It was nearly midnight when your doorbell rang.

You weren’t expecting anyone—least of all him. But there stood Caleb, a little off-balance, his cheeks dusted pink from more than just the cold. His coat was undone, one hand bracing himself against the doorframe as his purple eyes met yours with a lazy sort of mischief.

“I thought I’d walk home… but my feet kinda brought me here instead,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement—and bourbon. “Hope you don’t mind.”

You crossed your arms, eyebrow raised. “How much did you drink?”

He grinned, leaning in slightly, and you caught a whiff of aged whiskey and expensive cologne. “Enough to miss you more than usual.”

You sighed, stepping aside. “Come in before you pass out on the porch.”

The moment he crossed the threshold, he reached for your wrist, warm fingers curling gently around yours. “You always take care of me,” he mumbled, eyes half-lidded. “It’s unfair.”