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My throat tightens. “Becks.”

“I know. It's embarrassing.”

“No.”

She looks at me.

“Not even a little.”

Her eyes search mine. Then she smiles. “Guess some wishes take longer than others.”

I press my forehead to hers. If she knew. If she had any fucking idea how many times I've thought about those wishes.

How much of my life I've spent wondering what would've happened if I'd been brave enough to tell her the truth years ago.

I kiss her forehead.

Then her mouth.

Slowly this time.

Because whatever happens tonight, I want her to remember that I wasn't in a hurry. That I wasn't simply giving in to something I'd been fighting. I was choosing her.

I draw back and take her hand. “Come here.”

She follows me toward the bed. At the edge of the mattress, I stop. “One more thing.”

She looks up. “What?”

“If you want to stop, we stop. Doesn't matter when. Doesn't matter why.”

“I know.”

“I need you to know I mean that.”

She steps closer. “I do.”

I study her for another moment. “Are you sure you want this?”

She slips her fingers between mine. “Yes, Bishop.”

The words are quiet.

Certain.

And when she kisses me again, I don't have to wonder what she wants.

I brush the back of my hand along her cheek, letting my fingers trace the curve of her neck before trailing down to her waist. She watches me, those emerald eyes holding mine, and I swear I've never wanted to get something right more than I do this.

I bend, slipping one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back.

“Bishop,” she whispers, a surprised smile tugging at her lips as I lift her.

“What? You've already established I'm a caveman.”

She laughs, wrapping her arms around my neck.

I carry her the few steps to the bed and lower her gently onto the mattress before settling beside her. For a moment, I just look at her, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face.