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I'm already helping myself to seconds when Quinn looks up from her plate.

“This is really good, Peachy. You've been holding out on me.”

She laughs. “It's the first time I've made it.”

“Well, you can definitely make it again.”

After dinner, we do the dishes together, Quinn washing while I dry. Pickles has settled into his bed by the kitchen door, keeping an eye on us.

I glance down at him. “Wait. You brought his bed over?”

“No, I bought him one for here.”

I look at her. “You bought my dog a bed?”

“He spends a lot of time here now. I figured he should have somewhere comfortable to sleep.”

It's such a small thing, buying Pickles a bed, but I can't stop smiling about it. A few weeks ago, I was looking for any excuse to spend time with Quinn. Now I'm standing in her kitchen, drying dishes while my dog sleeps by the door, and apparently, this is just what we do.

I could get used to it.

Actually, I already have.

We eventually make it back to the couch and put on the movie I picked earlier, although neither of us pays much attention to it.

Ten minutes in, Quinn has her legs draped across my lap, and I'm rubbing my hand along her thigh. She leans over to kiss my jaw, and I turn my head to catch her mouth.

So much for the movie.

I pull her closer, and she shifts onto my lap, smiling against my lips as I wrap my arms around her.

We've spent plenty of time making out over the past two weeks. On her couch, on mine, and once against my front door while Pickles barked at us like we'd personally offended him.

But I'm pretty sure I'll never get tired of kissing her.

Her hand slips beneath my shirt, her palm warm against my stomach, and I draw her closer.

“Wyatt,” she whispers.

“Hmm?”

“I need you to look at me for a second.”

Something in her voice makes me pull back.

“Okay.” I brush a loose strand of hair away from her face. “What's up?”

Her cheeks are flushed, and she's still sitting in my lap, one hand resting against my stomach. But she's looking at me with an expression I can't quite read.

I want to kiss her again. Fuck, I really want to kiss her again.

Instead, I keep my hands on her waist and wait. She still doesn’t say anything, looking as if she doesn’t know where to start.

Maybe I can make this easier on her.

"The other night..." I begin.

She looks up at me.