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“It’s her favorite food. Tofu bao.”

“Can’t be that hard to make,” Camden says. “Let’s look it up.”

And that’s how Camden, Meyer, and I wind up spending the afternoon making tofu bao a dozen times before we get it right.

I box up the meal and smile at my friends. “Thanks, guys. I owe you one.”

“No problem,” Camden mumbles, eating one of our failed attempts at the dish.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Meyer says as he wipes down the kitchen counter. “Now, go get your girl.”

I smile and grab the food. “Lock up when you leave!”

They both wish me good luck as I head out.

I drive to Blake’s apartment and take the stairs two at a time. Knocking on the door, I take a deep breath as I wait for her to answer.

I practiced what I wanted to say with my friends all afternoon, but as soon as the door opens, all my words disappear.

“I messed up,” I blurt.

Blake blinks. Her green eyes reflect hurt before becoming guarded. I hate that I’m the cause of that hurt.

“Last night, I messed up. Or maybe it was days ago when we first made the date bet.”

“Wow, okay,” she says, her hand tightening on the door.

“Not like that. I mean, I should have told you how I felt instead of playing games.”

She pauses, her grip on the door loosening as she stares at me.

“I…I made you tofu bao,” I say, shoving the Tupperware at her.

“You made it?”

“Yeah. You can’t order it anywhere around here. I’ve checked.”

“Thanks,” she says sincerely. “That was sweet of you.”

“It’s nothing. I…I want you, Blake. Any way I can have you. But I don’t want you to think I’m only sleeping with you to win a bet. If we have sex, it’s because this is real.”

“It is real,” she says softly. She steps back, grabs my shirt, and tugs me inside before closing the door. “I want you,” she whispers. “For real.”

I swallow hard. “We can go on more dates.”

“We’ve been dating since the diner. The hikes, the errands, and coffee. All the dinners and movies. They were dates. We were just too scared to call them that. Now kiss me,” she orders.

I do as she commands eagerly.

My mouth crashes into hers like I’ve been starving for her—because I have. Her lips are soft and warm, familiar and new all at once. She tastes like mint and mischief, and the way she melts into me makes something primal snap inside my chest.

I wrap my arms around her, pulling her flush against me, and she lets out a soft moan that nearly brings me to my knees. She slides her hands into my hair, tugging just enough to drive me insane. I growl against her mouth, pressing her back until she bumps into the apartment door

“Bedroom,” I mutter, breaking the kiss long enough to take the food from her and set it on the kitchen counter as we stumble toward the bedroom.

She giggles, breathless and beautiful, and tugs me into the room with her. The second the door clicks shut behind us, we’re on each other again.

I back her against the wall, one hand finding her hip, the other threading into her hair as I kiss her like I’ve waited a lifetime. Maybe I have. She’s everything—fire and softness and stubborn sweetness—and I don’t want to wait another second.