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And I’m about to head into the living room, but he doesn’t let go of my arm.

Instead, he rubs his thumb against my wrist in a subtle pattern that melts me and turns me on at the same time.

My heart speeds up, and I wish fervently he’d yank me against him and kiss me—a quick, chaste kiss that would be a promise of more.

But he doesn’t of course. We have rules that we’re mostly not breaking. “Remember what I said the other night? When we sit down at the table?” he says, his voice low and raspy, his eyes fiery with the reminders of the way we fucked the other night.

A rush of pleasure zings through me. “Oh, I remember.”

“Me too. It’s all I can think about—how you looked when I bent you over the counter. I’m going to be thinking about the way you sound when you come as you’re eating my risotto. Well, when I’m not thinking about that kitten.”

I laugh. “Do you even like kittens?”

“What do you think I am? A monster?”

“I don’t know. You’ve never talked about kittens before.”

“Well, watch out. I’m gonna be talking about them now. Why don’t you check your email? Maybe you got something in the last few minutes.”

I roll my eyes, but I’m totally loving his pre-smitten-ness. I take out my phone and check. It’s empty.

His shoulders sag. “Soon,” he says, and I’m hopeful too.

Before I can retreat to the living room to join my friend, Tyler’s mother wanders into the kitchen. “So, how’s all that dating going, Sabrina?”

The question makes me go rigid. What the hell do I say to her? Tyler gives me a look that could wither mountains, but I don’t know what it means. We’ve never talked about what we’re saying to his mother. And I wait for him to say something.

But he doesn’t. The green-eyed jealousy I saw before in him flares again. So I step in and improvise. “I haven’t really met anyone I’ve wanted to go out with.”

Lauren sighs, like she’s bummed for me. “Really? No one?”

And impulsively, since that’s my middle name, I go for it. “Well…there’s one guy. But it’s complicated.”

“Why is it complicated?”

How do I even begin? I start to answer, but she cuts in with, “Is Tyler being difficult about you dating?”

That gets Tyler’s attention immediately. He nods to her, gesturing toward the hallway, then pulls her aside.

I’m dying to know what he’s saying.

Dying.

I take my time heading to the living room, furtively stealing glances at the two of them.

I can’t make out their words—they’re talking too quietly.

But there’s real emotion in his warm eyes—a plea maybe for his mother to understand his situation?

His mother exhales, like she’s making peace with something, then opens her arms and gives him a hug.

My throat catches as I watch them embrace. His love for his children is all his, of course. But he learned it too. From her, from his brother, from his sister. From all this love around him. And I love that about him.

Later, when we’re all at the table, passing ceramic dishes of mashed potatoes and scooping seconds of a fantastic mushroom risotto, and food moaning over these delicious Brussels sprouts, Birdie clears her throat and says to me, “Did you know Tyler used to have a thing for Allison Marchand ?”

I blink, then turn my gaze toward the man who pays my checks. “The figure skater? Who won a silver medal in the Olympics?”

“The one and only,” Birdie answers.

Tyler lowers his face, groaning as his family cackles.

“He was so enamored with her,” Charlie pipes in. “He had a poster on his wall and everything. He couldn’t stop watching her compete, Sabrina.”

“Weird,” Parker says. Because he’s not one to say ew , though it’s clear that’s what he means.

But to me this news is delightful. “Tell me more.”

Trevyn raises a finger. “And leave out no detail,” he adds.

“My dad and I watch figure skating together all the time,” Luna puts in as she grabs a buttery roll.

I sort of knew this—his figure skating interest—but I also didn’t really know how far back it went, or how deep. “And you’ve always been into this?” I ask Tyler, but inside I’m thinking— his nighttime habits with my video make even more sense now .

Tyler doesn’t need to answer since his mom is here to handle it. “He watched every televised competition she was in when he was younger,” his mother supplies, far too pleased to share this .

Lauren Falcon is such a troublemaker, and I adore her for it.

I have a million more questions for him.

But then my phone buzzes in my back pocket, loud and obnoxious. Shoot. I forgot to silence it.

From across the table, Tyler points at me. “You’d better check, in case that’s it.”

“I don’t want to open it in the middle of dinner,” I whisper back, but there’s no point. Everyone can hear us.

“What if it’s the kitten?” he says, in a tone that brooks no argument.

“Is a kitten texting you now?” Leighton asks.

“Sabrina, check it,” Parker puts in with more urgency than I’d expected.

“Is it them? Is it them? Is it them?” Luna begs.

Clearly, there’s no way to ignore this. I take out my phone and beam when I spot a message from Nia, the foster coordinator at the animal rescue.

I read it out loud, trying to rein in my excitement. “We know it’s Thanksgiving, but we got these new little cuties on our steps. Can you foster one of them? We need a foster for the next couple weeks.”

Tyler looks at me with so much intensity I’d swear he just scored a goal. “Say yes. Say it now.”

And Luna and Parker just about lose their minds as I do.

Later, as everyone zones out to a Christmas movie on TV, I help Tyler in the kitchen with the last of the cleanup, then turn to him, something still nagging at me, but not in a bad way. More like I can’t stop thinking about it. “What was that all about with your mother? When you pulled her aside? ”

He sighs, peers around, then says quietly, “I told her she has to stop asking you about your dating.”

“Why?” I press since I can’t resist.

His eyes are fiery. His tone, firm. “Because I can’t stand hearing it.”

My heart stutters. “Did you tell her…about us?”

“Some of the truth,” he admits. “Not the private details. But that I’ve had it bad for you for a very long time,” he admits.

A flutter moves through me, even though I already knew how he felt. He’d told me our first night together he’d wanted to ask me out. To take me to mini golf or a baseball game. But hearing him say it again? It’s a lovely reminder.

Trouble is, the more he says sweet, swoony things, the more I start to want them—those dates, those nights, those times with him.

What if I let myself want them? Just for a second?

But I have to ignore that want. There are too many other things at stake. The job. His kids. His life is one thing; mine is another.

“What did she say?” I ask, trying to focus on the conversation.

“She said she’s not surprised.” He exhales, a wry twist to his lips. “My brother and sister teased me about my crush before you even started. But my mom also said I shouldn’t stand in the way of you being happy.”

My heart sinks a little.

I get it. Truly, I do.

And he’s not standing in the way of my happiness. He’s making me happy. But he’s also making it clear—that this thing between us is just this . And it’s not ever going to be something else.

And that’s fine by me.

Isn’t it ?

I have plans for myself. A life I’m rebuilding. A business I’m growing. And I’m doing it all alone—with no family to support me. Just friends, like Trevyn and Leighton, Isla and Skylar. Friends who are like family.

But I can’t mistake Tyler’s family for my own.

They belong to him.

I don’t belong to anyone.

The next morning, he goes with me and the kids to pick up a kitten at Little Friends. All at once, four people fall in love at the same time with a two-pound black-and-white creature with a pink nose, white paws, and the loudest meow in the world.

Inside the shelter, Tyler reaches into the kennel through the grates and scratches the little critter’s ears. “Hey, Drama,” he says to the tiny thing. “We’re going to take care of you till you find a family.”

We’re .

This kitten was never just mine, and that’s more than okay with me.

Even though as we drive home, a dark thought flits through my mind—am I getting too comfortable with my life here with them?