Friday there’s no game, not in the Mustang Dome anyway. There is plenty of game everywhere else seeing that it’s that fated day filled with red and pink hearts that greeting card companies the world over pant for all year long—Valentine’s Day.

WB doesn’t have classes, but there will be a party at every frat house and sorority all up and down The Row tonight. Not that I plan on attending. Nope. I’ll be participating in my new favorite ritual, hanging out with Sunday. Or at least I hope. She’s got her first official doctor’s appointment this afternoon, and I volunteered to go with her. I picked her up and drove us over to the medical building across from Hollow Brook General. I’m not too fond of blood and needles, but I’d brave an onslaught of both if it meant being there for Sunday and, apparently, it does.

The doctor’s office is cold and sterile, and the metal chairs they have peppered throughout the gargantuan waiting room don’t exactly help with the comfort level. The entire room is filled with women, most of which share a distended abdomen in common. A few of them look so painfully huge that in comparison to the rest of them it looks downright fake, like someone literally shoved a giant pillow up their shirts. It seems wholly impossible that a human body can stretch in that manner. I’ve seen plenty of girls’ midsections, and to think they all have the possibility of accommodating another human being this way seems like nothing short of a miracle.

Sunday grunts and groans next to me as she fills out the phone book’s worth of forms they’ve given her. She’s been feeling bad all morning. The only thing she’s eaten today has been a couple of crackers. I’m pretty sure that’s not considered eating for two. That’s hardly eating for one. She’s still pretty sick.

It’s been one solid week, and neither one of us has brought up that kiss. Maybe that’s why. Maybe it made her sick.

That kiss. A rush of adrenaline courses through me at the thought. I have kissed my fair share of girls—though not as many as Sunday likes to believe—but that mouthwatering lip maneuver we undertook for the better part of three hours was something I have never experienced. I have never been so thoroughly aroused. Never in my life have I even thought about the act of kissing as something that might be worth exploring further. It was always a means to what came next, and what came next was usually me.

Sunday turns in the paperwork, and they call her name almost immediately.

She jolts as those lemon-yellow eyes lock over mine. “Sunday Knight. That’s me.”

“You passed the first test of the day.” I pat her hand. “You’ll ace the rest.”

She makes a face. “The next test is a pregnancy test, and judging by the way Little Fish has me wanting to puke up things I haven’t even put in my mouth yet, I’m pretty sure I’ll ace the next one, too. Come on.” She gives my hand a tug, and my muscles freeze solid.

“What do you mean come on? You want me to go back there with you?”

“Yes.” Her eyes grow wide. “Izzy hinted at the fact he’s unbelievably attractive, and I might accidentally fall in love with him and want to commit lewd acts. And seeing that I’m prone to bouts of promiscuity, I think you, as my next of kin, should come in and protect that poor man against my hypersexual ways.”

A dull groan comes from me, and we head on in together. “You do realize what end he’ll be looking at, don’t you?”

“Please. We had basic anatomy together in high school. Consider this a much-delayed field trip where you find yourself up close and personal with female genitalia.” She bites down her lips, and a laugh bubbles from her. “Kidding. I’ll have you sit behind me. You won’t see a thing. Maybe a boob shot if you’re lucky.” She gives a little wink. “And you would be lucky. They’ve nearly doubled in size.” She takes me by the hand as we head to the back. “Do you think Little Fish is already putting in its order for a double vanilla shake? Because it sure feels like it.”

I belt out a riotous laugh, and the nurse raises a brow. “That’s one lucky baby,” she chortles. “You two sure are in love. Keep it up. A kid these days needs two good parents on its side.” She has Sunday step on the scale.

“This is the part where you look away.” Sunday gives me a light nod in the other direction.

I do as I’m told and turn around. That nurse thinks we’re together. She thinks I’m the father. She would be right, but Sunday doesn’t know that. It almost doesn’t seem fair. Hell, I know it’s not.

Sunday takes off to the restroom to pee in a cup, and once she’s through we head into a private room and Sunday is given a paper gown to put on. As soon as the nurse leaves, I hold up a hand.

“I know the drill.” I turn and stare at the pebble grained wallpaper while listening as she jumps around behind me, the rustle of paper as she curses under her breath. I’m not big on doctors’ offices. Heck, I can’t remember the last time I was at the doctor’s myself, but the scent and the look of this place makes me feel lightheaded. I’ve got an iron stomach. I can watch a gory horror flick with the best of them, but you put me in a tiny cubicle filled with needles—that aren’t even pointed in my direction—and I’m tempted to voluntarily black out. “Anytime you want to give me the boot, just say the word.” Please say the word.

A laugh bubbles from her. “Turn around, you coward, and come here.”

Sunday greets me with an unsure grin as if maybe she was feeling a little cowardly herself. But she’s no coward. Sunday is the furthest thing from it. She’s been sicker than anyone should ever be, and I haven’t heard her complain about it once.

Her eyes flash to mine. “I’m not a fan of being poked and prodded. And for the record, I’m not a fan of spreading my legs for a man I don’t know.” She rolls her eyes. “My God, how ironic is that?” Her chest bounces with a sad chuckle, and that pink gown opens enough for me to have a view I shouldn’t be looking at. “That’s what landed me here to begin with.”

I take a seat on the rolling stool and land beside her. “Don’t beat yourself up over anything. What’s done is done.” Let me beat myself up over it, because at the end of the day, this is my fault. If I didn’t coax her into imbibing half that keg with me, neither of us would be here right now—certainly not that baby we made. I look up, and her pale amber eyes connect with mine. You can see the fear percolating in them, and all I want to do is hold her. “Sunday”—her name presses out of me with grief—“I want you to know that you’ll never be alone in any of this. You’ll always have me. I’ll help you raise the baby. I’ll be there for you, on call, at all hours. If you need diapers or sushi at three a.m., I’m your man. And that offer stands for as long as I’m breathing.”

“Seth”—she breathes my name as if it took everything in her to say it—“that’s awful nice of you.” A swell of tears fills her eyes, and she blinks them away. “But life is going to change for the both of us. You’re going to get married one day and have a family of your own. I’m pretty sure your wife isn’t going to appreciate me and my kid taking up your time.” She averts her gaze to the floor a moment. “You know I used to hear that phrase damaged goods and never thought anything of it, and as silly as it sounds, that’s exactly what I feel like. For so long I thought I had the advantage in life, and here I am at Whitney Briggs, one of the top private schools in the world, and I’ve just altered my destiny in a huge way before I even got out into the real world with my golden ticket—the degree that it will probably take me ten times longer to earn if they don’t kick me out before I finish it. I’m already struggling to keep up in my classes. I’ve gone from being an A student to a failure at life.”

“Hey”—I bark it out a little harsher than I meant to before picking up her hand—“you’ll never be damaged goods. You’re beautiful, smart, and funny. You’re going to make a great mother. Don’t get discouraged, and don’t let those negative thoughts weigh you down.” It’s clear she needs me here more than ever, if for nothing else than to present her with the truth when her mind insists on heading into dark places.

Her fingers press over mine, and that heavy look of grief on her face lightens. “What did I ever do to deserve you? You’re way too good to me, you know that?”

Here it is, that cracked door I’ve been waiting for to share my true feelings for her. Sure, that kiss should have shouted it from a mountaintop, but things have been so insane I think I need words to get it out. “Sunday, I’ve been meaning to—”

The door swings open, and in breezes a six-foot wall of muscles with a toothy grin, and the worst part about the dude is he actually seems likeable. He’s young, just a little older than us in fact. There’s no way this is a real doctor.

“Dr. Green here. Look at this”—he grins our way before glancing over the chart—“lovebirds. I’ll admit, it warms my heart to see people so in love.” The nurse comes back in and gets quietly to work pulling out a plethora of medieval looking devices.

That’s two for two. Maybe they’re supposed to say things like that—keep it light, avoid the fear and bloodshed most couples want to resort to in places like this. I bet wives want to slaughter their husbands once they realize a human the size of a football has to squeeze out of their most delicate orifice. Heck, I’d be pissed.

“Oh”—Sunday laughs as she pulls her hand free—“we’re not together. Seth is just a good friend I brought along for support.”

Dr. GQ leans back on his Italian leather shoes as he cuts her a curious look. “So, he’s not the father?”

“Nope.” Her cheeks flush a bright pink. “The father’s not even in the picture.”

Yes, I am. I’m right here, Sunday. I promise you I’m not going anywhere.

“So, you’re single?” the not-so-good doctor dares to ask as he pulls on his latex gloves.

Sunday giggles like a schoolgirl and, holy crap, is she still blushing? Is that for him? She’s not into this crackpot, is she?

“I guess, if you say so.” Her eyes fall to mine for a moment. “Single and eating for two. Not exactly where I thought I’d end up on Valentine’s Day this year.”

“Ah”—he rolls over on his seat and pumps up the table Sunday is sitting on—“it’s rare for any of us to end up where we think we should be. Life has a way of surprising us, doesn’t it?”

“That’s for sure,” she chirps as she falls back on her elbows, knees parted, that paper gown opening like a flower for him.

He taps her thigh. “Lie down and put your feet in the stirrups. I’ll take a look and feel around, then we’ll get to the fun part.”

I bet you will, dude. My blood boils so hot so fast I’m this close to pushing him through a wall. Who the hell does he think he is talking to her like that?

Sunday sets her feet in the tiny cradles at the end of the table, and my heart starts on what feels like an audible wallop. Shit. He really is about to have a king’s view of the girl I love.

Love?

I love Sunday.

I glance over at her, and it feels as if a weight has lifted from me. I do. I love Sunday Knight. A dull laugh strums from my chest.

She clicks her tongue at me. “Don’t be an imbecile, Seth. Give me your hand.” She flicks her fingers, clearly annoyed with me, and I can’t help but feel like an ass.

The doctor glances my way and winks before leaning in between her knees. “All right, girl, open wide.”

I jolt in my seat. “What the f—”

“Shh!” Sunday makes wild eyes at me. “Just sit there,” she hisses, and I tighten my grip on her as if I were the one in the hot seat.

He holds his hand out, and the nurse drops a mean looking tool into it.

“I’m going to insert the speculum,” he drops his voice to his lower register as if he were trying to seduce her, and Sunday bucks and grunts because I’m pretty sure it hurts like hell. That thing was a foot long at least, and all of it has disappeared underneath that paper gown. Shit. “That’s a good girl. Just relax. I’m going to feel around and make sure everything is where it’s supposed to be.”

“I bet,” I whisper, and Sunday gives my fingers a hard tug.

“Two hands,” he whispers as his other greasy mitt joins the party. His head disappears underneath her papier-mâché dress, and suddenly I am very fucking concerned.

And right about now, I’d like to break both his hands and his face for the hell of it.

Sunday tugs at me again and curls her head toward my chest. She looks up, and those beautiful eyes, those long lashes gaze up at me with an affection I’ve never seen in her before. Could it be that Sunday shares the same feelings I do? And why in the hell did we have to choose this moment, when some other dude who I’m not even sure is a doctor is having his way with her girl parts?

She lets out a moan and exhales, her lids hooded as if she were in the heat of something serious—but her eyes are still pinned to mine, and I can’t say I don’t appreciate the fact.

“All done. Everything looks good.” He comes up for air, red-faced, his hair looking as if he went through a war. Damn pervert. “Have as much sex as you like.” He looks right at her. “The baby is perfectly safe, so if you happen to get lucky this Valentine’s Day, no point in holding back. It is S-A-F-E. Now for the fun part.” He looks to his nurse. “How about a little mood lighting?” The nurse cuts out the lights, save for the computer monitor, and she slides that over to us as if we were readying to watch a movie.

“Putting a condom on the wand.” The demented doctor continues to talk to himself. “Warm jelly,” he says, dousing it with something that looks like a condiment container. “And inserting gently into the vagina.”

Sunday’s body bucks. “Oh, that is warm.” She bites down on a smile as she looks my way. “This is about to get real, isn’t it?” She pulls my hand to her chest and gives it a squeeze.

A loud walloping sound fills the room, the sound of a baseball bat twirling at Mach 1. Dr. Green grins over at Sunday, and I can’t help but note the fact his teeth glow as if they were painted with radium.

“And we’ve got a strong heartbeat,” he says, pointing up at the screen. “You see that tiny baby there?”

“Oh my God,” the words evict from me as I lose the wind in my lungs. “That’s the baby?”

“That’s the baby.” He moves the screen in close for Sunday and me to see. “It looks as if you’re ten weeks along.”

And there he or she is, a beautiful head, two delicate arms—legs.

“Look at those fingers!” Sunday’s body trembles as she giggles through the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Is it sucking its thumb?”

Dr. Green leans in. “That’s what it looks like. It’s not uncommon, but it does appear that your child has already found a way to amuse itself. Lucky you. A sign of good things to come.”

“Good things,” Sunday whispers, her gaze transfixed upon the screen in what appears to be an unbreakable bond. There’s no doubt she’s already unbreakably bonded to this baby, our baby. I know I am. There’s no way I want strangers raising our child. If Sunday wants to put it up for adoption, I’ll take it. It won’t be easy, but that baby is my flesh and blood, hers too, and I need to be near it just to breathe. I’ve never felt so connected to someone in all my life like I do with Sunday right now, with our baby.

The doctor finishes up, and as soon as Sunday dresses we take off. Neither of us says anything until we hit the parking lot, and in an instant she wraps her arms around me tight, burying her face in my chest, and I can feel the wetness from her tears. Sunday looks up with her lips quivering into a smile.

“That was incredible. Thank you, Seth. I’m so glad I had someone to share it with, and I’m glad it was you.”

“I’m glad it was me, too.” I press a chaste kiss to her forehead. “You have any plans for tonight?”

“V-Day?” She makes a face. “All my friends are either headed to a frat party or having a private party with their plus ones. I’m pretty sure there aren’t too many guys out there looking for a knocked-up girlfriend. He’d have to be a real pervert.”

“You sure about that?” I try to hold back a laugh. “I’m pretty sure that doctor back there was gunning to have a good time with you.”

“Did you see where he put his hands? He did have a good time with me.”

We share a quiet laugh.

“So have dinner with me.” I shrug as if it were no big deal. “If you’re nice, I’ll take you to a movie.”

“Oh, really? And if I’m naughty?” Her left brow hooks, and my insides explode with heat. It looks like I’m not the only pervert around here.

“If you’re naughty, you get a direct pass to my apartment. I might even build you a fire.” Crap. Did I just say that? I’m pretty sure flirting with someone who’s trusting you in the most delicate state of their life is a shitty thing to do—especially when you put them in that delicate state.

“Well then”—her fingernails glide down my back, and it feels electric—“I hope you have wood for that fire.” Her eyes widen a moment as if she caught the double entendre a moment too late. “Because I plan on being very, very naughty.”

Sunday plans on being naughty, and it takes everything in me not to grin like an idiot.

Sunday and I are unnaturally quiet all the way back to Briggs.

* * *

The Black Bear is in full-on romance mode as the crooners they pay to belt out live tunes night after night moan one slow song after another into the mic. I told Sunday I’d take her anywhere, but she insisted that the Black Bear was fine, pointing out the fact everywhere else was booked to the hilt weeks in advance.

And as my crappy luck would have it, there’s not a single table available in this place either. The usual wall-to-wall bodies only seem to have extrapolated into a throng of flesh everywhere you look. I’m about to pull out my phone and text Sunday plan B when I spot a friendly wave coming from the back. It’s Trixie calling me over, and next to her Rush grins at me as if he’s actually happy to see me.

My insides grind as I reluctantly head their way to say a quick hello.

“What’s up?” Rush slaps me five. “You look dressed to kill. Who’s the lucky lady? Or are you taking them on a rotation tonight?” He hacks out a laugh, but Trixie is downright scowling at me. She knows exactly how much time I’ve been logging with her BFF. Trixie is as sharp as a butcher knife. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she had everything figured out, right down to that baby’s DNA. Not that she knows there is a baby. At least according to Sunday. “Don’t just stand there. Take a seat.” He kicks out the chair across from him, and I wince at it. I’m pretty sure this isn’t how Sunday or I envisioned this night going, romantic or not.

“Thanks, man, but I don’t want to put a damper on your good time.”

Rush barks out another laugh. “Trix and I were just going to have a quick bite and take off for my place. Trust me, sweetheart, you’re not putting a damper on our good time.”

Subtlety has never been Rush Knight’s strong suit, but I can’t seem to take him up on his offer. I’d rather eat takeout in front of that fire I plan on making tonight.

“Dude”—Rush points hard into the seat in front of me—“this place is packed. Grab a burger with us. We really don’t care.”

“That’s right.” Trixie’s brows hike up, and I can’t help but note her tone is drenched in sarcasm. “Unless you’ve got a hot date with a beautiful girl. Let me guess, tall, blonde, and has her gag reflex on overdrive?”

Crap. “Nope. It’s just me.” I don’t know why I spouted the lie, but it’s partially true. Sunday and I aren’t technically dating. It’s simply dinner with friends—like the one I’m about to experience with them. I fall into the seat and don’t bother perusing the menu. I’ve eaten at the Black Baer enough to have it memorized.

Rush shakes his head at me. “I should set you up. I’ve got at least ten chicks that still text me as if Trixie wasn’t ready to knock their lights out.”

A vanilla breeze hits the table, and I glance up to find Sunday standing there, stunning as ever with her hair long and full of volume, her makeup done up to the point I’m moved to worship, and she’s wearing a soft pink sweater that begs for me to touch it.

“You look beautiful.” I swallow hard and, holy shit, did I just spout that off in front of her brother?

Her eyes enlarge for a moment with panic. “Thanks.” She shoots Trixie a look that says keep your mouth shut, and I second that motion.

Rush grunts, “Why are you looking like that, anyway? Is there some dude here you’re trying to impress? Because if there is, I’m going to kill him. Nobody sees you looking this good.” He points hard to the seat next to me. “Eat with us, and I’ll walk you to your dorm after.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes as she takes a seat, her perfume wrapping itself around me like a vanilla-laced curtain. “I was hoping to find Serena or Harley.” She shrugs my way. “But I guess you guys will have to do.” She gives a sly wink my way, and Trixie clears her throat. “So, what did I interrupt?” She bounces in her seat, and I can’t help but glance down at the oversized sweater she’s wearing and a warmth spreads through me at the thought of knowing our baby is just inches away. It feels good being near Sunday.

Trixie leans in with a fire in her eyes, never a good thing. “Rush here was just looking to set Seth up with the bimbos that continue to stalk him.” She bares her teeth at Sunday in a malicious grin. It’s clear she’s enjoying this. “You know anyone who might want to date a tall, dark, and handsome—nice, upstanding, generous, have I mentioned basketball star?” She pierces Sunday with a hard look, and all of the hope I have for Sunday and me connecting on that level skyrockets as I await her answer.

“Whoa”—Rush calls time with his hands—“I’m sitting right here, remember? Seth’s not that great.” He makes a face my way. “All right. You are, but set your sights on anyone but my girl.” He huffs a dull laugh. “Can you believe I actually used to think you were into Trix? I could never figure out why you were always hanging off her and Sunday. I mean, what else could it have meant? But Trix had it right. You’re everything she said and more. The girls are going to eat you alive.”

I cringe at the visual.

“I bet they will.” Sunday shakes her head as if that list were completely fabricated and the furthest thing from the truth. “Make sure you find the most annoying of the bunch. I hear Seth has an appreciation for needy, whiny women. He’s got a real Superman Syndrome, this one.” She tosses a quick wink my way, and I can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“Superman, huh?”

Rush bucks with a laugh. “I’ll send a girl your way who reeks of Kryptonite. Don’t worry, dude. When she’s done with you, you’ll be thanking me for the rest of your life.”

Sunday and Trixie exchange a heated glance.

Serena shows up in time to kill the carnal conversation, and the three of us put in our orders while Sunday continues to hem and haw over the menu.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you looked like you were on a double date.” Serena laughs as she tucks a pen behind her ear.

Rush laughs long and hard right along with her. “Seth knows better than to mess with Sunday. Isn’t that right?” He nods over to me. “One crooked look will get you a fat lip. And that’s a promise.”

“Got it.” I can’t help but wonder what a baby would get me. A body cast in the least.

“Let’s do it, Sun.” Serena beats her notepad with her pen. “There are a lot of people who want to get out of here tonight, and you’re looking at one of ’em.”

“Oh, right.” She closes her menu. “I’ll just have a club sandwich.” Her eyes flit to the ceiling. “You know what, make that a roast beef with au jus, lots and lots of au jus.” She shrugs over at Rush and Trixie. “Just love that stuff.” Serena turns to leave, and Sunday holds up a hand. “And a peanut butter shake! And maybe throw in a side of mac and cheese, bacon cheddar tots, a breakfast skillet with the eggs scrambled, hash browns, and a side of blueberry and cream pancakes.” She holds the menu up for Serena to grab it, but nobody moves. All eyes are locked on Sunday. “What? The menu says they serve breakfast all day. Besides, Seth always eats off my plate. A girl has to look out for herself.”

Serena snatches the menu and stares down her cousin before taking off.

“Someone’s hungry.” Trixie cocks her head to the side, her eyes slit with suspicion.

Rush twitches his cheek as he looks to me. “She’s right about Baker. Dude, learn to keep your fork to yourself. You’re scaring my sister.” If only he knew how much. He nods to Sunday. “I’m splitting those pancakes with you.”

“You got it.” Sunday rubs her shoulder to mine as she adjusts herself, and the warmth of her body sets me off. I can’t help but notice how full her lips are, how full the upper half of her sweater is. And, believe me, I feel like an ass for noticing.

The conversation turns to school, the media club, the fundraiser that we’re doing to help Sunday raise the money she’s determined to give the homeless shelter.

“We’re halfway there,” Rush assures her. “Next time you want to do something like that, maybe shoot me a text first. I’ll gladly talk you out of it. It’s going to be hell trying to get it all before the semester is through.”

“I’ll do it,” I say without hesitating. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve I haven’t implemented yet. I know you’ll reach your goal.”

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head at me in disbelief. “You really are the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I can’t thank you enough for all the things you do to me—for me—to me—for me.” She straightens like a lightning rod, and Trixie and I laugh at the verbal blunder, but Rush raises a brow as if there might be something to it.

Dinner wraps up, and the four of us head back out into the iced night. I offer to walk Sunday back, and Rush seems more than fine with it. Something tells me he’s looking forward to what comes next in the lineup with Trixie tonight.

Sunday takes up my hand and leans in. “Are you really going to walk me back to my dorm?”

“Yes. I gave your brother my word.” A mischievous grin blooms on my lips. “As soon as I take you to my place and impress you with my wood.”

“Seth!” She swats me while indulging with an open-mouthed laughed. “That’s disgusting!”

“What?” I inch back and marvel how the moon washes her a beautiful shade of gold. “Get your head out of the gutter. I’m making a fire. It’s cold out, if you haven’t noticed.”

“And here I thought I was about to get lucky.”

My eyes flick to hers.

“You heard Dr. Green.” Her lips curve at the tips. “It’s perfectly fine.”

We share a laugh that rises into this heart-shaped night. Joking about having sex with me? I don’t know what the hell is happening, but I’m not about to stop it.

She grabs my hand and runs us into the woods behind the parking lot, pulling us into the shadows, away from the prying eyes of the public at large. I don’t know what she’s thinking, but I like where this is going. Then it hits me. It’s probably directly related to the one hundred bathroom trips a day she’s been making lately.

“You okay? Is the baby okay?”

“Yes,” she hisses, her cool finger falling over my lips a moment. “I promise I’m fine.” The shadows do their best to swallow her whole, but those glowing eyes shine through the dark like a beacon. “I just thought, you know, it’s Valentine’s Day.” She gives a little shrug. “I thought maybe we could steal a quick kiss.” Her affect grows serious as she bites down on her lip. “Unless, of course, you find me repulsive. And I totally get it. I look as if I just popped out of a dumpster.” She plucks at her sweater.

“Are you kidding?” My thumb brushes over her cheek, and I marvel at how soft her skin feels. “I meant what I said when I saw you tonight. You’re beautiful, Sunday.”

Her body falls over mine, her soft chest presses in tight as she pants a white plume of fog into the night. “I know this is awkward for you. But I figure it’s the least I could do since I’m ruining your night. I thought maybe if you weren’t getting that kiss from anyone, you could get one from me.” She shrugs. “Besides, I’ve got all these hormones working against me and no one to blow off a little steam with.”

I rock back on my heels, securing my arms around that feather soft sweater the way I’ve wanted to do all night. “I guess I’ll take one for the team.”

“Seth!” She claws at my chest with a laugh. “But since you’re being so compliant, thank you.”

Sunday looks like an angel, an ethereal being glowing against a fallen world. “I’m the one who’s thankful.”

Her lids close halfway, her cherry red lips part for me, and I land my mouth softly over hers. A dull moan works up her throat, the same moan she gave when she wolfed down those blueberry pancakes.

She pulls back. “Seth.” Her lids remain shut before opening a crack. “That was good. Real good. Now let’s put some spirit in it this time. Pretend like you’ve just come back from war and I’m the girl you’ve waited a decade to see.” She slaps both my cheeks playfully before cradling my face. “I want you to give it to me and give it to me hard.”

A laugh trembles through me, but in truth I’m ready to do exactly as she ordered. “Yes, ma’am.” I crash my mouth to hers and unleash a fury of lust-fueled kisses I have been fantasizing about ever since that night we did exactly this at my place. And if I have my way—and, apparently, she hers, we’re headed back there to continue with the show. Sunday rubs her fingers through my hair and grips me at the temples, her tongue rough and needy in my mouth. It’s like I’ve stepped into a dream, someone else’s life. I don’t even recognize the two of us anymore. I’m so grateful for all the time we’ve spent together, for what lies ahead in our future.

I’m in love with Sunday Knight, and I want the world to know it.

But I should probably tell Sunday first.

I should probably tell Sunday a lot of things.