Chapter 332
**Sara**
"We'll finalize the details when I get back," Tom said, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly tone that always made my stomach flutter. "Consider it a verbal agreement until then."
I pulled my knees up to my chest, balancing the phone against them. "What exactly am I agreeing to here? The fine print matters, Professor."
Tom's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Ten lip kisses."
"Ten lip kisses?" I repeated, confused.
"Ten lip kisses for each day you've stayed in my apartment while I've been gone." He looked entirely too pleased with himself. "And I haven't been keeping track of how many days that is."
I laughed. "That's your big demand? Kisses?"
"Not just any kisses. Premium, grade-A, Sara Parker original kisses."
"Well, for your information, I haven't been counting the days either." I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "And if we're talking about kisses, I'm pretty sure we've already exceeded that quota by a significant margin. I mean, if you think about it, we've been kissing and having sex for months now. That's got to be hundreds, maybe thousands of kisses already exchanged in the heat of passion, in the quiet moments after, in the-"
"Are you trying to lawyer your way out of this?" Tom interrupted, looking amused.
"I'm establishing precedent," I said primly. "Any reasonable judge would agree that prior kiss contributions should count toward the current obligation."
"Ah, but these are new kisses," Tom countered, loosening his tie further. "Fresh kisses. The old ones have already been accounted for in previous transactions."
"Previous transactions? What is this, a kissing ledger?"
"If necessary, I can provide detailed documentation of all prior kiss-related exchanges."
"Fine," I relented, trying to keep my face serious. "Ten kisses per day. But I want it on record that I'm agreeing under duress."
"Duress?" Tom raised an eyebrow. "Is someone holding a gun to your head?"
"The emotional duress of missing you," I admitted before I could stop myself.
His expression softened immediately. "I miss you too, Sara."
We fell silent for a moment, the admission hanging between us, honest and a little raw.
"How about seven more kisses for that comment?" he finally said, breaking the tension.
"Seven? That's oddly specific."
"One for each letter in 'I miss you.'"
I groaned. "That is simultaneously the cheesiest and most adorable thing you've ever said."
Tom's smile widened. "I'm taking that as a compliment."
"You would." I shook my head but couldn't stop my own smile from spreading. "So, what exciting business things are you doing tomorrow?"
"Trying not to fall asleep in meetings while old men talk about profit margins. What about you? Big plans at Westbridge?"
"Just the usual. Crunching numbers, impressing my boss, plotting world domination."
"That last one wasn't in your job description."
"It's implied." I shifted to a more comfortable position. "Did you know your brother Leo follows me on Instagram now?"
Tom's eyebrows shot up. "When did that happen?"
"This morning. I nearly spat out my coffee when I saw the notification."
"Did you follow him back?"
"Of course I did. I need intel on your embarrassing childhood photos."
Tom groaned dramatically. "Please tell me he hasn't started sending you anything yet."
"Not yet, but I'm hopeful." I grinned wickedly. "I bet he has some real gems from your awkward teen years."
"I didn't have awkward teen years," Tom protested. "I went straight from adorable child to devastatingly handsome adult."
I snorted so hard it hurt. "Sure you did."
"If it helps, I definitely had an awkward mustache phase in college. Leo probably has evidence."
"Oh my god, please tell me it was one of those creepy little pencil mustaches."
"Worse. It was patchy and sad. I thought it made me look distinguished."
I burst out laughing, nearly dropping my phone. "I need photographic evidence of this immediately."
"Absolutely not. Those photos are buried deeper than Jimmy Hoffa."
"I'll find them," I threatened playfully. "Leo seems like he'd be willing to help with very little persuasion."
Tom's expression turned serious. "Actually, about Leo..."
My stomach dropped. "What about him?"
"He wants to meet you when I get back."
"Oh." I blinked, surprised. "Like, formally meet me? As your..."
"As the woman I'm seeing," Tom finished when I trailed off. "No pressure or labels if you're not comfortable with that."
I chewed my lip, thinking. "I mean, I guess that makes sense. We've been... whatever we've been... for a while now."
"'Whatever we've been,'" Tom repeated, looking amused. "Such a romantic description."
"You know what I mean!" I protested. "We've been sleeping together, and now I'm basically living in your apartment while you're gone, and—"
"And I told you I love you," Tom added softly.
I felt my cheeks flush hot. "Yeah. That too."
The silence stretched between us for a moment, comfortable yet charged with something new.
"I love you too," I said quietly, the words feeling both terrifying and completely right. "But I just realized something very important."
Tom's face lit up, but then his expression shifted to concern. "What's that?"
"You promised me flowers," I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. "And yet, my desk at work remains suspiciously flower-free. My apartment, too. Even your apartment is disappointingly lacking in floral arrangements."
Tom laughed, the sound deep and rich. "Is that so? No flowers delivered today?"
"Not a single petal," I confirmed, trying to look stern despite the smile tugging at my lips. "I'm beginning to think your wooing skills are all talk."
"I'm wounded," he said, placing a hand over his heart. "Truly wounded. But if you must know, I ordered flowers to be delivered to your office every day until Friday."
"Really?" I perked up, feeling ridiculously pleased. "Where did you order them from?"
"Some website," Tom said vaguely, then frowned. "Let me check actually. I should have gotten a confirmation email."
"Huh," he said after a moment. "That's strange."
"What's strange?"
"The payment failed. There must be some issue with my card," he said, looking genuinely disappointed. "But don't worry; I'll fix it right now. You'll get flowers from tomorrow until Friday and next Monday, too."
"My hero," I said dryly. "What kind of flowers are they actually? Please tell me you didn't order something ridiculous like those giant arrangements that block everyone's view."
"Just flowers with some cards," he said innocently, which immediately made me suspicious.
"What kind of cards?" I pressed. "If they say anything embarrassing, I swear I'll—"
"They're very tasteful," Tom assured me, but the mischievous glint in his eye told me otherwise.
I groaned. "I'm going to be the office spectacle, aren't I?"
"Maybe just a little," he admitted with a grin.
An idea struck me. "Actually, can you change the delivery address to your apartment instead?"
"My apartment? Why?"
"Because I'm staying here most nights anyway," I explained. "And this way, I can enjoy them longer instead of having them wilt on my desk while I'm here."
"That makes sense," Tom nodded and tapped away at his phone. "Done. Address changed. They'll start arriving tomorrow."
"Perfect," I said, settling deeper into the couch cushions. "Now I can avoid being the center of office gossip and still get flowers. Win-win."
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