*Roxy*

My lips are still tingling.

I can feel the heat of Leo’s hands on my waist, and my heart thuds so hard I think it might echo in the stillness of the sacred space around us.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, and there’s something in his expression I haven’t seen before.

“I was going to wait until tomorrow to tell you,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Let you have the festival and your birthday without anything hanging over your head.”

I blink up at him, still breathless. “You mean about going to Golden Elm?”

“Yes, about Golden Elm.” He swallows, like...