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She wrapped her arms around his waist before she could second-guess herself, and he froze for just a heartbeat before his good arm settled around her back.

"You hugged me first," he murmured.

She smiled against his chest. "I did."

"I like that you did, babygirl,” he said. Something about the way that he praised her did wicked things to her girl parts. She wondered why his approval was so important to her, but trying to figure that out might take some time.

She leaned back enough to look up at him. “I like it when you call me babygirl.”

“I noticed.”

“You seem to notice a lot about me,” she said.

“I notice everything about you, babygirl.”

"Is that why you remembered I like coffee? Or that I like drawing. Is that why you notice every time I skip lunch?”

"And that you pretend you're fine when you're overwhelmed,” he breathed.

She stared at him. "You really notice all of that?"

"I already told you. I notice everything about you,” he said.

The words stole every coherent thought from her head. No one had ever paid that much attention to her. Not her parents after they became sick. Not her ex, and certainly not her boss, Richard Collins. She'd spent years trying to become invisible, but Soren seemed determined to see every part of her anyway.

His thumb brushed over her cheek. "What are you thinking?"

"That—” She swallowed. "I don't know what I did to deserve someone looking at me the way you do."

His expression turned serious. "You survived things that should have broken you." He tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. "That's enough for me."

Emotion clogged her throat, and she rested her forehead against his chest again, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I don't think anyone's ever been proud of me before for just surviving."

His arm tightened around her. "I am." The simple words shattered something inside her, and tears filled her eyes before she could stop them.

She laughed shakily. "I cry entirely too much around you."

"You finally have someone safe enough to cry with,” he whispered, gently kissing her forehead.

She smiled through the tears. "I guess I do."

A knock sounded against the bedroom door, but Soren didn't let her go. "Come in."

Maria stepped inside carrying a small wooden box. She stopped the moment she saw them standing together, and a smile spread slowly across her face. "Oh."

Lily immediately stepped back, mortified. "I'm sorry⁠—"

Maria pointed a finger at her. "Not one apology."

Lily pressed her lips together, and Soren smiled between the two of them.

"I brought your art supplies," Maria said, setting the wooden box on the desk by the window. "And before either of you ask, lunch will be ready in an hour." She turned toward the door before pausing. "Oh, and Soren?"

"Yes?" he said.

"Try not to rip those stitches."

Soren looked appropriately innocent. "I have no idea what you're implying."