Eden shakes her head, nudging the door closed with her foot, her smile growing. There are different ways to write things off. He could pretend it was a joke, if he wanted, or that he didn't know what else to call them, but he knows that's not the right one. Or he could flat out say he doesn't want that. He's not the kind of guy who usually functions under labels or gets tied down to anything other than his son. She's known that for a long time. It's not like she came into this expecting more.

That hasn't stopped her wanting it, of course. She'd be happy just as they've been indefinitely, but everything before him has been different. There have been men she's been with and cared about and never really loved, not the way they deserved, not the way love should be. That's all it's been, people she's been fascinated by and adored and even loved, but no one she's ever been in love with, no one she wanted to be part of something with. There were labels, but they were casually slapped on, usually by guys who felt they were somehow needed. Maybe they felt instinctively that she'd slip away without something to anchor her down. But here, she doesn't need it, and that makes craving it matter more.

"You're not pushing," she says. She holds his hands close against her neck so she can rest her chin on them, looking up at him. "I liked it."