As they pulled away from the boutique, the boutique bag resting behind them like a shared secret, Summer glanced sideways at him. "You didn't say 'software nymph' this time."

  He made a wounded noise. "I'm trying to be classy. I'm saving that for when I pin you to the rare books wall."

  Summer buried her face in her hands, laughing helplessly as he grinned and drove them toward their next stop.

  * * *

  As the bookstore's familiar little bell jingled behind them and they stepped into the cool hush of paper and ink, Summer lingered by the entrance a moment longer than necessary, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

  Andy noticed immediately, tilting his head. "What's that look?"

  "I'm thinking," she said, stretching the word.

  "That's dangerous," he muttered, half under his breath, watching her sidelong with a smirk.

  She spun slowly to face him, crossing her arms as if she meant business. "There's got to be something you'd say no to."

  Andy blinked at her, mock-affronted. "Why would you want to hear me say no?"

  "Because I want to know if there's a limit." She leaned in, her voice a conspiring whisper. "A real one. Something I can't bat my lashes through."

  Andy leaned back slightly, eyes half-lidded, amused. "You're testing me?"

  She pretended innocence. "Call it scientific inquiry."

  He huffed a laugh, then scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Alright, hit me. Try your worst."

  She tapped her chin with exaggerated seriousness. "What if I demanded you get a tattoo of my GitHub username?"

  He choked on a laugh. "Okay, depending on the username, that might be a line."

  She grinned. "SummerBug underscore 42."

  "Hmm. Not even like... MoonlightGoddess?" He made a show of considering it. "I could work with that. The underscore might kill me, though."

  Summer leaned back with a smug little tilt of her head. "So, you would deny me."

  "Temporarily," he said smoothly. "Until I could bribe Johannes into doing it in invisible ink."

  She squinted at him. "Invisible tattoos aren't real."

  "They are," he said, mock offended. "Look it up. UV ink. I could glow in the dark. Just for you."

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Summer sputtered a laugh. "Oh my god. Okay, what if I asked you to come to a twelve-hour hackathon? No breaks. Just code. And debugging. And high-stakes caffeine."

  He slowed his step slightly, as if considering freezing in horror. "Summer. Be reasonable."

  "Aha," she said triumphantly.

  "That's not a request, that's a war crime."

  "Are you telling me you would abandon me at a hackathon?"

  "I would build you a throne out of empty energy drink cans and worship you from the safe distance of six feet," Andy said solemnly. "But no. Not twelve hours."

  She snickered. "You're ridiculous."

  "You like me that way."

  "I do," she admitted, soft again. "But I'm still going to keep trying to break your streak."

  "Bring it on, software nymph," he said, heading past the magazines. "Just remember — every 'no' comes with a yes to something else. Like another dress."

  She made a noise like a scandalized gasp. "You said one."

  "I meant one today," he replied, flashing her a grin.

  Summer's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I should make you go to a crafting circle next."

  "Already signed up for next Saturday," Andy said smoothly. "I knit angry little bats now."

  Summer groaned. "Why are you like this?"

  "Because I'm in trouble," he said, smiling crookedly. "Big, soft, whipped trouble."

  She nudged him with her shoulder, then tugged him gently toward the sci-fi and fantasy shelves. "Okay, one more test."

  He followed obediently. "Bring it."

  "What if I asked you to read a whole ten-volume series I love, just so we could talk about it?"

  He laughed. "I was going to do that anyway."

  Summer stopped walking and gave a little noise of despair. "You are literally unstoppable."

  Andy leaned closer, kissed the crown of her head, and whispered against her hair, "Only for you."

  She grumbled, "You're ruining my experiment."

  "You say that like it wasn't designed to fail."

  Summer smiled, and reached for a hardcover, examining the back like the world might end. Andy trailed behind her with narrowed eyes as she tucked it under the stack of paperbacks in her hands and eyed another. He watched her calculating the total in her head, clearly trying to decide if she could justify it, and stepped up beside her with quiet determination.

  "I'm getting these," he said, reaching for the books.

  Summer danced just out of reach. "Absolutely not."

  He blinked. "What do you mean, not?"

  "I mean these are mine," she said. "And I'm paying for them."

  Andy looked genuinely affronted. "So I can buy you silk chiffon that makes me weak in the knees, but not a ten-dollar paperback?"

  Summer gave him a look, then turned to the clerk with a warm smile as she paid. Only when they were walking out, the paper bag of books weighing down one hand, did she answer.

  "I spent a long time," she said quietly, "not having enough to buy anything for myself that wasn't absolutely necessary. Food, rent, heat — yes. But books? Jewellery? Even chocolate or ice cream?" She shook her head. "Those were luxuries I trained myself not to want."

  Andy's steps slowed. "Summer — "

  She glanced up at him, her expression calm but not quite unreadable. "The dress was a moment. A big one. I let it happen because it felt like magic, and because you were so — relentless." She gave him a little nudge with her elbow. "But books? Books are mine. I can afford them now. I want to buy them myself."

  He was quiet for a few paces. Then: "You know I don't want to... take anything from you. Or make you feel like I'm trying to buy your affection."

  "I know," she said softly, and slid her free hand into his. "You're sweet. But it's not about you, it's about me. I need to feel like I can still take care of myself, even when someone wonderful is spoiling me rotten."

  Andy grinned at that. "Wonderful, huh?"

  Summer rolled her eyes, but her fingers tightened around his. "Don't let it go to your head."

  "Too late." He bumped her shoulder gently. "Ice cream next?"

  "Yes," she said. "And that one, you can pay for."

  "Oh, thank god," he said dramatically. "I was starting to feel useless."

  She laughed, warm and quiet. "You? Never."