He gave me the code to his house a long time ago, but since most of our dates are planned, I’ve never needed to use it. It feels odd to let myself in, but I punch the numbers and open the door. The first thing that catches my attention is the massive bouquet of flowers on the side table to the right. Flowers aren’t a typical decoration for Darren. In fact, knickknacks and decorations in general aren’t Darren’s thing.

His house is pretty much on the extreme side of minimalist. There’s generally no evidence of clutter, or that he even lives here, apart from the occasional mug in the sink or a pair of boxers that missed the laundry basket in his walk-in closet.

Much like the ones that arrived in my office several days ago, this bouquet seems to be keeping with the sunrise theme. It’s filled with pale and vibrant yellows, soft peaches, pinks, and purples. There’s a card beside the vase with my name written neatly on the front. I flip it open and smile at the note inside.

The restless pinging down below ratchets up a few notches as I consider what exactly his something more comfortable might consist of. Taking the note with me, I head upstairs to his bedroom, which is where I’m assuming the something more comfortable will be.

I bark out a quiet, shocked laugh when I step inside his bedroom and turn on the light. The very first thing I notice is a second bouquet of flowers, which contrasts perfectly with the one downstairs. Instead of a sunrise, this is more sunset with a cascade of yellow, darkening to vibrant peach and nearly black purple lilies and dahlias at the base.

The flowers aren’t the only addition to the room, though. Laid across the end of the bed are several clothing options. I expected lace or satin, or possibly some combination of the two. But that’s not what I’m looking at.

It appears Darren has done some shopping at my favorite legging store. There are five new pairs. Two of them are ridiculously adorable and firefly themed, and the others are covered in fun pastel prints reflective of the season. He’s also gone to the trouble of buying matching tanks and shirts, and a vast array of new cheekies in every color, pattern, and fabric available.

In addition to those, there’s a black gift bag tied with a bow. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to open that now or wait, so I leave it and pick a pair of leggings, a shirt, and a pair of panties to change into. They’re freshly washed, as evidenced by the distinct smell of Darren’s fabric softener.

I head back downstairs to wait for him and find yet another surprise in the living room. Set up on the table beside the reading chair he bought for me is a bucket with a bottle of white wine chilling and a glass waiting to be filled. Several books are stacked on the seat of the chair, their spines creased from my excessive reading and pages folded over. Sometimes, when I love a book I’ll earmark certain chapters or passages so I can find them easily and read them over.

Darren must have scooped them from my nightstand and brought them here for me. I press my fingers to my lips, my chest light and heavy at the same time. His attentiveness is endearing, and while part of me loves it, the other part worries about what it means. So many things are changing, and I don’t know quite how to handle it. The neat lines we’d drawn seem to be erasing themselves, and I don’t know how to do this without them. It makes me feel unsteady.

With shaking hands, I pull the cork free and pour myself a glass of wine. I take a small sip and moan. This is way better than that boxed stuff my mom brought with her. I actually considered tossing the rest of it, but figured it was too much of a waste, so I mixed it with ginger ale and juice. Then it wasn’t so bad.

I grab my phone and my ear buds, because I might as well enjoy the lengths Darren has gone to for me.

Moving the books to the table, I relax into the chair, cover myself with the throw, and sigh contentedly. On the next inhale, I note the faint scent of Darren’s cologne clinging to the fabric. I turn my head and press my nose against the backrest. I’m not sure if I’m imagining things, but I swear it smells like his shampoo, which means he’s been using the chair when I’m not here.

I slip in my ear buds, pick a playlist, and settle in with a book, flipping to one of my many favorite chapters. I like to read romance, maybe because my childhood was such a mess and the kind of relationships I witnessed weren’t normal. I like the smutty ones as much as the sweet ones, but my favorite stories have the most broken characters. Even though it’s fiction, it gives me hope that even the most messed up people can find someone to love them.

I’m on my second glass of wine, rereading my second favorite chapter when a shadow passes over my book. I startle as I look up to find Darren standing in front of me, and I nearly douse myself in wine.

He grabs the glass before I dump it in my lap, a wry smile forming as he tugs my ear buds free.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” I look him over. He’s wearing black jeans, and a T-shirt that hugs his biceps and stretches tight across his chest.

“I gathered that from your reaction. You look cozy.” He takes a sip from my glass.

“So cozy.” I close my book and set it on the table.

“Can I see which ones you picked?” He tugs at the end of the blanket so it slips down a few inches.

“You went a little overboard, but thank you.” I pull the throw off, and Darren’s grin widens.

I grip the arms of the chair to push myself up.

He raises a hand. “No, no. Stay right here.”

“Okay?” I draw the word out as I drop back down.

He drags a finger from my ankle to my knee. “This is nice—you right here, looking like it’s where you belong.”

I shift over and pat the seat cushion. “Why don’t you join me? There’s plenty of room.” The chair is huge, and round. There’s more than enough room for two bodies, even if one of them belongs to a huge hockey player.

“Let me get a glass.”

“Or we could share mine?”

“We could definitely do that.” He adjusts my legs so they’re draped over his and stretches one arm across the back. Sliding his palm up my thigh, he runs his nose along my neck and follows with his lips. “I like you being here when I get home.”

I laugh and then sigh as his lips trail along the edge of my jaw and across my cheek. When he reaches the corner of my mouth I turn toward him, our lips brushing.

His rough fingers glide gently up my arm and thread into the hair at the nape of my neck. The kiss starts slow, the warm soft drag of his tongue becoming a sweet tangle. I have no idea how long we kiss, but eventually Darren pulls back, his thumb sweeping back and forth across my bottom lip, his breath coming hard.

“How was your day?” he grinds out.

I laugh and twist in his grip so I can straddle his thighs. “Long.” Knowing he was back in Chicago but having to wait to see him made the day pass more slowly than usual.

“Same.” He settles his palms on my hips. “But this makes it worth it.”

“Making out in my reading chair?” I reach for the glass of wine and take a sip.

“Just you being here period. But the making out is nice too.” He watches as I take another sip. “I’d like some of that.”

I raise the glass, expecting him to take it, but he doesn’t. Instead he parts his lips and cocks one sinister eyebrow.

“I might spill it on you,” I warn.

“It’s white. I’ll take the risk.”

I tip the glass up until the wine reaches the edge, wetting his lips. My tongue is caught between my teeth, my smile wide as I lift the tiniest bit too high and it trickles out of the edge of the glass and down his chin.

“Told you.” I set the glass on the side table, nearly missing since I’m paying more attention to Darren’s mouth than what I’m actually doing. I catch the drip with my tongue, then kiss the wine away, but when I get to his lips I pull back.

Darren’s apparently not having it, because I suddenly find myself airborne. I land on my back on the chair, Darren’s mouth on mine as he parts my legs with his knee and sinks his hips into mine.

Half an hour later, I’ve had three orgasms and I’m back in my spot on the chair with my legs thrown over his, except now we’re both mostly naked. Well, I’m totally naked, but Darren put his boxers back on. He tucks the blanket around me. “I’d planned to take you upstairs before I got inside you.”

“So I could dress up in whatever’s in that black bag on the bed?”

His brow pulls down. “Haven’t you opened it?”

“Was I supposed to? I thought since it was wrapped I would wait until you were here.”

“You can open it before we go to sleep since that’s when it’ll come in handy.” He reaches over and picks up the single wine glass, offering it to me before he takes a sip.

I run my fingers through his hair and his head drops back, eyes falling closed. When he’s like this, unguarded and at ease, he looks much less severe. “How are you feeling about the game tomorrow night?”

He runs one hand slowly up and down my thigh. “Truthfully?”

“Unless you feel like you need to lie to me about it to make yourself feel better.”

He cracks a lid and a smile, then lifts his head. His smile disappears and his eyes seem to trace over my face. “Worried.”

“You played really well last night.”