The sky was dark by the time we got back on the road.

The beach lights faded in the rearview mirror, replaced by long stretches of highway and the soft glow of Lucas’s dashboard.

For a while, neither of us said anything.

My wrist felt heavier than it should have.

Not because the bracelet weighed much.

But because of what it meant.

Lucas reached over the center console without looking at me.

His fingers brushed mine first.

Testing.

Like he wasn’t sure if I’d pull away.

I didn’t.

He laced our fingers together and rested our joined hands on the space between us, his thumb rubbing slow circles against my skin.

The motion was absentminded.

Comforting.

Possessive in the softest way.

I looked down at our hands.

At the matching bracelets.

At the way his looked worn from years of being kept.

He never forgot.

Not the snacks.

Not the arcade.

Not the bracelet.

Not me.

I swallowed.

“You’re quiet,” he said gently, eyes still on the road.

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

I huffed a small laugh.

“I just… I didn’t know you were this scared.”

He glanced at me briefly.

“Scared?”

“You were shaking.”

He didn’t deny it.

“I’ve stared down worse,” he said lightly. “But I’ve never asked someone to choose me before.”

My chest tightened.

He doesn’t even realize how much that says.

The car hummed around us.

I leaned my head back against the seat and watched the highway lights flash by.

Today felt unreal.

Like someone rewrote a chapter of my life I thought was permanently ruined.

Lucas apologized to my parents.

He stood up to my dad.

He quit football.

He changed his major.

He got on one knee.

For me.

That should scare me.

It should feel like too much.

But instead…

It felt like coming home.

I turned my head slightly and watched him drive.

His jaw looked softer tonight.

Not tense.

Not calculating.

Just… him.

My boyfriend.

God.

That word did something to me.

My boyfriend.

I squeezed his hand gently.

He squeezed back immediately.

Like he’d been waiting for that.

“I love—”

The words almost slipped out.

They burned at the back of my throat.

Not yet.

I’m not ready.

But I’m close.

Instead I said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not forgetting.”

He didn’t look at me this time.

He just lifted our joined hands and pressed his lips to my knuckles without taking his eyes off the road.

“I never could.”

And I believed him.

For the first time in years—

I felt safe.

I smiled faintly and leaned my head against the window.

After a few minutes, I noticed powdered sugar from the funnel cake all over my hoodie.

“Ugh,” I muttered. “Do you have napkins?”

“Yeah,” Lucas answered automatically. “Check the glove compartment.”

I leaned forward and reached for it.

The second my fingers touched the latch—

“Wait.”

His voice cut sharp through the car.

I froze.

“What?”

There was a beat too long of silence.

“I think there are some in the backseat,” he said quickly. Too quickly.

“You just said—”

“I moved them earlier.”

His tone wasn’t angry.

It wasn’t loud.

But it was tight.

Controlled.

Like he was holding something back.

My hand stayed on the glove compartment.

I looked at him.

His jaw was set.

Eyes forward.

Knuckles pale on the steering wheel.

It was subtle.

Most people wouldn’t have noticed.

But I’ve spent years reading him.

Something was off.

“Okay…” I said slowly.

I leaned back instead reaching into the backseat. 

He didn’t relax.

Not immediately.

In fact—

He tightened his grip on my hand.

And didn’t let go again for the rest of the drive.

Even when he shifted gears, he kept brushing his thumb over my knuckles like he needed to make sure I was still there.

Still real.

Still his.

We finally got back to the apartment complex and parked the car.

He turned off the engine.

For a second neither of us moved.

The bracelet felt warm against my skin.

“Today was…” I started.

“Don’t,” he said quickly.

I blinked. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t say thank you like it was a favor.” His voice was softer now. “It wasn’t.”

My chest tightened again.

We got out of the car and walked toward the building. His fingers brushed mine once, twice, like he wanted to grab my hand again but wasn’t sure if he should.

Boyfriends.

The word echoed in my head.

Boyfriends.

Inside the hallway, everything looked normal. Quiet. Dim lights. Someone’s TV playing faintly through a wall.

Lucas unlocked the door.

He pushed it open.

And froze.

I stepped in behind him—

And stopped breathing.

Candles.

Soft golden light flickering across the walls.

Rose petals scattered from the doorway down the hall like a trail.

Leading to the bedroom.

For a full five seconds I just stood there.

Processing.

“Lucas…” I whispered.

He was staring at it like he didn’t know whether to be proud or horrified.

“It’s not too much, right?” he blurted suddenly. “I mean— most of what I know about romance is just stuff I’ve seen in movies and I didn’t want it to be stupid but I also didn’t want it to be boring and I might’ve overdone it—”

I turned and looked at him.

He looked nervous.

More nervous than he had on one knee at the beach.

“I can blow them out,” he added quickly. “Or we can pretend this didn’t happen. I just thought— after today— I thought maybe—”

“You did this?” I asked softly.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I might’ve had a teammate come over earlier.”

My heart did something painful and warm at the same time.

“You planned this,” I said.

“Yeah.”

His eyes searched my face.

For rejection.

For discomfort.

For anything.

“Lucas…” My voice came out smaller than I expected. “It’s beautiful.”

He exhaled so hard it was almost a laugh.

“Okay. Good. Because I was about two seconds away from kicking every candle over.”

I stepped fully inside.

The door clicked shut behind us.

The apartment felt different.

Not just romantic.

Intimate.

Intentional.

I walked slowly along the path of petals, my fingertips brushing one of the candles as I passed.

“You don’t have to,” he said quietly behind me.

I turned to him and kissed his lips.

This time when I kissed him, I was the one in control.

Not because I was trying to be bold.

 Not because I suddenly knew what the hell I was doing.

 But because for the first time in years, I wasn’t scared.

His mouth opened under mine, warm and slow, like he was giving me every second to decide.

I tilted my head, deepened it, tasted the faint mint on his tongue.

Lucas cupped both my cheeks with his big hands and matched me, never rushing, never taking more than I gave.

When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine.

Our breaths tangled, hot and uneven.

“Can I touch you…?” he asked, voice rough but gentle.

I blinked up at him.
 “Where…?”

“Everywhere.”

My breathing hitched.
 I didn’t look away.

“Yes,” I said.

His thumbs brushed my cheekbones once, then his smooth, warm hands slid down my sides, slow, deliberate.

Fingers found the hem of my shirt.

He paused, eyes searching mine.

I nodded.

He lifted the fabric inch by inch, knuckles grazing my ribs, my stomach.

The shirt came over my head and dropped.

Cool air kissed my bare skin.
 My nipples pebbled instantly.

His hands settled at my waist, thumbs stroking slow circles over my hipbones.

Then his fingers moved to the button of my jeans.

The zipper rasped loud in the quiet.

My hands tightened in his hoodie.

“Too much?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head.
 “No. Just… new.”

I was shocked. I imagined this moment would happen one day and that… I’d be terrified. 

My voice cracked.
 “I’ve never… done any of this before.”

Lucas’s eyes softened.
 He leaned in, kissed the corner of my mouth.

“I know, baby. I’ve got you.”

He pressed the softest kiss to my lips as the denim slid down my thighs.

I stepped out, heart hammering.

Lucas’s gaze roamed over me, slow, reverent, drinking in every flush.

“Noah…”

His voice broke.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Yeah…?”

“I can’t…”

He exhaled hard, shaky.
 “I can’t hold back anymore.”

Before I could answer, his mouth found my neck.

Soft at first—lips brushing the spot under my ear that made me shiver.

Then firmer, open-mouthed, tongue dragging slowly and wet.

He kissed along my jaw, back to my lips—deeper, hungrier, tongue sliding against mine in filthy, lazy strokes.

I moaned into his mouth—quiet, surprised—
 “Ah—”

His hands roamed my bare back, tracing my spine, dipping low.

I arched, pressing closer, desperate for more skin.

Lucas pulled back just enough to look at me, pupils blown, white hair messy.

Then he sank lower.

Kisses trailed down my throat, over my collarbone.

When his mouth reached my chest he paused, waiting.

I threaded my fingers into his hair and tugged him closer.

His lips closed over one nipple—hot, wet suction.

“Nngh—”

The sound escaped me before I could stop it.

His tongue flicked slowly, circling the tight peak.

Heat pooled low in my belly, making everything throb.

My other nipple got his fingers—thumb brushing, then pinching just enough to sting sweetly, rolling until it swelled under his touch.

I whimpered—high, needy.

My hips jerked forward.

Lucas hummed against me, the vibration shooting straight through.

He switched sides, mouth closing hot over the other while slick fingers teased the first one—tugging, flicking.

Every pull made me gasp—
 “Haa— Lucas—”

“Good boy,” he murmured, voice low and wrecked.
 “Let me hear how good it feels.”

The words made me tremble harder.

I wasn’t used to this—being praised while someone touched me like I was everything.

My hands slid under his hoodie, found warm skin, hard muscle.

I dragged my nails lightly down his sides.

He shuddered, groaned against my chest—
 “Fuck, Noah—”

He kissed lower, tongue dipping into my navel, slow and teasing, before sinking to his knees.

My heart slammed.

His face hovered at my waist.

Pale eyes looked up—hungry, reverent.

“Lucas…?”

“Are you asking me to stop?”

I shook my head fast.
 “No, but… what are you about to do?”

“Let me show you,” he said, hands on my hips.
 “Please.”

I took a shaky breath.
 “Okay.”

His fingers hooked my boxers.

Slow.

He peeled them down.

They pooled at my ankles.

I stepped out.

And then I was completely bare—hard, flushed, leaking at the tip.

For a second, shame flooded me.

I started to bring my hands down to cover myself, cheeks burning.

Lucas caught my wrists gently, thumbs stroking the insides.

“Don’t hide from me,” he whispered, voice soft but desperate.
 “Please, baby. Let me see you. You’re perfect.”

The way he said it—raw, pleading—pulled me back.

I let my hands fall.
 Let him look.

He exhaled like I’d given him air.

Then he leaned in, pressed soft kisses to the inside of my thigh—higher, higher—until his breath ghosted over me.

“Let me take care of you, Noah.”

He hesitated—just a heartbeat.

My stomach twisted.
 Was he—

“Luc—”

He cut me off.
 “You are so beautiful, Noah. Perfect in every way.”

Before I could answer, his mouth closed around me.

Hot.
 Wet.
 Tight.

“Ah—!”

I gasped, loud and sharp.

He took me deeper, tongue flat, cheeks hollowing.

Suction perfect—slick, filthy.

My fingers flew to his hair, gripping tight.

He bobbed slowly at first, learning me with his tongue, then faster.

Wet sounds filled the room—obscene, desperate.

Every slide sent sparks racing up my spine.

My hips rocked; he met them, throat relaxing, taking me deep.

Whimpers spilled out—high, helpless.

Moans I couldn’t hold back—
 “Haa— oh god— Lucas—”

Whines when he swirled his tongue around the head, sucked hard, dipped into the slit to taste me.

“Good boy,” he rasped, pulling off just long enough to speak, lips shiny.
 “Look at you—falling apart for me.”

The praise made everything clench.

Too much.
 Too good.

My knees buckled.

Lucas released me with a wet pop, surged up, arms banding around my waist to catch me.

His chest heaved against mine.

We stared, breathing ragged, desperate.

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he said, voice wrecked.

Before I could answer, he scooped me up—effortlessly.

One arm under my knees, the other around my back.

My bare skin pressed to his hoodie.

I looped my arms around his neck, buried my face against his throat, breathing him in.

He carried me down the hall, into the bedroom.