The album does well. It does more than well, and Celine has interview after interview coming for her, and she says that she owes the album's success to the production crew—especially to Rhysand.

Andy feels so proud.

"You're watching another again," Rhysand mutters, burying his head in her stomach, tightening his arms around her small body.

Andy grins, turning up the volume of her phone. Another of Celine's interviews just came out this morning. "She keeps saying RH. And I'm proud. That's my man!"

"You're embarrassing," he says sleepily.

Andy runs her free hand across the soft strands of his hair. "You did so well, babe. I mean, it cost us a nasty fight, but you're so talented. Look, the question is about the making—she said RH again!"

"Turn it off," he grumbles, slapping her phone away until it lands on the bed. "I'm reminded of how shitty I was to you while I was making it."

Andy's smile softens. She bends down to kiss the top of his head. "It's still beautiful, though. I love it. It's the first album you produced at Sterling."

"Thank you," Rhysand murmurs in her shirt, shifting to lay more comfortably in her lap. "You wanna get groceries? We're out of those strawberry-flavored snacks that you like."

"Take a nap first and we'll go," Andy says, massaging his scalp. "I have a list of things we need to get, thank you for reminding me about my snacks."

Rhysand hums and closes his eyes.

And later, at the grocery store, Andy wears his college shirt and his cap, pairing it with denim shorts and her sneakers. The shirt is big, its sleeves reaching her elbows, but Andy loves it anyway.

Rhysand does, too. He pushes the cart and tosses in cheese. "Where did you even find that?"

"When I was cleaning out your closet a few weeks ago." She grins and twirls around. "Like it?"

"You look small," he says, pulling the hem of the shirt towards him, and Andy stumbles forward forcefully, placing her palms on Rhysand's chest to keep from falling. Rhysand leans his head down to kiss her lips quickly, then he lightly flicks her forehead. "And you smell like me."

"Which means you like it."

"'Course I do, you're cute as fuck," he murmurs, adjusting the cap on her head, gently brushing her loose strands of hair away from her face. "What's next on the list?"

"Milk," she says. She takes the cart away from him, pushing it with a run and hopping onto the metal bar that holds its rear wheels together.

"Baby, stop that," Rhysand calls behind her, but it's flat and distracted, and Andy turns her head to see him choosing between two types of milk.

Andy turns the cart around and does it again, setting her foot down as soon as she reaches him. "What are you deciding on?"

"This one is what J likes," he mutters, raising his left hand. "This one is what I like." He raises his right hand.

Andy bites her lip, trying to keep her smile in. "We'll get both, then. What do you usually buy?"

"The one he likes." He scrunches his nose.

Andy doesn't know the difference, but it's sweet he chooses what Jenner likes instead of his own. She grabs the two cartons and places them inside the cart. "Okay, done, come on."

Andy hops onto the metal again, intending to push it forward with her other foot, but Rhysand gets behind her and runs, pushing the cart for her.

The cart rolls too fast. "Rhysand!" she shouts, laughing, eyes wide. She steps on the ground when she gets to the end of the aisle, afraid to bump into another person, but she stumbles as she does so because of the cart's speed. "Babe!" She twists around to glare at him. "I could've fallen!"

"Told you to stop it," he says nonchalantly, pushing her off the cart and walking it forward. "What's next on the list?"

*

It takes time, but when Andy wears a skirt on her own again, it feels good. A little daunting, but freeing. Andy's proud of herself.

Rhysand picked her up today. Andy doesn't know why, but it's sweet of him to leave work early. He smiles when he sees her and takes out the lollipop stick in his mouth. "You're not cold?"

She jumps in his arms. Rhysand easily catches her. "The sweater makes up for it," she murmurs, kissing his jaw in greeting.

"Proud of you, sunshine," he says, and Andy's heart melts.

She grins at him and pulls back, interlacing their fingers together. "What's the occasion? Why are you out of Sterling so early?"

The corner of his lips turn up. He's standing, feet stable on the ground, while Andy's jumping and moving, swinging their arms together, raising them and twirling herself around like they're dancing. They must look silly, but Andy doesn't care. She's happy she can dress the way she wants today without any fear.

"I was promoted."

Andy stills immediately, dropping his arm. Her jaw drops first, and she covers her mouth with her hands. "Really?" she whispers.

Rhysand's smile grows wider. "Yeah. Wanted you to be the first to know."

Andy's eyes are wide. "Oh my God, Rhysand. That is...that's great. That's—you deserve it. Congratulations."

"Can we celebrate?" he asks quietly, taking her hand again. Squeezes their fingers. "You have time for me?"

Andy has been busy with her shifts and with schoolwork. She squeezes his hand back and nods repeatedly. "Yes, of course, I'm sorry I've been busy."

He shakes his head and steps back to open the passenger door. "S'okay, you have school and work, sunshine. As long as we celebrate today."

Andy nods, smiling, and takes his hand to step up the Jeep.

Rhysand drives with one hand on the wheel.

All Rhysand wants is simple—fast food for dinner, and then milkshakes in the Jeep. They open the trunk and sit facing the hill, and Rhysand leans his head on her shoulder.

At home, when they kiss, Rhysand keeps his hand on her waist, the other cups her jaw and tilts her head further. She presses harder, grips his shoulders, moves forward on his lap. His hand slips under her sweater, strokes her skin with his fingers, and Andy wants more.

"You can touch," she breathes in his mouth, kisses him again. Rhysand's eyebrows draw together. "You can touch me."

"I don't want to force you," he murmurs, moving to her jawline and neck and collarbone, pulling her sweater aside for more access.

"Want your touch," she says, hanging her head back, panting. "Want yours only."

Rhysand pulls back. He searches her face, concerned. "Sunshine, I don't care if I can't yet, you don't have to—"

Andy snatches his hand and places it under her skirt. Where the man had touched her.

Rhysand hasn't touched her there ever since it happened. And it might've scared her, might've terrified her if she wasn't brave, but she is, she is now, and she wants Rhysand, wants his touch alone. "Want yours only," she repeats softly, kissing him again, keeping her hand over his. "Want your touch only, want it forever. Yours."

Rhysand kisses her back. His touch is safe. Wanted. "I'm yours, baby," he says, and his eyes are full of love and complete admiration and Andy wants those eyes to look at her like that forever. "Always yours."

Andy has tears in her eyes. Her chest feels warm, and in her head are mindless, repeating thoughts, all shouting I love him, I love him, I love him. She tugs at his shirt. "I want you," she whispers, biting her lip.

She wants Rhysand forever. That will never change.

Rhysand starts to shake his head, but Andy shifts, moving to the bed. She curls her hand over the nape of his neck and pulls Rhysand down with her until her back meets the sheets. He leans over her, elbows on either side of her shoulders, holding up his weight.

He stares at her, eyebrows furrowing together. "Sunshine."

"Please," Andy whispers, pulling him down for a kiss. "I'm ready this time. If you want to."

Rhysand dips his head, pressing his forehead to hers. "You tell me if something feels wrong."

"Yes," Andy says, nodding, fingers threading into the hair behind his neck. "I will."

Rhysand kisses her lips. Then her cheeks, then her nose, then her eyes, then her forehead.

When he pulls away, moving to her jaw and neck, grazing his teeth on her skin, Andy grabs his wrist, presses a gentle kiss on the sun there, and whispers, "I love you. I love you so much."

Rhysand's breath catches, fingers trembling against her cheek. "With all that I know of the word, sunshine," he whispers back, and his voice cracks, and Andy knows she is fiercely loved. He takes her blank wrist in return and gently kisses her pulse point. "I love you. I'm going to take care of you. Okay?"

Andy doesn't doubt him. Not for one second. She nods, and her heart is beating strong and fast, and she wonders if Rhysand can hear it.

She doesn't mind if he does.