“Jesus Christ,” my brother says on the other end, his exhaustion palpable. “I think I actually need some chai.”

“I’ll make you some when I get home,” I promise, unable to look away from Ace. His grip loosens on my wrist and his fingers slip away, leaving my hand suspended between us. “Thank you again.”

“It’s what we do, right?” Samir says, and there’s something regretful in his voice. A call to his last promise. “I’ve got your back.”

Despite the tension still stringing my body, I manage a quiet laugh. “I’ve got your back, too.”

Samir hangs up, leaving me and Ace alone. Only our quiet breathing exists in the silence.

“Sorry about that,” I say, my cheeks burning with unspoken shame. I lower my hand slowly.

Ace swallows, throat shifting with the movement. “No saying sorry, remember?”

I look down, my limbs heavy with awareness. “I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

He shakes his head and cups my cheek. “Yes, it is, Karina. I want you with all your lines.”

A tremor runs through me. “All my lines?”

Ace nods, resting his forehead against mine. “All your lines.”

“There are so many,” I whisper and my voice cracks. “You should give up now.”

He smiles faintly. “That doesn’t change anything. I want you, Karina Ahmed. That means lines and all.”

He leans in, and I meet him halfway, our lips brushing together in a soft kiss.

A tear slips down my face without permission and he pulls back, stroking a careful thumb against my cheek. “I’m not giving up on us unless you are.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to give up on us. I choose this. I choose us. I choose you.”

“Then I’m here to stay,” he says, and he leans in again, pressing a gentle kiss below my eye. “Come out back with me?”

I nod and follow him to the truck bed again, my chest flooded with warm, dizzying emotions.

Ace whispers luminous stories to me for another hour before we finally call it a night and he drives me home.

The truck idles in front of my driveway, and I unbuckle my seatbelt. I turn to find Ace watching me. “Thank you. For the date and the ride. And everything else.” My pulse is racing for no discernible reason. Or maybe it’s because I can still feel the ghost of Ace’s lips against my skin, still hear the echo of his words in my head.

“And you thought the truck would kill you,” Ace says, eyes dancing in the pale moonlight spilling through the window.

“No,” I say quietly. “I thought you would.” I still do.

Ace blinks as if he didn’t expect that answer. I offer him a small smile and climb out of the truck.