The past few weeks had been full of classes, late-night study sessions, and intense rehearsals for Swan Lake. It was the final performance of the school year, and this time, I wasn't nervous.

I had done Swan Lake before, and I loved it. The elegance, the tragic beauty of Odette's story, the delicate yet powerful movements—it was one of my favorite ballets.

I knew my role. I knew every pirouette, every extension, every lift.

For the first time, I felt completely confident.

But today, I had something else on my mind.

Because today was Valentine's Day.

And Bryan was acting weird.

I was stretching in the studio, my muscles warm and loose from my morning class, when a knock echoed at the door.

I turned just in time to see Isabella push it open, peeking her head inside with a giant grin.

"Amber," she sang, her voice full of mischief.

I narrowed my eyes. "What?"

"You have a delivery."

I frowned, sitting up. "A delivery?"

She giggled, stepping aside.

And that's when I saw it.

The biggest bouquet of roses I had ever seen.

Like, obnoxiously big.

I gawked, my heart jumping straight into my throat.

The poor delivery guy looked slightly exhausted from carrying it. "Uh, Amber Lee?"

I scrambled to my feet, rushing over. "That's me."

The guy handed it over, and I almost tipped over from the weight.

Isabella cackled. "Oh my God, Bryan went overboard."

I dug through the sea of red petals, finally finding the small card tucked inside.

"For my Ballerina. You already know I had to be extra. Happy Valentine's Day. - Bryan"

I bit my lip, warmth spreading through my chest.

Of course he would do something like this.

Dramatic. Over-the-top. Impossible to ignore.

Just like him.

I looked up, only to find Isabella watching me like I was a science experiment.

"What?" I asked.

She smirked. "You're so in love it's disgusting."

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't fight the smile creeping onto my lips.

Because she wasn't wrong.

Later that afternoon, I was walking out of the studio, still slightly dazed from rehearsal, when I spotted Bryan leaning against the wall outside, waiting for me.

His black hoodie. His usual smirk. His arms crossed like he had all the time in the world.

My heart fluttered.

"Hey," he greeted, pushing off the wall and strolling toward me.

I lifted the bouquet still in my arms. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

His smirk widened. "You like it though."

I huffed. "I love it."

His smugness tripled. "Good."

He reached out, grabbing my hand, intertwining our fingers like it was second nature.

"Come on," he said, tugging me toward the exit. "Got plans for you."

I raised an eyebrow. "You planned something?"

"Of course." He shot me a side glance. "What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?"

Boyfriend.

Even now, months later, it still made my stomach flip.

I squeezed his hand. "Fine. Where are we going?"

Bryan grinned, completely unbothered. "Not telling."

I sighed dramatically. "You're so dumb."

"And you love it."

I rolled my eyes. "Unfortunately."

He laughed, pulling me closer, kissing the side of my head as we walked.

And honestly?

I didn't care where we were going.

As long as it was with him.

Bryan didn't let go of my hand the entire walk, his grip firm, his thumb brushing slow circles against my skin like he was just as comfortable touching me as he was breathing.

I didn't know where we were going. He refused to tell me.

Every time I tried to ask, he would either change the subject, kiss me as a distraction, or smirk like he enjoyed watching me suffer.

Typical.

We walked a few blocks off campus, away from the busy cafés and crowded restaurants that were overflowing with couples. The air was crisp but not freezing, and with my coat wrapped around me and Bryan by my side, I barely noticed the cold.

After a few more turns, Bryan finally came to a stop in front of a small, cozy-looking place tucked between two taller buildings.

I blinked at the soft string lights hanging above the entrance, the warm glow from inside, the faint sound of classical music drifting through the doors.

"Wait," I said, my brain catching up.

Bryan grinned, yanking the door open and nodding for me to go inside.

I hesitated, staring at him. "This is—"

"A ballet café?" Bryan finished for me. "Yeah. Thought you'd like it."

I gawked at him.

I had mentioned this place once. Months ago.

It was a little café owned by an ex-ballet dancer, designed for dancers to have a space to relax, study, and eat without worrying about breaking their diet before a show. I had always wanted to come, but I never had time.

And now we were here.

My chest tightened, warmth flooding through me.

"You remembered," I whispered.

Bryan rolled his eyes, nudging me inside. "Of course I remembered, Lee. You never shut up about ballet."

I elbowed him, but I couldn't fight the smile tugging at my lips.

Inside, the space was warm, intimate, filled with soft chatter and the scent of fresh pastries. The walls were lined with old ballet posters and signed pointe shoes from professional dancers.

The moment we stepped in, a woman behind the counter lit up.

"Bryan!" she greeted, her eyes flicking to me with a knowing smile. "And you must be Amber."

I blinked. "You know me?"

She laughed. "I know of you." Then she looked back at Bryan. "You talk about her a lot."

I snapped my head toward him, grinning.

Bryan groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. "Thanks for that, Claudia."

I giggled, nudging him. "You talk about me?"

Bryan grumbled something under his breath.

Claudia winked at me before grabbing two menus. "Your table's ready. Follow me."

The café wasn't big, but Bryan had managed to get a small table tucked into the corner, away from most of the other people. It was quiet, private, perfect.

Once we sat down, I couldn't stop smiling.

I kept glancing at the menu, then back at him, then back at the menu.

Bryan arched an eyebrow. "What?"

I shook my head, biting my lip. "Nothing. I just..." I glanced around again. "I really love this."

Something in Bryan's expression shifted. The teasing glint in his eyes softened slightly, replaced by something warmer, deeper.

He shrugged, glancing down at his menu. "Good."

I watched him for a moment, my heart squeezing a little too tightly.

"You act like a tough guy," I mused, tapping my fingers against the table. "But you're really a softie, huh?"

Bryan scoffed. "Not even close."

I tilted my head. "So you didn't bring me to a ballet-themed café because you knew I'd love it?"

He flipped a page in his menu. "Coincidence."

"And you didn't get me the biggest bouquet of roses I've ever seen?"

"Could've been anyone."

"And you definitely don't talk about me enough that random people know my name?"

Bryan glared at me over his menu. "Do you want food or not, Ballerina?"

I giggled, reaching across the table and taking his hand. "I love you, you know that?"

His grip tightened slightly around mine.

He didn't hesitate. "I love you too."

Bryan walked me back to my dorm, his hand in mine, our steps slow and unhurried. The night air was crisp but not cold, and the glow of the campus lights gave everything a soft, golden hue.

The café had been perfect. More than perfect. It was thoughtful, sweet, and so completely Bryan—pretending like he wasn't a softie while simultaneously proving he absolutely was.

I squeezed his hand, glancing up at him. "You know, for someone who acts like he doesn't care about Valentine's Day, you're really going all out."

Bryan snorted, shaking his head. "Don't get used to it, Ballerina. This is a one-time deal."

I grinned. "Sure, sure."

When we reached my dorm, I pulled out my key, unlocking the door without a second thought. But the second I stepped inside—

I froze.

My room... was transformed.

There were flowers everywhere, soft rose petals scattered across my bed and floor, fairy lights glowing dimly in the background, and on my desk, a neatly placed laptop screen paused on my favorite movie.

I gasped, my heart jumping into my throat.

"What—how—" I spun to look at Bryan, who was leaning casually against the doorframe, watching me with that smug little smirk.

"Surprise," he said, his voice smooth, easy, like this wasn't a big deal.

I gawked at him. "You—Bryan, how did you—"

Then, it hit me.

I narrowed my eyes. "Isabella."

Bryan chuckled, stepping into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. "Maybe."

I whipped out my phone, immediately opening my messages.

Me: ISABELLA MARTINE.Izzy: happy valentine's day, bestie! 😘 don't do anything I wouldn't do!!Me: I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU HELPED HIM WITH THISIzzy: I absolutely can. You love it. Cry about it.

I groaned, shoving my phone in my pocket.

Bryan raised an eyebrow. "What, you don't like it?"

I whipped around, rushing toward him, throwing my arms around his neck.

He laughed as I jumped into his arms, his hands immediately finding my waist, holding me firmly against him.

"I love it, you idiot," I muttered before crashing my lips onto his.

Bryan groaned into the kiss, his grip on me tightening, steadying me against him.

I could feel his smirk between kisses, like he knew he had completely ruined me tonight.

"Good," he murmured, his hands sliding lower, gripping my thighs, hoisting me up effortlessly.

I gasped, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively.

"You're so extra," I whispered against his lips.

Bryan chuckled, walking us over to my bed, his fingers teasing against the hem of my sweater.

"Only for you, Ballerina," he murmured.

And when he laid me down, his weight pressing over me, his lips trailing down my neck

Bryan's weight pressed over me, his lips trailing down my jaw, my neck, slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world.

I tilted my head back, giving him more access, my fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer.

"You're stupid," I whispered, my breath already shaky, uneven.

Bryan chuckled, his lips brushing against my collarbone. "You're the one who just jumped on me."

I rolled my eyes, about to respond—but then his hands slipped under my sweater.

His fingers skated over my bare skin, sliding up my stomach, teasing, not rushing.

I shivered, my back arching slightly into his touch.

Bryan hummed against my skin. "So sensitive tonight, my love."

I huffed, my grip tightening in his hair. "Shut up and kiss me."

He smirked against my throat, but he listened.

His lips crashed against mine, hot, deep, consuming. His tongue slid against mine, slow, teasing, coaxing me into matching his pace.

I was losing myself in him—the way he kissed me, the way he touched me, the way he made me feel like I was the only thing that mattered.

And then, in one swift movement, he pulled back and tugged my sweater over my head.

I gasped at the cool air hitting my skin, but before I could even react, Bryan's mouth was on me again.

He kissed down my chest, his lips soft, slow, trailing heat wherever he touched. His hands slid up my sides, gripping my waist, holding me down as his tongue flicked over the sensitive peak of my breast.

I let out a soft moan, my fingers gripping his shoulders.

Bryan groaned against my skin. "You always sound so pretty for me."

I felt my face heat, but any response I had died when he took my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue circling in slow, lazy strokes.

My breath hitched, my hips rocking up into him instinctively.

Bryan chuckled, pulling back just slightly, his lips brushing against my heated skin.

"Someone's impatient."

I whined, already on the verge of losing my mind. "Bryan—"

He kissed his way down my stomach, his hands sliding to my hips, gripping the waistband of my leggings.

"You know the rules, baby," he murmured, his voice dark, teasing, full of promise."Use your words."

Bryan's lips trailed lower, his breath hot against my skin, sending shivers straight down my spine.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of my leggings, tugging them down agonizingly slow, his lips brushing over my stomach, then lower.

I swallowed, my heart pounding against my ribs.

"Bryan..."

He hummed against my skin, his hands sliding down my thighs, pushing them apart as he settled between them.

My breath hitched.

I was bare now—completely exposed.

And Bryan?

He was taking his time.

His dark eyes flicked up, watching me, smirking slightly like he could feel the way my pulse raced under his touch.

"You're shaking, Ballerina." His voice was silk and smoke, dark with amusement.

I clenched the sheets, my breath ragged. "Because you're teasing me."

He chuckled, gripping my thighs, his thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles against my skin.

"That's because I like watching you fall apart."

Then, without another word—he leaned in.

His lips pressed to my inner thigh first, kissing, sucking, biting gently, sending warmth flooding through me.

I sucked in a sharp breath.

His mouth moved higher.

I could feel his breath ghosting over my heat, the anticipation twisting inside me, making my thighs tremble.

And then—his tongue flicked out, dragging slow, deliberate strokes over my clit.

A sharp cry tore from my throat, my hips jerking instinctively.

Bryan's hands pressed down on my hips, pinning me to the mattress.

"Easy, baby," he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his mouth still so close, still sending warm puffs of breath over my sensitive skin. "I'm just getting started."

I whimpered, my fingers clutching at the sheets, trying to breathe.

Then, his tongue flattened against me, licking a slow, deep stroke.

My vision blurred.

I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything except feel.

He was so good, too good—his tongue moving in slow, precise circles, his lips sucking gently, pulling pleasure tighter and tighter inside me.

I moaned, archiving against the sheets.

Bryan groaned against my skin. "You taste so fucking sweet," he muttered, his voice muffled and full of hunger.

His grip tightened on my thighs as he deepened his movements, his tongue dipping lower, licking, teasing, tasting.

I was spiraling fast, my body trembling, completely at his mercy.

"Bryan," I gasped, my fingers threading into his hair, tugging, trying to ground myself.

He groaned at that, his tongue flicking faster, his lips sucking harder, pushing me closer, closer—

My body tightened, the coil in my stomach pulling impossibly tight.

I was right there, right on the edge—

And then Bryan stopped.

I let out a desperate whimper, my hips bucking up, searching for friction.

Bryan chuckled, gripping my thighs harder, holding me down.

"Not yet, amor." His voice was low, commanding.

I whined, frustrated beyond belief.

"Bryan, please—"

He smirked, blowing a soft breath against my wet, aching heat, making me shudder.

"Be patient" he murmured, his voice smooth and wicked. "I want to hear you beg a little more."

I whined, frustration burning through me.

"Bryan—"

He hummed against my skin, his breath hot, his lips still so close to where I needed him.

"Patience, baby," he murmured. "I'm not done with you yet."

I clenched the sheets, my body aching, trembling, on the verge of falling apart.

Bryan knew it.

And he was enjoying every second of it.

He brushed his lips against my inner thigh, his fingers tracing slow, torturous circles against my skin.

"Look at you," he mused, his voice smooth, teasing. "Already a mess for me."

I bit my lip, panting. "Please."

Bryan smirked, dragging his tongue along my thigh, but not where I needed him.

"Please what?" he murmured, his fingers ghosting over my hips.

I groaned, my head tilting back against the pillow.

I was losing my mind.

"Bryan, please," I gasped.

His hands gripped my thighs tighter, his mouth hovering just above my heat.

"You want my mouth on you again, baby?"

I nodded frantically, my breath uneven.

But Bryan didn't move.

I whimpered, frustration curling in my stomach.

"Bryan, I—"

He suddenly flicked his tongue over my clit, just once, just enough to make me gasp.

My body jerked, desperate, needy, completely at his mercy.

He laughed softly, dark and knowing. "There you go," he murmured. "Good girl."

And then—he devoured me.

His mouth latched onto my clit, sucking gently, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate circles.

I cried out, my hands clawing at the sheets, my thighs trembling.

"That's it, baby," Bryan groaned against me, his voice wrecked with hunger.

The vibrations sent another wave of pleasure crashing through me, and I knew—

I wasn't going to last.

Bryan felt it too, his fingers digging into my hips, holding me steady as his tongue moved faster, more relentless, more consuming.

He groaned, his tongue flicking just right, pushing me over the edge.

The coil inside me snapped, and I shattered.

Pleasure ripped through me, wave after wave, my body tightening, my breath stuttering, my vision going white as I moaned his name.

Bryan didn't stop.

He worked me through it, his tongue still teasing, his hands still gripping me, letting me feel every last second of it.

When my body finally went limp, breathless, boneless, ruined beneath him, he slowly pulled back, pressing a lingering kiss to my inner thigh.

Then, his dark eyes met mine, glazed with heat, his lips swollen from everything he had just done to me.

"You look so pretty when you come for me," he murmured.

I swallowed hard, still trying to catch my breath.

He grinned, before crawling back up my body, kissing me deeply, letting me taste myself on his lips.

I moaned softly, tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

Bryan was still hovering over me, his body warm, solid, and completely tense.

I could feel how hard he was against my thigh, how much he had held himself back, how much he needed this now.

But for once, I didn't want him in control.

I wanted to see him come undone.

I shifted beneath him leaving him flat on his back, eyes dark and unreadable as he stared up at me.

For once, he looked surprised.

A slow smirk curved his lips. "Taking charge, mi cielo?"

I leaned down, kissing him slowly, teasingly, my fingers trailing down his chest, feeling every line of muscle, every sharp inhale.

His hands gripped my waist, his fingers pressing into my skin like he was barely holding himself back.

"I can be full of surprises," I murmured against his lips.

Bryan let out a low, approving hum. "That so?"

I slid lower, pressing kisses down his jaw, his neck, his chest, my hands following the path of my mouth, mapping him out.

I could feel his stomach tighten beneath my touch, his breath coming out uneven.

And when I reached the waistband of his sweats, I glanced up at him, waiting.

His jaw was clenched, his eyes hooded and dark with want.

But he still smirked, always teasing.

"Go on, Ballerina," he murmured. "Show me what you've learned."

I swallowed, my heart pounding.

I was nervous—God, I was nervous.

But I wanted this.

I wanted to see Bryan lose control for once, to hear him moan for me, to know that I could make him feel just as good as he made me feel.

So I did.

I let my fingers drag lower, teasing, just the way he always did to me, drawing out his anticipation.

And the second I touched him—the low, wrecked groan that tore from his throat made my stomach tighten with heat.

His hands gripped the sheets, his muscles tensing beneath me.

"Fuck, Amber," he muttered, his voice raw, breathless.

And just like that, I had him.

Bryan was a mess beneath me.

His muscles were tight, tense, his jaw clenched, his fingers digging into the sheets as I moved over him.

His cock was hot and heavy in my hand, and I could feel him twitch, reacting to every slow, teasing stroke of my fingers.

I was learning.

I was watching him carefully, paying attention to the way his body responded, testing what made him groan, what made his breath hitch, what made his grip on control weaken.

And right now?

He was barely holding on.

I lowered my mouth again, dragging my tongue along his length, slow and deliberate.

Bryan sucked in a sharp breath, his abs tensing beneath me.

"Fuck," he muttered, his fingers twitching in the sheets.

I smirked against his skin.

I liked this. Seeing him like this.

The way he was always so cocky, so in control—but now, he was unraveling beneath me.

I took him deeper this time, letting my tongue swirl around the tip, hollowing my cheeks, sucking just enough to make his hips jerk involuntarily.

Bryan let out a low, broken groan, one of his hands suddenly reaching for my hair, threading his fingers through it.

"Jesus, Ballerina," he muttered, his voice strained, raw.

I hummed around him, feeling him throb in my mouth, and that sound—that deep, wrecked groan that tore from his throat—sent heat curling between my thighs.

"You're learning fast," he rasped, his grip tightening just slightly.

I flicked my tongue over the sensitive ridge of him, dragging my nails lightly down his thighs.

Bryan sucked in another breath, his head tilting back, his muscles flexing.

But he was still holding back.

Still trying to stay in control.

So I pushed him further.

I hollowed my cheeks again, taking him deeper, sucking harder, letting my tongue tease him in slow, agonizing strokes.

Bryan let out a sharp curse, his body tensing beneath me.

His hand tightened in my hair, just for a second—just enough to make me shiver.

"Amber," he warned, his voice rough, breathless.

I could feel it—the way he was on the verge of breaking.

I pulled back slightly, teasing him with the tip of my tongue, watching the way his abs tensed, the way his hands clenched into fists like he was barely restraining himself.

"You're gonna drive me insane," he groaned.

I smiled, enjoying the way he was falling apart.

But just as I started to take him deeper again, Bryan suddenly moved—

Too fast for me to react, flipping us over in one swift motion, pinning me down beneath him.

I let out a startled gasp, my head hitting the pillow, Bryan's weight pressing against me.

His eyes were dark, wild, completely unreadable.

And then, before I could say a word, his mouth was on mine—deep, hard, possessive.

"You think you can tease me, huh?" he muttered against my lips, his voice low, dangerous.

I whimpered, my fingers gripping at his shoulders.

Bryan smirked, his grip tightening on my wrists, holding me still.

"Not happening, Ballerina."

And just like that, he took control back.

Bryan's kiss was rough, consuming, all heat and hunger, stealing every breath I had left. His hands gripped my hips, his body pressing me deeper into the mattress, his weight solid and unyielding.

I could feel him—hot, hard, thick against my thigh, teasing me, torturing me with the unbearable anticipation.

His lips trailed down my jaw, my throat, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin, his breath warm, heavy, full of need.

"You're so fucking perfect," he murmured against my collarbone, his voice dark and full of control.

I gasped as his hands dragged down my sides, gripping my thighs, spreading me open for him.

Then, without warning, he pushed his cock inside me.

A sharp, deep stretch filled me completely, overwhelming, intoxicating, raw.

I gasped, my nails digging into his back, my body arching into him as I adjusted to the thickness of him.

Bryan groaned, his jaw clenching, his breath uneven.

"Shit, Amber," he muttered. "So fucking tight."

He stilled, his fingers brushing against my cheek, grounding me.

"You okay?" he whispered, his lips barely grazing mine.

I nodded, panting, desperate, already aching for more.

"Good," he murmured, his smirk wicked, dark.

Then, he moved.

His first thrust was slow, deliberate, filling me to the hilt before pulling back, dragging every inch of himself along my sensitive walls.

I moaned, my thighs trembling around his waist, my body desperate to take everything he was giving me.

Bryan groaned, his pace deepening, finding a rhythm that had me gasping, clutching at him like he was the only thing holding me together.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, his hands gripping my hips tighter. "You take me so well."

Each thrust was harder, deeper, dragging moans from my lips, his name slipping from me like a prayer.

But Bryan wasn't done.

He suddenly grabbed my thigh, lifting my leg over his shoulder, pressing deeper than before.

I cried out, pleasure slamming through me like a tidal wave.

"Yeah, that's it," Bryan groaned, watching my face, watching the way I unraveled beneath him.

He thrust harder, his pace brutal, relentless, hitting every spot inside me that made my vision blur.

I clutched at the sheets, my breath coming in desperate, shaky gasps.

"Bryan—"

Bryan's thrusts were deep, slow but powerful, filling me completely, dragging pleasure through every nerve in my body. My fingers clawed at his back, my breath coming in desperate, shaky gasps.

I was so close, teetering on the edge, the pleasure tightening inside me, ready to snap.

But then—he stopped.

I gasped, my body trembling from the sudden loss of movement, my release just out of reach.

"Bryan," I whimpered, desperate, frustrated.

He groaned, gripping my waist, his fingers digging into my skin, holding me still.

"Not yet, baby," he murmured, his voice low, dark, commanding.

Before I could even protest, he flipped us effortlessly, pulling me up with him as he leaned back against the headboard, settling into a seated position.

I was straddling him now, my knees planted on either side of his thighs, my hands braced against his chest.

His hands slid up my back, gripping my waist, steadying me as he guided me down onto him again, making me take every inch of him.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my head tilting back, my thighs shaking from the new angle.

Bryan groaned, his lips trailing along my collarbone, his grip firm on my hips.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, his voice wrecked. "You feel so good like this."

I whimpered, digging my nails into his shoulders as I slowly started moving, rolling my hips against him, feeling the stretch, the fullness, the deep pressure of him inside me.

His fingers tightened on my waist, guiding me, helping me find the rhythm he wanted.

"That's it," he murmured, his lips brushing against my throat, his tongue flicking out to taste me.

I moaned, heat pooling in my stomach at the way he said it, the roughness in his voice making my whole body tremble.

I moved faster, my hips rolling against his, grinding down, taking him even deeper.

Bryan let out a sharp curse, his hands gripping me tighter, his muscles tensing beneath me.

"You're gonna fucking kill me," he muttered, his breath uneven.

I gasped, my hands sliding up into his hair, pulling him closer, kissing him deeply as I moved faster, chasing the high that had been stolen from me earlier.

Bryan groaned into my mouth, his hands sliding down, gripping my ass, pushing me down harder onto him, his hips snapping up to meet mine, hitting me even deeper.

The new angle sent pleasure rocketing through me, making me cry out against his lips.

"Bryan—"

His smirk was wicked, dangerous.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his teeth grazing my jaw. "Come for me."

I was so close, so impossibly close, every thrust, every movement pushing me higher and higher until—

It snapped.

The orgasm ripped through me, hard and fast, my whole body locking up, trembling, falling apart in his arms.

Bryan groaned, feeling me clench around him, his hands gripping me tighter as he thrust up into me one last time, burying himself deep as he followed me over the edge.

For a long moment, we just stayed like that—panting, breathless, completely spent, tangled up in each other.

Then, Bryan let out a soft, lazy chuckle, his fingers brushing over my back, grounding me.

"You okay?" he murmured.

I nodded, too exhausted to speak, completely boneless in his arms.

He smirked, his hands sliding up to cup my face, tilting my chin so I'd look at him.

"You did so good," he whispered, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my lips.

And as he pulled me against him, his warmth surrounding me, his heartbeat steady against my own, I knew—I had never felt safer than I did right here.

With him.

And just like that, Valentine's Day became my new favorite holiday.