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She stirs again, her movements causing her body to grind against my erection.

“Shit.” I stop her hips from moving with my hands. As much as I want to lose myself in her again, she must be sore.

And first, I need to tell her.

Lil’s eyes blink open, taking in her surroundings and then landing on me, clutching the sheets to her chest.

“Good morning, princess.” I chuckle and draw her closer.

She ducks her head. “Morning.”

I run my fingers through her hair, content to hold her like this forever.

“What time is it?” she asks.

“Get some more rest.”

“But it’s already morning.” She tries to sit up, but I tighten my grip on her.

“Stay. Just a little while longer.” Because I don’t know how long or how many times I have left with her like that.

“Gemma might come in. What if she already knocked on my door to check on me?”

It’s cute how she worries. I already told Gem that Lil’s with me. Her answer was, ‘Ugh. Thanks for the images, dear brother.’

“Stay with me.” I kiss the inside of her wrist.

She hesitates, and I don’t miss the way her gaze darts to my lips or how she shifts closer to me. At last, she settles against my chest with a contented sigh, and with that, a profound peace and rightness settles over me.

Here, with Lil, I’m home.

“Why cupcakes?” I always wondered. Especially since my father reacted like that.

She clads the sheets tighter around her bare body. “They remind me of my mom. She used to bake a lot.”

“I’m sorry, princess.”

She shakes her head. “It’s okay. Baking makes me feel close to her somehow. Do you think… do you think it’s possible to love or miss someone you don’t even remember?”

“I think it’s possible to love the idea of someone. The possibility of what could have been.”

“Maybe you’re right. Sometimes I wonder what they were like.”

“Did your uncle ever tell you about your parents?”

“Yes, and your mom.”

Good to hear I’m not the only one trying to make peace. “And what did they tell you?”

“That she was warm. Kind. Always made everyone feel welcome and loved. And her laugh… it was infectious.”

The mini Lil tottering around the kitchen with her mom, flour on her face, must be a funny scene. “She sounds a lot like you.”

A pretty blush colors her cheeks. “You think so?”

“Mhmm. Beautiful, inside and out.” I brush my lips against hers softly. “Though I doubt she ever punched a quarterback.”

Lil groans, burying her face against my chest. “Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

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