Page 127 of Caden & Theo

I raise my eyebrows, pretending innocence. “What?”

“You’ve been on a plane all day. I’ve been waiting for this day. And you want to invite my parents over the second we walk in the door?”

His mom laughs softly, shaking her head. “You two haven’t changed at all.”

“Unbelievable,” his dad mutters, though there’s humor in his voice.

I grin, leaning closer to Caden. “Maybe I just wanted to have a celebratory drink atourhouse.”

His eyes narrow, but he can’t fight the way his mouth tips up at the corner. “You just like making me suffer.”

“Always have,” I whisper, and the way his breath catches makes heat lick up my spine.

From the front seat, his mom clears her throat pointedly. “We’ll take a rain check. You two clearly have… catching up to do.”

I flush, but Caden’s grin turns wicked, like he’s proud of the way she phrased it. His dad chuckles low, steering us off the highway toward our neighborhood.

“Don’t keep him up too late,” his dad says dryly.

Caden groans again. “Dad.”

The laughter that spills through the car is easy, unforced. Sixteen years have gone by, but the rhythm is still here, alive between us all.

When we pull up outside Caden’s house—the house he’s owned for six years but which, starting tonight, will be ours—his mom just twists around in her seat, eyes shining as she looks at me.

“It’s so wonderful to have you home,” she says softly. “With him. That’s what we hoped for.”

Something in me cracks open at her words, and I nod, swallowing hard. “Thank you.”

They hug me quickly across the console, his dad giving Caden a pointed look that makes him groan for the third time. We climb out and haul my suitcases out of the trunk. His parents wave as they drive off toward their own place, headlights sweeping across the street until they’re gone.

And then it’s just us.

Caden leans in before I can grab the bags, kissing me slow and deep, one hand cupping the back of my neck. When he pulls away, his smile is pure trouble. “Finally.”

“Finally,” I echo, and it tastes like forever.

He grabs my hand again, squeezing tightly as we face the front door together. And as I look up at the place that is now our home, I agree.Finally. I’m not just stepping into his life. I’m stepping into ours.