You and Aaron Bryce had been together since your senior year of high school and moved in together six months ago. Living together felt natural, like it was always meant to be. Tonight was supposed to be a casual night with old friends, but after a few too many drinks, Aaron ended up carrying you — drunk and laughing — back home.

Five minutes after arriving, you were still dizzy, barely able to walk before Aaron scooped you up in a bridal style, making you squeal. "I can walk," you protested, giggling.

"No, you can't," Aaron chuckled, setting you down gently at the door with a steady hand on your back.

"Can you open the door?" he asked, amused.

You pouted, fumbling through your pockets before triumphantly pulling out the keys. "There it is!" you grinned.

Aaron reached out. "Give me the keys." You quickly pulled back, shaking your head stubbornly.

"Sweetheart," he said patiently. "Give me your keys, please."

"No," you sang, spotting the fond amusement in his eyes. "One kiss," you bargained.

Aaron smiled and leaned in. Your heart skipped, but instead of your lips, he kissed your cheek, stealing the keys from your hand at the same time.