Page 90 of His Surrender

Fifteen-year-old Aubrey went upstairs afterward and spent an embarrassing amount of time imagining what it would be like if Dean Ledger ever looked at her the way girls in romance novels got looked at.

The difference now is that he does.

Almost as if he can feel me staring, he turns.

Our eyes meet, and his mouth slowly curves into a smile. Not the polite smile he’s been giving me all week.

This one is warm. It feels private, like we’re sharing a secret no one else in the room knows.

Then he winks. He actually winks.

Heat rushes straight to my cheeks.

“Oh my God,” I mumble under my breath.

“What?” Sydney asks.

“Hmm?”

“You just turned the exact color of your T-shirt.”

“I did not.”

Dean bites back what looks suspiciously like a grin before turning his attention back to the stove. “I made breakfast.”

Sydney looks between the two of us. Her eyebrow lift is almost undetectable.

“I hope everyone likes pancakes,” Dean says casually. “I found a recipe online.”

“You cooked?” I ask.

“I figured I’d give it a shot.”

I smile. “I’m impressed.”

His eyes flick toward mine again. “I had good motivation.”

The words are innocent enough. No one else would think twice about them. But I know exactly what he means.

And judging by the amused expression spreading across Sydney’s face … so does she.

By late morning, Sydney and I are walking through Central Park with hot coffees warming our hands.

The city somehow feels brighter today. Or maybe … I am.

“You’ve smiled at least twenty times in the last ten minutes,” Sydney points out before she takes a sip of her coffee.

“I have not.”

She chuckles. “You just did it again.”

“I was thinking.”

“Mmhmm.” She bumps my shoulder. “And your thoughts are apparently adorable.”

I laugh, trying—and failing—to hide my grin behind my coffee cup. We walk another few steps in comfortable silence before she speaks again.

“So …”