Chapters (25)
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Acknowledgments
- Also by Dahlia Adler
- About the Author
- Newsletter Sign-up
I don’t know why I let myself get primed for actual romance, but somehow, I got fooled. “That was your nauseatingly romantic goodbye sentiment?” I splutter. “God, you really had me for a second there.”
“That’s not romantic? To feel like being with you is the most comfortable thing in the world but also gives me butterflies? Dude, that’s romantic as fuck.”
“That … actually is pretty romantic,” I concede, “but it’s not what you said the first time.”
“Well, it’s what I’m saying,” he mumbles, tugging his beanie down until it nearly covers his eyes. “Okay?”
I pull him down for a kiss. “Okay.”
His gaze shifts to some point in the distance, as if the drying grass has somehow become the most fascinating thing in the universe. “You get that I’m saying I love you, right?”
Wrapping an arm around his waist, I close my eyes and rest my cheek against his beating heart. “Now I do,” I say, listening to the healthy thump as I feel my own race. “You did it, Grayson. That was officially romantic. Romantic enough for me to tell you that I love you, too, even.”
He grunts in response, but I feel another kiss ghost the top of my head before my parents pull up and he steps away. “Now get in the car, because that was embarrassing and I can’t look directly at you at least until we FaceTime in a few hours.”
“I thought it was six weeks, because you don’t know the difference between a turtle and a groundhog? Which is much more embarrassing, by the way.”
He groans. “I’d like to take everything back now.”
“Don’t you dare.” I rise on my toes one more time and curl my fists into his sweatshirt for a breath-stealing kiss. Hopefully my parents have better things to do than watch us in the rearview. “You’re my turtle-groundhog now, and in the animal kingdom, there are no take backs. It’s very vicious.”
“I have so many regrets,” he mutters, but the way he kisses me, cradling my jaw with strong, callused hands, it’s like he’s never had one in his life.
And maybe I have a few, and always will. But right now, as I get in the car and watch him fade away behind us, knowing he’ll be here when I return, I feel extremely good about my life choices.