It’s sad and it’s intoxicating at the same time. It’s the way we kiss when we’re saying goodbye, when we’re borrowing time, when we know we can’t be.

The kiss is born of longing, forged in a wish that can’t come true.

I want it too much. I want to forget all the reasons why he’s a mistake. I want to be his Marilyn right now, and his Angel, and his Sabrina.

“Say my name,” I whisper, breaking the kiss. “I want to hear you say my name.”

“Sabrina,” he says. His voice is rougher than I’ve heard before, and it turns me liquid. I’m silver and gold, and I want him to kiss me forever and ever. This kind of bittersweet kiss, this kind of stolen kiss in a costume shop, hearkens back to our first secret kiss.

But when Rita laughs loudly, the sound of her amusement is a sharp reminder that we’re playing with fire.

We break apart.

Because we have to.

I clear my throat, trying to center myself. I can’t think. I can’t speak. “Maybe I should buy a . . .” I don’t know how to finish the sentence.

“A fox mask?”

“If it meant I could have you, I would.”

But there’s no real way to hide who I am, or what I need.

I need a job, and if I’m in love with the man I’m covering, then my story goes up in smoke, and any possible future with Up Next turns to ash.

21

Flynn

“Now, if we can just have this smart home make me eggs and toast in the morning, I’ll be all set.”

The morning news anchor, Camilla Montes, smiles and laughs in that isn’t-it-amazing way that morning news anchors have.

“We’re working on that, Camilla, and we hope to get there soon,” I tell her, since I’ve finished showing her all the cool features of Haven.

“Thank you so much for joining us today, Flynn, and we are so excited that our homes are now becoming brilliant robots that can deliver whatever we need at the sound of our voices.” She flashes a lipsticked smile, with gleaming white teeth. “Also, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out you remain on our list of the most eligible bachelors in New York City. Any chance that’ll change soon?”

I laugh lightly. Jennica briefed me that Camilla might toss a curveball with a personal question—the morning news show ran a list of eligible bachelors recently, so I’m not surprised.

“Is there somebody on the horizon?” she adds.

As I briefly consider whether I want to admit anything on air, I picture Sabrina, her sparkling hazel eyes; her mischievous smile; her wild, warm heart; and her sense of adventure. How I want her to be the one on the horizon. I do. I just do.

Even if we hadn’t kissed yesterday, I’d want a chance with her with the same fierce desire I had when I first wanted to build this company.