Kiera looked at me funny, like she’d heard all of my silent additions. Strange, how we were pouring our hearts out with love and devotion, yet, at the same time, confessing all of our doubts and fears. “Okay,” she said, setting her wine down on my nightstand. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she added, “I just…I don’t want you to feel like you have to be this extravagant all the time. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

No, not really. But I hoped it every day. Not wanting to outright speak my fears, I sighed. “I’m trying, Kiera. This is all…very new to me.”

“Me too.”

I couldn’t stop the frown from forming. That wasn’t entirely true. “No, it’s not…you had…you’ve had this before, Kiera.” Admitting that darkened my heart and tightened my chest. We’d never completely be on equal footing, because unlike me, this wasn’t her first time. It wasn’t as…special.

Maybe sensing that my mood had changed, Kiera ducked down to search my eyes. “Not like this, Kellan. Not like you.”

The look on her face was full of truth and meaning. She truly felt that whatever magic she and I had, our relationship, our love, was different than what she and Denny had shared together. Ours was new to her and in that way, it was special. Maybe not first-love special, but special nonetheless, and hearing that was comforting. It gave me some hope, lightened my heart.

“That is…really good to hear,” I said with a smile. And just like that, I was lighter than air again. How she could bend my mood so easily was mystifying to me.

Kiera relaxed in my arms when she saw my untroubled expression. “Can we be done talking now?” she asked, a playful gleam in her eye.

“I thought you’d never ask…” I murmured, lowering my lips to hers.

She giggled as our mouths connected, and I was overcome by a rush of warmth and longing. I loved her so much, and nothing was ever going to change that fact. It was just about the only thing in my life that I was unwaveringly certain of—I was going to be in love with Kiera until the day I died.

Chapter 4

UNCOMFORTABLE/COMFORTABLE

I awoke before Kiera the next morning—not too surprising. After my morning routine, I went downstairs to make some coffee. I was pouring water into the back of the machine when Kiera stepped into the kitchen with me. I did a double take when I saw her. She was yawning and stretching, exposing a good portion of her stomach.

That delicious sight distracted me for a moment, but I recovered when she looped her arms around my neck. “You’re up,” I said. “I thought I’d have to wake you with the aroma of Arabica beans.”