Page 86 of Cinnamon Roll Set Up

“I can’t believe I never realized that’s what he is.”

“Selective perception,” he says, snuggling me closer. “You didn’t want to see it because you already liked him. Knowing the truth would have ruined it for you.”

“Okay, Mr. Science.”

He kisses my face again. “That’s Mr. Science Fiction to you.”

I lose track of the movie pretty quickly. Not just because snuggling under a blanket with Miles is an absolute delight, but because that phrase he used keeps clattering around in my head.Selective perception.

Maybe it’s true. Here I am, surrounded by a bunch of happy, committed couples. Couples who are exactly what Harper and Eliza told me a few weeks ago—each other’s biggest supports, best friends, and champions. People who see past the mess and the imperfections to the best version possible of the other person.

I rest my head on Miles’s shoulder and watch as Jack opens Sally’s gift of an ethereal butterfly.

Maybe not all love is fictional, after all.

Miles helps me carry the leftover treats Ty sent us off with into my apartment. Somehow I brought home more goodies than I took out to the ranch.

“I’m going to throw all of this into a dish and make candy casserole,” I tell Miles.

“And people say a vegetarian diet is unhealthy.”

“My dentist loves it.” I swallow. “Thanks for coming tonight and putting up with everything.”

“I had a great time. Thanks for not getting mad I ruined one of your favorite movies.”

I chuckle. “You didn’t ruin anything. You make everything better.”

And then we’re silent. Watching each other. It’s not uncomfortable, exactly, but it is…charged.

“Do you…” I start.

“Yes.”

No notes. Just yes.

We snap together in a hungry kiss, his hand at the back of my head, mine clutching at his shoulders. He slips his other hand around my waist, pulling me as close as possible. I love Miles for exactly who he is, reserve and all, but I really,reallylike it when he’s bold.

He takes charge in a way he doesn’t often let himself do out in the real world, and I’m more than happy to follow where he leads. His heated touch consumes me like a wildfire until there’s only sensation—his mouth on mine, my hands tracing down his chest, the weight of his arm around my back.

He slows the pace, relaxing his grip on me and gentling his movements. His deliberate caresses are a conversation all on their own.I care for you. You’re precious to me. This is entirely real.

Awareness spreads through me, aching and soothing at the same time. I’ve had the perfect match right here and didn’t evenknow. He’s better than my imagination, or a book hero, or even an actual special ops guy. I don’t want any of them—I only want my best friend.

He takes a detour along my jaw and down my neck. Curse this gloriously chunky sweater that stops him on his path before he can reach my collar bone. He traces his way back up, and when he kisses behind my ear, I think I’ve melted. No thoughts. Just a smooth brain, here to enjoy his caresses and nothing else.

He returns to my mouth for a tender kiss and then touches his forehead to mine. “I should probably go.”

I’m tempted to tell him to stay. So tempted. But we don’t need to rush. We’ve known each other five years, yes, but our bigger feelings only started developing a couple of weeks ago. We can spare a little more time to sort those out.

Plus, I am the novice to end all novices. So. Slow is good.

“Smart.” I run my hands down his shoulders to grip his biceps. That MMA training does quality work.

One of his eyebrows darts up. “Do you need a minute alone with my biceps?”

“Yes.” I squeeze them a little more. I’m brazenly feeling him up and I regret nothing.

He laughs softly. “Maybe I should return the favor.”

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