Page 29 of The Broken Keys

“Thanks. Are you sure it doesn’t bother you that I have wine?”

“Positive. My therapist isn’t convinced I need to steer clear of it forever. I chose not to because I enjoy having a brain that doesn’t hurt the next day.”

“Makes sense.”

He points down the hall. “Make yourself at home while I put this in my room.”

Bubbles of nerves fill my insides. I nod and mosey into the kitchen. Garlic and basil fill the air. Takeout containers from a little Italian place on Melrose are spread across his counter.

He’s transferred everything to real plates, set out cloth napkins, and lit candles like he’s trying to make takeout special. The gesture makes me warm inside.

After a few moments, he returns. “Sit and let me serve you.”

“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“It’s not trouble.” He hands me a glass of wine, our fingers touching again. “It’s what you do for someone who matters.”

We eat with music playing in the background. The conversation flows easily and smoothly, punctuated by comfortable silences that don’t need filling.

“This is nice.” I clink my glass to his. “Here’s to catching up.”

“Yeah, to catching up.” His gaze lingers as he lifts his glass and drinks his water. “Let’s take this to the couch.”

“Sounds like a plan I can get behind.”

We move to the other room, and he settles beside me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin.

“You know, Livianna, I spent so many years thinking I needed to live my life numb. Turns out all I needed was the right person to be with.”

I gaze at him, finding his blue eyes already focused on my face.

“Callum…”

“I know we’re taking it slow. I know you need time.” His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “But I need you to know that being here with you like this, it’s everything I’ve wanted for five years.”

The tenderness in his voice breaks something open inside me. “Honestly, I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of getting hurt again.” The admission comes out in a whisper.

His thumb traces along my jawline. “What if instead of worrying about all the ways this could go wrong, we just focused on how right it feels in this moment?”

Before I can assess it, before I can catalog all the reasons this is complicated, I lean into his touch. “It does feel right.”

“Then that’s enough for now.”

The kiss happens slowly, like we both know this moment will change everything and we want to savor it. His lips are soft against mine, tentative at first, then deeper when I don’t pull away. And for the first time in days, my mind goes completely quiet.

His fingers tangle in my hair. I press closer, needing more of this feeling, this connection that’s just like coming home.

When his tongue traces mine, I open for him more, and the sound he makes low in his throat sends fire straight through my veins.

He shifts, angling himself over me. I relax back and enjoy the moment.

“Lily,” he breathes against my lips.

The want in his voice snaps me back to reality. I break apart, breathing hard.