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But there’s a big difference between then and now.

Well. More than one, really. First, fourteen-year-old Jack Eggleston didn’t lookanythinglike the man waiting on the opposite side of my front door. And back then, I wasn’t thinking any further into the future than a couple of hours, wondering if that was the night I’d get my first kiss.

I didn’t. Not unless I count the lightning-fast peck on my cheek at the end of the night, which was very much not what I had in mind.

Now, though, my thoughts about the future are much more complex. I keep tossing around different ideas of how things between me and Erik could go.

Will we decide the distance between us is too great and settle on a casual friendship, punctuated by monthly calls and the rare visit? Will we try the long-distance route? I know Erik can’t move away from here, not with his job and commitment to his team. ButIcould move. I could transfer my teaching certification to Texas. I could find a different job in neighboring Seguin or travel further to San Antonio.

Am I getting too far ahead of myself, considering the short time I’ve known him? Should I be using more caution, protecting my heart so I’m not hurt even more badly if things don’t work out between us?

I wish I could talk to someone about it. Not for advice, exactly. Just to get it out. Put voice to my thoughts. But the first person I would have gone to was my mom, and obviously she’s not around. Ally and Julia would be more than glad to listen, but for their safety, I’m not sharing anything more than absolutely necessary with them.

Matt gave me an untraceable phone, so I checked in with Ally and Julia yesterday, just so they wouldn’t worry about not hearing from me for so long. I told them I was taking a long-awaited vacation—not in Texas, I didn’t want to give anything away, so I said I was on the beach in Florida.

And I may have mentioned I met a guy. No details, of course, just that he’s incredibly handsome and sweet and though it’s early, I can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s true. Erik occupies my thoughts all the time. And in the very best way possible.

Once I get to the front door, I practically rip open the locks in my impatience to see him. As I open the door, another burst of nerves hits me. A rare spurt of insecurity has me glancing downat my dress, frantically questioning if I look good in it, like I thought fifteen minutes ago, or it it makes my hips look too big. If I should have worn jeans and a short-sleeved shirt instead, like I did for our last two dates.

But I wanted to look nice. Not like I’m dressed to run errands or hang around the house, but special. Like I spent time trying to look good for Erik.

Then I see him, and all I can focus on is how handsome he is.

Like me, he’s dressed up more than he is normally. Rather than his usual jeans or cargo shorts with a T-shirt, he’s wearing dark gray pants and a short-sleeved blue button down that brings out the color of his eyes. His hair is combed back, the still-damp strands glinting with gold and bronze. He smells delicious—woodsy with a hint of citrus—and as he leans in to kiss me, I catch a hint of sweet mint on his breath.

It’s just a quick kiss, and then Erik pulls back so he can look at me. Appreciation flares in his eyes, the blue darkening and his pupils dilating. His smile slides into something more serious. More intense. “You look absolutely beautiful, Tate.”

I feel my cheeks heating. “You look really handsome, too.”

Erik raises his hand to my cheek and kisses me again, this time lingering for a few seconds. “This dress—” His gaze moves down my body before raising back to my face. That little muscle in his jaw twitches. “It’s going to be hard to keep my eyes off you tonight.”

Heat builds at my core. My nipples draw into peaks. In a husky tone, I reply, “I don’t mind if you look at me.”

Was that sultry voice really me?

I’m not sure I’ve ever spoken to a man like that before.

A corner of his mouth quirks. “Well. I don’t mind if you look at me, either.”

My nerves transform into fizzy bubbles of joy. I grin at him. “Okay, then. We’ll just spend the night staring at each other.”

Erik touches my hip, his warm hand searing through the cotton fabric and into my skin. “That sounds good to me.” He pauses. “Although. It might be hard to eat without looking at the food. Or watch the movie.”

“True.” My smile broadens as I tease, “I guess we’ll just have to muddle through it, won’t we?”

“I suppose we will,” he agrees. As I step back to make space for him to come inside, Erik adds, “Hang on. I brought a few things…”

He disappears into the hallway for a second before reappearing with a huge bouquet of roses in one hand and a gigantic gift bag in the other.

“Erik. You didn’t have to?—”

He walks into the apartment and sets the bag down, locks the door, and picks it up again. “I wanted to, Tate. You deserve presents. Surprises. Things I hope will make you smile.”

Oh.

I think my heart just melted.