“There is no way I’m letting you spend Thanksgiving alone,” she says, a mix of sass and warmth in her voice. “Come with me. Seriously. Meet the chaos. The casserole. All of it. It’s about time anyway.”
My heart stutters. “You’re serious?”
She bites her lip, then grins. “I am. I want you there.”
It hits me harder than I expect—that small invitation, that open door. Not because of the holiday, but because she’s choosing me again. Not just as a boyfriend, but as someone she wants in her world.
“I’d be honored,” I say softly.
She smiles, then looks down at her lap, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.
“Ivy?” I say, my voice low.
She lifts her gaze.
I lean closer, my voice teasing but wrapped in something deeper. “Can I kiss you?”
Her breath catches, eyes flicking to my mouth and back again.
“Because I’m not too sure how much longer I can last without it.”
Her laugh bubbles out, half joy, half disbelief, like she can’t believe we’re finally here. “I dare you.”
That’s all I need.
I close the distance, my lips finding hers in a kiss that feels like exhaling after holding my breath for weeks. It’s soft at first, like I’m trying to memorize the feel of her all over again. The truth of her. The miracle that she’s here.
But then she leans in. Her hands slide up my jaw, fingertips tracing the stubble there, and everything inside me unravels. The world around us blurs—the quiet night, the distant hum of traffic, the stars scattered above—until there’s only this. Only her. Only us.
The kiss deepens, not rushed, but certain. Like coming home. Like finding something I thought I’d lost for good. I can feel her heart racing against mine, her breath mingling with mine, the steady rhythm of two people who’ve waited, ached, for this exact moment.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, foreheads still pressed together, laughter spilling between us like we can’t contain it. Her smile is radiant, cheeks flushed, eyes shining in thedim light.
I brush a thumb across her cheek, still not quite believing. “Worth the wait,” I whisper.
Her lips curve, soft and sure. “It sure was.”
It’s just past midnight when I step into my apartment, the door clicking softly behind me as I toe off my shoes and shrug out of my jacket.
I pull my phone from my pocket and type the words without hesitation.
Gray
Made it home. I love you Ivy.
I stare at the message for a second longer, then hit send.
The silence wraps around me like a blanket as I move through the familiar motions—turning off lights, brushing my teeth, grabbing a clean t-shirt. My body’s tired, but my heart…it’s wide awake. Thrumming.
A low yowl cuts through the quiet.
Goliath hops onto the bed like he owns the place, tail flicking as if to scold me for staying out so late.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, tossing my jeans into the hamper. “I know it’s past your bedtime.”
He blinks at me, slow and unimpressed.
I sink down onto the mattress, scratching behind his ears until he purrs. “You’ll never believe it, buddy,” I say, grinning like a fool. “She kissed me. Well, I kissed her. But still. It happened. After two months of wondering if I’d ever get that chance again—she’s mine. We’re back.”
