With that thought in my head, I rushed forward when I saw his SUV at the curb in front of my dorm. The windows were rolled down, and I smiled when the usual butterflies swirled in my belly at the sight of him in the driver’s seat. As I climbed inside, his dark eyes swept over my tight jeans and slouchy top, filling with heat at my choice of outfit for today’s date.

“How is it that you manage to look perfect when you don’t even know where I’m taking you?”

“Lucky guesses?”

I buckled my seat belt, and he leaned over to claim my lips in a quick kiss that left me breathless for more.

“Or maybe you just know me better than you realize,” he suggested, giving me another kiss before pulling away from the curb and heading off campus.

“But not well enough to ever figure out where you’re taking me before we get there. You do too good of a job at coming up with ideas I’d never think to guess.”

“You don’t give your own creativity enough credit. You’re the one who found that outdoor movie we went to a couple of weeks ago.”

“True,” I conceded. It was one of the few times he’d let me do the planning. And I’d had to think way outside the box on that one because he didn’t like me spending money when we were together. But I was determined to treat him to a night out, so I’d scoured the internet for ideas until I discovered that a nearby park did free movies on Friday nights. Everyone brought their own blankets and lawn chairs to sit out on the lawn, and there was an ice cream truck that came by with treats. I’d packed us popcorn, candy, and drinks and we’d cuddled on a blanket surrounded by families with kids while we watched an animated movie. It had been awesome, and we planned to go again sometime soon.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m not dying to know what we’re doing tonight.”

“How about I give you a hint?”

He flashed me a grin that made me think his hint wouldn’t do me much good, but I still took him up on the offer. “Yes, please.”

“Chocolate, strawberry, and vanilla.”

There was only one guess for that hint. “Ice cream!”

“Yup.”

“Are we going out for ice cream?”

“Not exactly.”

“I knew it couldn’t be that easy,” I grumbled.

“But only because surprising you is so much fun.”

It really was, so I didn’t complain too much for the ten minutes we were in the car before arriving at a local cooking school.

“Are we going to make our own ice cream?” The awe in my voice made me sound like a little girl who’d just seen Santa for the first time.

“Yeah, my mom had a flyer for this place because she’s taken a few classes here. When I noticed they were focusing on ice cream tonight, I signed us up.”

“I love ice cream.” More than loved it. I could’ve happily eaten ice cream at every meal if it wasn’t so unhealthy. “But I’ve never made it before.”

“Neither have I, but they’re going to do a couple of low-ingredient, all-natural recipes that you can eat as often as you’d like because they aren’t that bad for you.”

I’d known he was considerate, but the thought he’d put into this plan blew me away. It wasn’t just about taking me to make something I loved for the first time. He’d found a way for me to indulge my ice cream addiction without having to worry. “Dillon,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“Shit.” He parked the car and turned to face me, worry etched on his handsome face. “You hate the idea, don’t you? Fuck, I’m sorry. I thought you’d love it.”

“How long do we have before the class starts?”

“What?” His gaze slid to the clock on his dash. “Fifteen minutes, but we can skip it and grab dinner instead.”

I shook my head as I unbuckled my seat belt and dropped my purse at my feet. Then I climbed over the console onto his lap. “Push your seat all the way back, honey.”

“Holy fuck.” He hit a button, and his seat slid back. It gave me enough space to settle on his lap, and his hard length pressed against my core. “What’re you doing, baby?”

“Just saying thank you for being so incredible to me.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and brushed my lips against his.

“We’re in a public parking lot, Faith.” His gaze swept out the window to scan the parking lot.

“I’m not going to do anything we could get into trouble for,” I whispered against his ear. I nipped at the lobe softly, and he groaned.

“Didn’t pick something you’d like because I wanted you to feel like you owe me anything. I’m not in a rush, Faith. As badly as I want you”—his hips jerked forward to show me just how much—“which is a fucking lot, I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be ready for that step. There’s no pressure here. We have all the time in the world.”

“I know we do.” I smiled down at him. “And I’m going to spend the next fifteen minutes of it making out with my boyfriend.”

With our mouths pressed together, tongues tangled, and hands stroking over our clothes, we lost track of time. It ended up being more like twenty minutes...and the only reason we made it inside for the class at all was because someone tapped on the fogged up windows and told us to knock it off. Learning how to make homemade ice cream and a steamy make-out session. Best date ever.