Page 132 of Make Me Yours

Even though friendship is the least of what I want. But she’s fragile right now, and I won’t risk breaking that trust. So, I hold the rest of it back. The weight of how long I’ve loved her.

The ache of not being able to say it yet.

The truth will come out when she’s ready.

And when it does, I’ll be right here, waiting to catch her.

We sit in the quiet as the water cools around us, our skin wet and our hearts beating in sync.

And I know, no matter how long it takes for her to believe it, no matter how many broken pieces we have to gather, I’ll be here through all of it.

Because she’s not just my lucky charm.

She’s my whole damn heart.

And I’ll never let her go.

39

LILAH

The scent in the kitchen wraps around me like an embrace.

There’s the smell of spinach and garlic in the air, something warm and buttery from the granola oat cookies cooling on the counter, as the low sound of my playlist drifts from my phone. I pull the muffin tin out of the oven and smile as the protein-packed egg cups sizzle, the tops golden and puffed up just the way I like them.

Waffles is nestled at the end of the rug, paws tucked under her fuzzy little body, her tail flicking lazily. I glance down at her as I slide the tin onto the stovetop.

“I know,” I murmur to her with a grin. “I’m already becoming that person who talks to her cat. Just wait, I’ll be showing you TikToks next.”

The fridge hums in the background, the smoothie I blended earlier already chilling inside, and the cookies are perfectly crisp at the edges.

For once, everything feels right.

I pad barefoot around Steele’s kitchen, wearing one of his old Western U hockey sweatshirts that hits mid-thigh. The hem brushes my skin as I move, warm and familiar. My hair’s amess, and I’m makeup free. And I’m happier than I’ve been in years.

The run in with Devon was painful, but it allowed me to close the door on that chapter. Now I can focus on other things.

Things that make me happy.

Like cooking.

There’s something about the rhythm of chopping, stirring, and tasting that brings me peace.

And the idea that I’m feeding someone I care about?

Someone who’s become the center of my whole world?

It means everything.

I’m plating the egg cups when Steele’s footsteps echo through the hallway, and my heart stutters in that annoying way it always does now when he’s near.

It’s difficult to remember there was a time when that didn’t happen.

He walks into the kitchen, damp from his shower, smelling like fresh soap and clean skin. His dark hair is pushed back from his face. He’s wearing joggers and a sleeveless Railers tee that shows off his arms.

The way he’s so easily able to command my attention now is seriously unfair.

A grin spreads across his face. “Why’d you sneak out of bed so early?”