Page 145 of Celestial Combat

“I’m lucky?” I laughed, resting my elbow on the cart. “You’re the one walking around with a goddess wearing your hoodie.”

He gave a soft smile, cheekbones turning slightly pink. Then leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to my lips. “True.”

My heart fluttered. Every time he kissed me, my entire body buzzed for a couple seconds

We turned down the next aisle together, hands intertwined.

I paused when we reached the specials section, spotting a case of colorful mochi.

“Ooh,” I said, tugging on his hand. “We definitely need these.”

Zane peered over, nodding like he approved. “Get the matcha ones too.”

I grinned passing him the boxes like they were sacred. “You just got five percent more attractive.”

He gave me a slow, smug smile as he dropped them into the cart. “Just five?”

I narrowed my eyes playfully. “Don’t get cocky.”

We kept walking slowly through the aisles, taking our time – talking about little things, like which snacks we used to eat as kids and what kind of dinner we might cook later.

He looked down at the mix in our cart – half exotic fruit, half muscle-building meals, all chaos – and shook his head. “We’re gonna need a second fridge.”

I grinned, grabbing and holding onto his bicep as we passed through the store.

His rough palm found the small of my back again.

Saturdays with Zane.

Strangely domestic.

Surprisingly perfect.

Chapter 37

Present

Manhattan, New York City

WEST VILLAGE SMELLED LIKE ESPRESSO, pavement, and fresh flowers from the stands on every other corner. I was walking hand-in-hand with Zane, our fingers laced like it was the most natural thing in the world.

People passed us – dog walkers, stroller moms, art students carrying portfolios – but I barely noticed anyone. Just him.

Zane’s thumb brushed gently across the top of my hand.

We stopped at the curb while a car rolled by. Zane leaned down and kissed me like he couldn’t help it. I kissed him back without thinking, already leaning into him before we even started walking again.

The shops along Bleecker blurred together – tiny bookstores, high-end boutiques, that bakery with the line out the door. Zane slowed in front of one old bookstore.

He opened the door first – metal bell chiming dryly. Inside, the air was hushed, thick with dust and old pages. Aladder leaned against one wall. The hardwood floor creaked like a sigh when I stepped on it.

I smiled and followed him between the aisles.

“Found anything interesting?” I asked, nudging him.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he slid his finger along spines, browsing the titles.He pulled out a thin, leather-bound book. Golden Japanese characters glimmered on the worn spine.

“What’s that?” I asked, leaning close.

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