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She doesn’t answer right away, and the silence stretches long enough that I start to spiral. I’m sure she’s about to tell me I’m moving too fast, that this was a mistake.

Instead, she gives a small nod. “Yeah… I think we should talk more. And see a therapist.”

“Because that’s not what you want?” I ask, my heart in my throat.

She shakes her head. “No. Because I do want it. And I want to make sure we don’t ruin this before it even starts.”

I don’t think. I just lean across the console, cup her face in my hands, and kiss her.

It’s not careful. It’s years of missing her packed into one desperate press of lips—soft at first, then deeper when she exhales against my mouth and kisses me back. My hand slides from her cheek to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair as I angle her closer, tasting the faint mint on her tongue. She makes a small, needy sound that shoots straight through me, and suddenly her hand isn’t just clinging to my shirt—she’s gripping my thigh, nails digging in, and I feel the heat of her palm like a brand. My body reacts instantly, a low, aching throb that has me shifting in the seat to ease the pressure. Her fingers curl tighter into the fabric, pulling me closer as if she can’t get enough, and the tension in my chest finally eases even as a different kind of tension coils hot and heavy in my gut.

“Fuck.” I growl against her lips. “We gotta stop.”

She pulls back just enough to laugh, her breath warm against my lips.

“What?” I whisper, my eyes still on her mouth.

“I’m pretty sure our first kiss was also right after I said I wanted to keep seeing you.”

I huff a quiet laugh, the memory surfacing like it happened yesterday. She’s right. I’d driven her home after our first date, parked in this same driveway, and told her I already knew I wanted her to be my girlfriend—even if it made me look crazy after one night. She’d said she felt the same, and I’d kissed her right here in the front seat of my beat-up Honda Civic. And just like then, I’m left awkwardly adjusting my throbbing dick in my pants so her dad doesn’t notice as we get out of my truck.

She catches me and laughs. “You okay, soldier?”

“Shut up,” I mutter, smacking her ass as she leads the way to the front door.

Blaire gives me one last look, the playfulness fading into nerves again. She swallows hard, then pushes the door open.

“Hey! How was—” Brittney’s enthusiastic greeting cuts off the second she sees me step in behind Blaire. “Simon?”

The rest of the conversation dies instantly. The living room goes silent, the only sound the distant shrieks and laughter of the kids playing in the basement. Brittney sits frozen on the couch with one of her girls in her lap. Chance pauses mid-sentence in the armchair, his wife still curled against him. Richard watches from the other chair, unreadable, while Carter and his boyfriend look up from their phones in unison.

Blaire shuts the door behind us, standing stiffly at my side.

“Hey, everyone,” I say, voice rough. I clasp my hands behind my back out of habit.

“Hey, man,” Chance offers, glancing between us.

Kathryn rounds the corner from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel, and stops short when she spots me.

The awkwardness in the room is thick enough to choke on. It’s a sharp reminder of how little time I’ve spent here since things ended with Blaire. I used to practically live at the Thomas house—after school, every weekend, holidays. Her brothers and I grew up together, got into the kind of trouble we still don’t talk about. They tried to stay in touch during her pregnancy, but once I started shutting them out, the calls and texts slowly stopped.

Brittney breaks the silence first, though her eyes flick between us with obvious curiosity. “You guys doing something with Theo tonight for Halloween?”

“Uh… no.” Blaire shifts her weight. “Since everyone’s here, I guess I’ll just spit it out.” She reaches over, wraps her hand around my bicep, and tugs me closer until I unclasp my hands and thread my fingers through hers. “Simon and I got back together.”

A long, heavy pause follows. No one speaks. They just stare.

Blaire’s family has always been everything to her. She’s here constantly, and Theo is glued to his aunts, uncles, and cousins. If they decide this is a bad idea, it could wreck us before we even get started. I don’t have anyone else—no relationship with my dad, and my mom only reaches out when she needs the money I send. A place in this family isn’t optional. It’s everything.

“About damn time,” Chance finally blurts. He sets Sophia on her feet and crosses the room to pull me into a crushing hug.

“I’ve been saying for years you two still love each other,” Brittney adds, side-hugging Blaire while murmuring something in her ear.

The room erupts into overlapping voices—excited, relieved, welcoming. The shift is so fast it almost gives me whiplash. One second I’m a stranger in their house; the next, I’m back in the fold like I never left.

Kathryn pulls me into a warm hug that smells like cinnamon and fresh cookies. “Welcome back, Si.”

Her words hit harder than I expect. My throat tightens, eyes burning.