IF I HADN'T MET PETER, something important would be missing in my life. However, I didn't know that when I was dating countless guys ─ including, unfortunately, Gavin and Hunter ─ and didn't know Peter at all.

I didn't know it until he brought me to Sydney's and my flat at the party where Dean was arrested and made no move to kiss me. 

Because any other guy would have taken advantage of the situation. 

I've been sad because Dean was taken away and the police took Sydney in for interrogation. I have never felt more helpless than I did at that moment. Apart from the fact that I am a terrible driver, I could hardly get into my car, drive to the New Haven Police Department and storm the building. 

I remember very clearly what Peter said to me at the time. "Sydney and Dean are strong, Bronwyn. They can handle pretty much anything." 

"You're right, they are," I replied quietly as I had to use the flat door behind me as a prop to keep from falling over. 

Sydney and Dean are truly the strongest people I know. They've gone through so much and yet all the craziness caused by Kolin, Xander, Gavin, and Hunter only seems to bring them closer together.

They are so in love with each other that I would have to roll my eyes whenever I was around them if I wasn't so happy for them that I could even jump in the air at that moment. 

I remember exactly how fast my heart suddenly started beating when Peter came closer to me the night Dean was taken away. I had to brace myself against the door of my flat to keep from falling over and this reaction is completely out of character for me. I don't think any man has ever managed to trigger it in me. 

Peter gently wiped a stray tear from my cheek with his thumb, never taking his eyes off me. "You're strong too, Bronwyn." 

I knew exactly what he was talking about. The only people who know about my knee injury are Sydney, Dean, and Peter. I loved dancing so much as a little kid ─ it was my life. Even though my parents put so much pressure on me with lessons and meal plans, it was my hobby, my absolute passion. After the injury I sustained during my last performance, the doctors were sure that I would never be able to dance again if I didn't want to ruin my knee for good. 

And so my love of fashion was born, even though Mom and Dad shake their heads disapprovingly every time I tell them about my studies. "If you had practiced better, you wouldn't have been hurt, and then you wouldn't have had to live with this .... Emergency solution of fashion management." 

With these thoughts, I get the urge to slap something in my parents' faces. Nothing that would hurt them, but just something that would cover their serious faces. Like a cream pie, for example ─

"Do I want to know what you're thinking about right now? Because you're smiling a bit scarily ..." 

Peter Wardwell sits next to me on the small bench with a colorful deciduous tree towering over him, red, brown, and yellow leaves falling from it every second. His dark hair is tangled and hangs down into his forehead, making him look a little playful. The brown eyes are patiently on me, inspecting every movement on my face. Then he blushes and quickly averts his eyes. 

Smiling, I scoot a little closer to him, blocking out the screams and music of the theme park in front of us. Lake Compounce is one of the places Dean has been dying to see.

He and Sydney are on one of the huge roller coasters, which she is afraid of but went with him anyway for Dean's sake. The two of them are really enjoying their freedom to the fullest. 

And I plan to do exactly the same.

"Why don't you try to guess my thoughts?", I ask Peter, challenging him with my eyes. He can never know that I have pictured myself throwing cakes in my parents' faces. 

He squints his eyes thoughtfully and plucks at the pink candyfloss he is holding in his left hand. "I could guess, but not very decent things would come out of it." 

"You definitely spend way too much time with Dean." 

Laughing, I take a bite of his candyfloss, at which he goes wide-eyed. He tears off another piece and holds it in front of my mouth. "How many tries do I have to guess your thoughts?" 

"I'll give you three." Smiling mysteriously, I take the candyfloss into my mouth, however, some is still stuck to Peter's fingers. Without a hint of hesitation, I bend over again and lick the rest of the candyfloss off his hand. 

Peter moans softly. "You really want to kill me." 

"Never." Smiling, I lean back again and let my gaze roam over Peter's body. He's not extremely broad or packed with muscle, but something about him keeps making me want to jump him. Maybe it's those long fingers I've just been allowed to lick or his toned stomach that you can see under that thin jumper, that make me go all crazy. 

Now I can at least understand Sydney because she and Dean can hardly last ten minutes without touching each other briefly. 

Peter is also eyeing me, but he restrains himself from undressing me with his eyes. Unlike me. "Have you thought about Sydney and Dean?" 

"Only slightly," I reply victoriously. He really will never guess. 

"About your parents?" Alarmed, I look at him, which he takes as a yes. Thoughtfully, he touches his chin.

"Since you smiled so scary, I'm guessing you weren't thinking about your next Thanksgiving."

I almost groaned out loud because I don't feel like visiting my parents on Thanksgiving. I would even go so far as to say that it is the worst day of the year for me. "Please don't remind me of this holiday, Peter. I'm thinking of telling them some lies. Maybe I should say I was bitten by your new turtle and am badly injured or something." 

He takes a deep breath. "Herbert would never bite you!"

"But he can pee on my hand all the time, or what?", I mutter more to myself. 

"That's what turtles do when they're nervous," he explains, looking so cute that I instantly smile. He notices and returns my smile with a barely noticeable flash in his eyes. "He's not the only one who gets nervous around you, by the way." 

"You helpless romantic." Again, I take a bite of the candyfloss and lick the sticky sweetness off my fingers. "What are you doing for Thanksgiving anyway?" 

Peter stares at my lips for a moment, then scratches his head sheepishly. "You know, if you're not planning on going to your parents' house, then ..." 

"Then ...?" I say. 

"Then you can spend Thanksgiving at mine."

I don't know what I was expecting, but it certainly hasn't been that. And although I always show my strongest side in front of everyone else, Peter often sees the opposite of that from me. 

So I do something that surprises him and me: I start to cry. 

He immediately puts the candyfloss down and wraps me in his arms. His body is amazingly warm and somehow feels safe and cared for, stopping my tears almost immediately. Uncertainly, I lift my head but don't let go of him. "Would you really be okay with that?" 

"Why wouldn't it be okay?" Almost in disbelief, he shakes his head. "Bronwyn, I would be honored to introduce you to my parents. Why do you look so surprised? I ... thought it was crystal clear that I like you. Very much."

Sniffling, I wipe my tears away. No one has ever treated me the way he does. I've never been anyone's top priority, if anything I've been a bonus to be used from time to time.

Peter makes me feel good ─ good enough. He's also often nervous and blushes, but at the same time, he can be so confident that it sometimes leaves me speechless. He sees the good in everyone, even Candice, about whom I no longer think as badly as I did at the beginning. 

I've known it for a while, but I'm only now saying the words, "I'm so fucking in love with you, Pee." 

He lets out a hoarse laugh that goes through my marrow. "Could you maybe say that again without Dean's nickname?" 

"Only if it means we get in your car and get out of here." 

Peter shakes his head, smiling, as if he can't believe I've confessed my love to him, then leans into me and finally places his lips on mine. He kisses me softly, gently, and tenderly and yet I melt on that bench and make no attempt to deepen the kiss. But when I tentatively feel his tongue, I willingly open my lips and pull him closer to me. 

He moans softly and I have to suppress my own noises so that I can hear it too and enjoy it to the fullest. His right hand is on my waist and now slides a little higher until he hesitantly strokes my breast with his thumb. 

"I love you too, by the way," he whispers suddenly, smirking against my lips. "Ever since you stumbled into my very first lecture and laughed at yourself, I've loved you."

"I didn't stumble ─" 

Peter's next kiss is anything but gentle. It's intense and determined and I like it so much that now I'm the one moaning. He kisses like he's drinking from me like I'm the last sip of water keeping him alive. My muscles weaken and my heart hammers so hard against my chest that I'm sure he can feel it. 

"Maybe I haven't been clear enough," I bring out between his kisses. Breathing heavily, I pull away from him and immediately place my hands against his beautiful face.

"I really want to get in your car now and go to the apartment." 

"And leave Sydney and Dean here alone by themselves?" he asks in surprise, but then pauses as I run my fingers slowly over his waistband. "Okay, I'm in."

I look at Sydney, who is standing further away and seems to notice that there is a lot of sexual tension between Peter and me that needs to be released very quickly now. At least that's what I'm trying to convey to her with my eyes.

She presses her hand over her mouth laughing, then grabs Dean's arm with the other and leads him to some shooting stand.

He is immediately on fire for it and pays no attention to the fact that Peter and I are already walking towards the car.

We can pick up Sydney and Dean later. In a couple of hours, I guess. 

Or maybe tomorrow.

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