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Walking up to the address Lenny texted me, I focus on the way she nibbles on her bottom lip, staring at her phone. How her jeans have just the right amount of holes and tears to drive me crazy. How the wind sweeps the front of her hair back like that's the reason why it's blowing.

I watch her so closely that I don't even realize the sign she's standing under until I'm stepping onto the curb.

She looks up at me, a huge smile on her face, and throws her hands into the air. "Surprise!"

I look past her at the light wooden letters hanging above the door. "Drippy's? Was this your, um…" My hand finds the back of my neck while I smother a smile. "Your big plan?"

It takes everything in me not to completely fake this. The way she's so excited—trying so hard—is mending a part of me I didn't know was still cracked.

Lenny's face lights up more. "Yeah! It's like the best coffee I've ever had."

My eyes widen as my mouth drops open, and I try to force out literally any response besides the truth.

Her face drops slowly. "You've had it, haven't you?"

I roll my lips in, narrowing my eyes. "I have."

"Oh…" Her shoulders sag briefly, then she perks back up. "Well, have you ever had their—"

"Cinnamon rolls?" Her mouth sinks into a pout that I shouldn't think is adorable when I'm slowly breaking her heart. "Yeah. They're Ruthie's favorite."

Pink rushes to her cheeks. "Ruthie?" she attempts to ask nonchalantly.

Her obvious jealousy also does things to me that it shouldn't.

"Vienna's babysitter," I explain.

Lenny nods slowly, her face returning to its normal color.

"That's okay, though," I add quickly, stepping up to wrap my arms around her waist. "Who doesn't love a good cinnamon roll?"

She groans, dragging her hands to my shoulders and frowns. "Yeah, but it was my turn to take you somewhere. And when I stopped and thought about it, I realized that in the month I've been here I've spent most of it either working at the hospital or running in the park. So, it was here or Luxe or… Grover's I guess."

I shake my head. "I told you—no more groceries, O'Reilly."

She leans forward, resting her forehead against my chest. "I'm sorry."

"Hey." I bend my knees, forcing her to look at me. "We could go back to one of our places."

"I just wanted to do something with you. We—" She stops mid-sentence, swallowing hard.

"Don't have much time," I finish for her.

She nods.

I squeeze her in closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Just over a week until Lenny's done at GCG.

A thought flies through me.

How am I supposed to let her go?

But I shove it down, and focus on the idea that springs to mind. "Would it be okay if I pick again?"

She pulls back and looks at me.

"I have an idea."