Andy drew in a sharp breath, still holding Summer close, his fingers curled lightly around the satin of the corset.

  "What?" she asked, noticing the sudden shift in his energy.

  He pulled back just enough to look at her properly, blue eyes burning. "I wish I could take you with me," he said. "To some ridiculous, over-the-top gala or red carpet event. One of those parties where everyone's overdressed and pretending to be more interesting than they are. Let everyone look. Let them stare. So I could say — look at this woman. She's not just beautiful, she's kind, and sharp, and funny, and she's mine."

  Summer's breath caught. Her fingers curled loosely in the fabric of his hoodie. "You really think that?"

  "I know it." Andy's voice dropped, reverent. "You're everything I didn't think I'd find. I want the world to see you. And know how goddamn lucky I am."

  Summer blinked, caught somewhere between breathless and flustered. "Andy..."

  He cupped the back of her head. "I want them to see you. Not like a prize. Like... proof. That someone like you could choose someone like me."

  "I don't care about those parties," Summer whispered, heart racing.

  "I know," Andy said. "But I do. Just enough to want them to know I'm not theirs. I belong to you now." His voice had gone husky. "They'd all want to talk to me, but I wouldn't want anyone else's attention but yours. I'd just want to watch you glow in that room."

  "I've never been to anything like that," she admitted, cheeks pink. "Not the glowing kind of girl."

  "You're already glowing, Summer," Andy said. "You just don't see it."

  She looked down at the corset again, then back up at him. "Would you really want to show me off like that?"

  He smirked. "Oh, sweetheart. You have no idea."

  Summer's eyes softened as she searched his face. "But what if I trip in heels? Or say something weird and awkward? Or — God — spill something down the front of my dress?"

  Andy laughed, low and warm. "Then you'd be human. And still the most captivating thing in the room." He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. "Besides, I like when you say weird things. It means you're thinking. And heels are optional."

  "You're so sure about me," she whispered, a little wonder in her voice.

  Andy nodded. "Yeah. I am. I've met people who shine on the outside and dim the second they talk. You're not like that. You burn. Quietly. Constantly."

  Summer swallowed hard. "You're going to break me, saying things like that."

  "I'd rather lift you," he murmured, kissing her temple. "Put you somewhere no one can miss how extraordinary you are."

  She bit her lip. "Okay," she said softly. "Then... maybe I'll let you show me off someday. But only if you let me see you in a corset first."

  Andy gave her a slow, wicked grin. "Deal." He disappeared into his closet with the purposeful chaos of a man on a mission. Hangers clinked, drawers opened and shut, and Summer sat back on the edge of his bed, watching him with growing curiosity.

  "Found it," he declared at last, stepping out with a triumphant glint in his eye. He held up a pair of sleek black leggings and a dark red underbust corset, the kind that shimmered subtly in the light with fine detailing around the edges.

  "Ooh," Summer breathed, eyes widening as she took in the pieces. "You actually wear that?"

  Andy smirked, setting the corset carefully on the bed beside her and draping the leggings over the footboard. "Of course I do. Well-trained, remember?"

  She tilted her head. "But... how do you get into it by yourself? I mean, the laces are in the back."

  He waggled his eyebrows. "Training, muscle memory, and a lot of wriggling."

  "That sounds like a workout."

  "Oh, it is. Courtesan core strength," Andy said, mock-formal, as he pulled the hoodie off over his head in one quick move. "Besides, if I needed help, that's what you're here for, isn't it?"

  She blinked. "Wait, me?"

  He grinned and tossed the hoodie onto the bed. "Well, I could always suffer through it alone... " he said with exaggerated melancholy, "but if my beautiful girlfriend insisted on tying me up, I suppose I could accept."

  Summer flushed a little and slowly reached for the corset. "I suppose I could be persuaded." She ran her fingers over the smooth fabric. "But you have to let me watch you struggle into the leggings first."

  Andy laughed, low and delighted. "Deal. But no laughing if I hop." He peeled off his jeans and tossed them aside with theatrical flair, leaving him in a pair of sleek black briefs that clung a little too well. She perched on the edge of the bed with the corset in her lap, eyes wide, lips twitching.

  He raised an eyebrow at her. "What did I just say about no laughing?"

  "I'm not laughing," Summer said, trying to sound innocent. "I'm appreciating. Artistically."

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  Andy chuckled and stepped into the leggings, pulling them up slowly, smoothing them over his thighs and hips with the careful precision of someone who knew exactly what he was doing — and who was acutely aware he had an audience. The fabric hugged him like a second skin, emphasizing long legs, narrow hips, the sleek lines of his body.

  "Still artistic appreciation?" he teased.

  "Possibly bordering on worship," Summer murmured, hugging the corset to her chest. "You're really not real, are you?"

  He turned, checking himself out in the mirror with a satisfied hum. "I assure you, I'm very real. Want to check for seams?"

  She rolled her eyes, grinning, and held out the corset. "Turn around, show-off."

  Andy obeyed with a small shiver of anticipation, standing straight as she rose and stepped behind him. He fastened the front busk with practised quickness while she sorted out the laces. Her fingers were tentative at first, gently tugging. As she worked, he caught her reflection in the mirror — lips slightly parted in concentration, brow furrowed as she tugged and tightened.

  "You're very good at this," he said softly.

  "I'm terrified of hurting you," Summer admitted.

  "You won't," he promised. "Corsets aren't meant to suffocate. They're meant to sculpt." He looked over his shoulder at her. "And this one? Is for effect. There, that’s just right."

  "Effect achieved," she whispered, tying off the laces and smoothing her hands down his back.

  He turned slowly, the red corset gleaming against the black of his leggings, his arms loose at his sides, his eyes shining. "Do I meet your Persephone standards?"

  Summer stared, absolutely arrested. "You're beautiful," she said, as if the truth had punched its way out of her.

  Andy stepped closer, a flicker of vulnerability showing through the usual performance. "I want you to see me like this. Not just the boy in jeans and eyeliner. This too."

  "I do," she said, reaching up to cup his face. "All of it."

  Andy pulled Summer close, his hands sliding reverently down the curve of her waist, fingers following the boning of the corset she wore. "Look at you," he whispered, voice hushed with wonder. "You have no idea what you do to me."

  Summer's breath caught as his palms settled on her hips, firm and possessive. "I might have some idea," she said, lifting her eyes to his, cheeks pink.

  He grinned, slow and wicked. "Oh, you sweet little goddess. Still not enough."

  She let her fingers rest lightly on the red satin of his corset, tracing the lines of it as she murmured, "This should be illegal. You're too — " Her words faltered as he dipped his head to press a kiss beneath her ear.

  "I'm yours," Andy murmured. "All this, silk and shadow and sharp devotion? Yours."

  She laughed, but it softened quickly into a little gasp as he kissed the corner of her mouth and ran his hands lower, past the corset's edge, down to the soft curve of her hips.

  "I could write volumes," he whispered. "About the way you look in my mirror. How your eyes changed when I touched your shoulder. How I could feel your heartbeat through the laces."

  Summer swallowed hard. "You're not supposed to be the one who's breathless." She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding tight. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

  Andy grinned and caught one of Summer's hands, unwinding it with a flourish and spinning her gently under his arm. She laughed, half-stumbling, her red hair flaring behind her as she turned. The corset she wore hugged her tightly, while her soft jeans and bare feet made the whole look delightfully absurd. "You're a menace," she told him breathlessly when she stopped, swaying slightly.

  "Mm, a fashionable menace," Andy countered, his eyes gleaming as they roamed her figure with warm appreciation. "You know, I could get dangerously into dressing you up."

  Summer's brows lifted, amused and flustered all at once. "Dangerously?"

  "Oh yes." Andy stepped back slightly, his hands skimming her sides, thoughtful. "You'd look like a dream in dark velvet. Maybe something off-the-shoulder, to show off your collarbones. Or leather. Soft leather with silver trim — sharp and divine. Boots that lace up your calves. I'd do your makeup too. Dark lips, smoky eyes. I'd build you a wardrobe worthy of mythology."

  Her eyes widened. "You've thought about this."

  "Oh, I dream about it," he said, voice low and theatrical. "I've got a whole folder of images."

  Summer stared at him, visibly overwhelmed. "You're dangerous," she whispered.

  "I'm serious," he said, tugging her close again. "I want to spoil you rotten and make people wonder how I got so lucky. Picture it — my arm around you, your mouth painted wine-dark, some wicked little dress that makes you feel unstoppable."

  Summer leaned into him, her smile turning sly. "And what would you be wearing?"

  Andy raised an eyebrow and purred, "Whatever makes you blush the most."

  She giggled, then shifted in Andy's arms, trying to find a comfortable way to lean against him with the corset laced snug around her. "I can't really slouch in this," she muttered, wriggling a little. "It's weird not being able to just... melt against you."

  Andy chuckled and steadied her by the waist. "That's part of the charm, sweetheart. Corsets make you hold yourself like you're royalty. Which you are."

  She hesitated, then looked away, voice falling quiet. "Would you really think I was beautiful all dressed up? Or is that the point — so I'll look different. Better."

  Andy went very still.

  "Because I know I'm not like the women you're used to. I don't wear lipstick to check the mail or, or... own stilettos. I wear swingy pants and tunics and wander around barefoot."

  "Hey. No."

  She met his eyes, uncertain.

  "I don't want to dress you up because I think you're lacking," he said, voice firm now. "I want to dress you up because it would be fun. Because you'd feel like a queen and know what I already see. I want to dress you up because you're already the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. You wear tracksuits and t-shirts and I still get distracted when you walk into a room. But when you let me add to that? When you let me highlight everything I already adore? That's not about making you worthy — it's about celebrating what's already mine."

  She swallowed, eyes stinging a little.

  Andy leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth. "I see you, Summer. Every version. And I fall harder each time."

  Summer breathed out, shaky and quiet, and leaned her forehead against Andy's shoulder. "You're unfair," she whispered. "You say things like that and I don't even know what to do with myself."

  Andy's hands slid down to her waist again, fingers tracing the lines of the corset. "Then let me help," he murmured. "Let me show you what I see. Not just with clothes. Or kisses. With everything."

  She tried to speak, but the lump in her throat made the words wobble. "You... you really mean that?"

  "I do." Andy tipped her chin up. "I don't need you in silk and chiffon to want you. I want you when you've been coding for six hours and your eyes are wild and your hair's a mess. I want you in pyjama pants, half-asleep with your nut bar still in hand. But when I get to dress you up? That's just another kind of worship. Not obligation. Not correction. Celebration.

  "You make me want to come home, Summer. You make me want a future. That's terrifying and amazing, and I am not going to pretend I'm casual about it."

  Her laugh caught in her throat. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his chest. "You don't have to pretend anything with me."

  "I know," he said, kissing the top of her head. "That's why I'm falling so hard."

  Summer's arms tightened around him. "You're not real," she mumbled into his shoulder. "You can't be real."

  Andy's smile was against her temple. "That's rich coming from Persephone herself."

  She gave a choked laugh. "You're going to ruin me."

  He tilted her chin up again and whispered, "Only if you let me."