BooksBarbecue
Back Any Way the Wind Blows
Chapters (100)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. 80
  84. 81
  85. 82
  86. 83
  87. 84
  88. 85
  89. 86
  90. 87
  91. 88
  92. 89
  93. 90
  94. 91
  95. EPILOGUE
  96. AGATHA
  97. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  98. Also by Rainbow Rowell
  99. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  100. Newsletter Sign-up

Baz’s mouth is slightly open, and his eyebrows have pulled up in the middle. “You … love me?”

BAZ

Snow nods. “Yeah,” he says, “of course.”

Like it’s obvious.

It isn’t obvious. It has not been obvious.

“You never said,” I say.

“Haven’t I?”

“No.”

He frowns. “I thought—I mean … I’ve killed so many things for you.”

I laugh. It might be another sob, but maybe it’s just a laugh. “What are you, a house cat? Am I supposed to know how you feel because you brought me a mouse?”

The corner of Snow’s mouth twitches. “I brought you a cow once, remember? And I killed that chimera for you in fifth year.”

“You killed it near me. There’s a difference.”

He reaches a hand up towards my face, then hesitates.

I hesitate, too—I feel torn in every direction—then I slowly close the distance.

Snow’s thumb connects with my chin. He tucks his knuckles under my jaw. He swallows, and it’s a whole show. “I do,” he says. “Love you.”

I close my eyes for a moment. Like I’m trying to trap his words in my head. Then I open them again. “What about … everything else?”

“What else?”

“Everything you said last night. About magic.”

“Oh. Well, I meant all of that. I still mean it.”

I shake my head. “Fucking hell, Snow.”

He holds on to my chin. “I don’t want to live in the World of Mages, Baz—I want a Normal life. But maybe we could, like, meet in between?”

“In between.”

“Like, you do your thing. Magic. And I’ll do mine. And we don’t have to talk about it all the time.”

“You said it makes you miserable, that I remind you of everything you’ve lost.”

“Well, I can work on that.”

“Can you?”

“Yeah…” He reaches his fingers up my cheek and sucks one side of his bottom lip into his mouth. (It’s an entire Joni Mitchell song. It’s a Mercury Prize.) “Yeah,” he says, letting his lip go. “Maybe when I feel that way, I’ll turn it into being glad that I didn’t lose you, as well.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “This is you trying, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.” There’s a lightness in his expression that I haven’t seen for so long. I want more of it. Even if I can’t trust it.

“If we do this”—my chin hits his palm with every syllable—“I want the full Simon Snow treatment.”

“What does that mean?”

“I want the locked jaw. The squinty eyes. The shoulders.”

He wrinkles his forehead. “The shoulders?”

“I want you to slay a dragon before you give up on me, do you understand?”

“I thought you didn’t like it when I slew dragons…”