Wren

“You didn’t have to get anything, Birdie.” Ezra clips my seatbelt for me.

My cheeks burn. “I can’t just go to a little boy’s birthday party empty-handed.”

He pauses, gaze heating up my skin and then he leans in and kisses me. It’s a small peck, gone before I can think about it, but my lips tingle nonetheless.

“You’re amazing,” he praises, smacking his lips and turning the ignition.

I just stare, heart palpitating in my chest, and my whole body reddens.

The ease ...