Owe him? She didn't look upset about it. No, to the contrary, she was still that pretty shade of pink and they were holding hands, and she was leaning toward him.

"Christine," he hummed, sitting forward, "you don't have to."

He leaned down, hands gliding close under hers, and brushed their lips together.

It was different, smooth-cool and soft and all female. She didn't pull away.

His next words ghosted away from him, traced hot shadows against her face. "But I would like it."