The timer buzzed, and I grabbed a mitt. Opening the oven door, I pulled out the baking sheet. Moving quickly, I grabbed the bag of pecans and started placing them on the warm, semi-melted candies. “We’re together,” I told her, sneaking a pecan. “I’m not sure how else to say that.”

Mom popped her hip against the counter. “Well, what made this come about?”

I so was not telling her how it happened. Moving on to the second row of candies, I felt my face flush. “Things just sort of happened and we both admitted that we had feelings for each other. You know, more-than-just-friends kind of feelings.”

She didn’t say anything, and I glanced over at her. She was teary-eyed. I paused with the pecans. “Mom.”

“What?” She blinked rapidly and then laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I always knew you cared about that boy more than you let on, and that Kyler felt the same way toward you. I’m happy you two finally recognized that in each other.” She paused, and then added, “Took long enough.”

I frowned as I hastily added the rest of the pecans before the candies cooled. “I’m beginning to think Kyler and I were the only ones who didn’t notice it sooner.”

“I think so.” She walked over and kissed my cheek. “He’s a good boy, honey. I couldn’t be happier for you.”

My lips split in a wide smile. “I’m happy. I really am.”

And then I was happy-happy less than half an hour later, when Dad announced that Kyler had pulled into the driveway beside their car. He hadn’t texted, and I wasn’t planning on seeing him tonight, but I loved how comfortable he was with just swinging by.

I popped the lid on the plastic container I’d put the candies in and then I raced through the house like a turd, nearly knocking over my mom. I opened the door before Kyler could ring the doorbell and literally threw myself into his arms.

He caught me at the last moment, wrapping his arms around my waist as he stepped back to balance the unexpected weight. “Hey,” he said, holding me tight. “You’re happy to see me.”

“I’m always happy to see you.” I looped my arms around his neck as I slid down his front, and his hands dropped to my hips.

He made a sound deep in his throat as he pressed his lips to the sensitive spot under my ear. Then he said in a low voice that simmered my blood, “You greet me like that more often and we’ll never make it into the house.”

Heat swamped me and it was an effort to pull away, but I didn’t get far. He slid his arms around my waist, his half-grin devious. “Whatcha doing here?” I asked, eyeing the backpack slung over his shoulder.