“And we’ll cross it together.” He dipped his chin, pressing a quick kiss to the tips of my fingers. “We’ll figure it out together. That’s all we can do, because you just got me back. I just got you back. We have what so many people never have—a second chance. We deserve that, and we’re still going to have to fight for it. What could happen years from now is not going to steal every day between now and then from us. That’s what it will do if we stress over it now.”

He was right. There was already enough threatening to take away that second chance. It would be hard not to worry about it, just like it was hard not to stress over my vision, but I’d learned to not let what would eventually happen get in the way of living. Just like he couldn’t let what he’d done when he first Fell change who he was now.

Zayne’s lips brushed over mine in a sweet, soft kiss, and I opened up, letting him in. All the many concerns fell to the wayside. That was how powerful his kisses were. Or maybe that was just how powerful my love for him was.

And God, I would never get tired of how his lips felt against mine. I would never not be awed by how the gentle and questioning press of his mouth to mine could elicit such a maddening rush of sensations from me.

Slipping my hands up to his shoulders, I tugged on him until I felt the warmth of his skin through my shirt. The edges of his hair tickled my cheeks as I nipped on his lower lip.

There was an answering rumble from deep inside his throat that curled my toes. The kiss deepened, and the air around us seemed to crackle. There was a razor-sharp, almost desperate edge to the way our mouths met, and I imagined it was hitting us right then how incredibly lucky we were that we got to experience this again. It wasn’t that what we’d done in the pool hadn’t counted. It had, and it, too, had been powerful. Those early-morning hours had been proof that Zayne had still been in there, that his love for me was still guiding his actions. This was different, though, because it was us.

We got a little lost in just...in just kissing. There were soft and achingly sweet ones. Kisses that were teasing and playful. Then there were the ones that left me aching and breathless. All of them were my favorite, because it was Zayne who I was kissing.

More than anything I wanted to lose myself in him, to forget about everything. And I think he did, too, but he lifted his head after one last drugging kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, his voice as unsteady as the breaths he took.