“What if you’re stuck in the hospital for Thanksgiving? At least consider it. It would only be for a few hours. I can drive you back that night. Plus, my family is like me. They wouldn’t make you feel awkward, and my friends are dying to meet you.”

A cold sweat starts across my forehead. I brush my temples, trying to relieve the feeling.

“I’m not trying to pressure you.” Cade grazes his fingertips across my side. “I honestly thought it would be an easy decision if your dad was still in the hospital. Plus, I wondered what kind of Thanksgiving you normally have. We have the whole traditional feast. We banter and joke and play games.”

That does sound nice. Thanksgiving usually consists of me heating up pre-prepared mashed potatoes and sliced turkey. I haven’t quite gotten up the courage to make an entire turkey by myself, and I’ve been cooking it for him since I was about twelve, so it seems like our tradition now.

Even if it is pathetic. And it is.

“That sounds really fun.” I watch as his gaze darts to my smile, then up to my eyes. “And I want to meet your family and friends. I don’t know that this is the right time, though, considering my dad. But if I’m stuck in the hospital, I promise to think about it.”

He shrugs. “I guess I’ll tell them to cancel the extra plate.”

“Cade, you didn’t…”

He grins. “No, I didn’t. I would never do that without verifying with you first, but I liked seeing your face.”

I hit him with my elbow again. “That was mean.”

He grunts, shielding his ribs from another attack. “I missed your smile and wanted to see it again.”

His gaze searches mine, and he’s right. His little joke fills me with warmth again. I move in, stare dropping to his lips momentarily. “You are a sweet-talker.”

He cups my cheek, pressing his lips to mine. It’s a short, sincere kiss. Not the kind of passionate ones we share in private, but for some reason, I’m so thankful for this one. For the way his lips linger. For the way I get to breathe him in. It reinforces our connection on what’s been a terrible twenty-four hours.

“Get a room.”

He tears his lips from mine. Scowling, he peers up, and I follow his eyes.

“Is that a hockey player?” West asks.

“Well, that was embarrassing.” I giggle slightly, feeling uncomfortable now. A pit opens in my stomach and I wish it would swallow me whole.

Cade grips my leg, still staring at the guy. “Hey, you should fuck off.”

The guy is at the counter now, waving his hand dismissively.

Cade twists, peering at me, then to where I’m seated, like he wants me to move over.

“Whoa. Hey.” I stay where I am. “What are you doing?”

“Yeah, come on,” West says. “He’s being a dick. Ever since people started showing up to their games, they think they’re the big guys on campus.”

Cade eyes me, but I eye him right back. “Why? Who cares?” I whisper.

He swallows. “Because I know how much it takes for you to do that sort of thing in public, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some asshole make you feel bad about it.”

The guy at the counter is handed a bag and turns to walk out of the restaurant, smiling widely for Cade as he does.

“I don’t care what he thinks. He’s probably been hit in the head too many times.”

But embarrassment still washes over me. Not just about the kiss, about this whole thing because plenty of people in the restaurant are looking at us now.

“I don’t feel like fighting today. Please,” West begs. “Plus, we have a game tomorrow.”

“Fine. I’d like to go to the bathroom, though,” he grits out, still waiting for me to move.

I hesitate a second, wondering if he’s only trying to make it past me to get to the stupid guy. This is so unlike him. I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say an angry word to someone. He usually uses humor to deescalate situations, not start them.