The second you and Drew stepped into the backyard, it was a lot — tables full of food, half the family yelling over each other, little kids sprinting across the grass. You could feel Drew’s hand tighten slightly around yours, nerves humming under his easy smile.
You leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry, they’re loud, but they’re harmless.”
He chuckled low in your ear, brushing his thumb along your knuckles. “Good. Was starting to think you were throwing me to the wolves.”
You pulled him toward the patio where your mom, your aunts, and your cousins were clustered. “Everyone, this is Drew.”
Instantly, the family swarmed him — hugs, questions, way too many jokes. Drew handled it like a champ, flashing that boyish grin, answering every rapid-fire question with so much charm you had to bite back a grin. He fit so easily it made your chest ache a little.
Then, right when you thought you’d given him a moment to breathe, little Noah — your sister’s five-year-old — came shuffling over. His small face was pinched and sad, his little soccer ball clutched tightly in his arms.
He tugged lightly at Drew’s shorts. “Um… do you wanna play soccer with me?” he asked, voice small. “The big kids won’t let me.”
You felt your heart break a little at how hopeful Noah looked. Before you could even say anything, Drew instantly crouched down so he was eye-level with him.
“Of course I wanna play with you, buddy,” Drew said, smiling warmly. “You kidding me? Bet you’re way cooler than the big kids anyway.”
Noah’s whole face lit up like Christmas. He dropped the ball onto the grass with a clumsy thud and grabbed Drew’s hand to drag him away. You watched, completely smitten, as Drew let Noah lead him onto the lawn, kicking the ball around, laughing when Noah tried to nutmeg him.
Your sister bumped your hip. “He’s a keeper,” she said under her breath, smiling.
You just nodded, not taking your eyes off Drew — the way he was beaming at Noah like there was nowhere else he’d rather be in the whole world.
You already knew. You were so gone for him.