He scrunched his nose. “Okay?”

“I mean,” I said, wanting to diffuse the insult I saw on his face, “I didn’t really trust Nikki and Elyse at the time, and I felt like if they met you they might flirt with you—especially at that dance—and I would have been a ball of rage.”

His brows lifted skyward in understanding. “Oh.”

“And also . . .” I glanced back down again, finding it easier to say these things to my lap. “This is sort of our little bubble.” I gestured vaguely around the room. “And when I met Emma, it changed that for me. Before, she was just a name, and I could pretend that you didn’t have more time with her every week than you had with me.”

“But I don’t, Mace—”

“I’m just using that example,” I explained, looking back up. “I wasn’t sure that you would really want to have a face to put with these names I’m spending time with.”

Some clarity washed over him. “Oh. I think I get it.”

I think he did.

“There’s a guy who likes you.”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

“There’s a few guys. And they were at the dance. And you and I are a weird noncouple, and you weren’t sure how to . . .” He let the words trail off before saying, “You didn’t want me to end up feeling like the outsider.”

I pulled my legs under me on the futon. “Yeah. I just think it could have been weird. You’re not my outside, you’re my every side. But in the moment, you might not have seen it that way, or believed me.” I looked up at him, hastily adding, “Just . . . speaking from my experience with the Emma thing.”

“Okay,” he murmured.

“I want you in my whole life,” I said carefully, stepping a toe out into the vast landscape of More. “I think all the time about how my real fear isn’t other girls, it’s losing you. I’m terrified of what it would feel like if you weren’t in my life anymore.”

His eyes grew tight, his voice reverent: “That won’t ever happen.”

“And if we started . . . and it somehow went wrong . . .” I had to swallow a few times after saying this, tamping down the storm that happened inside me at the prospect of this. “Anyway. I don’t think the dance was the first place to do that. To bring this life into that one. It would have been too much off the bat.”

“I get that.” He stood, walking over to the futon and sitting down next to me. “I told you already, Mace. I want to be your boyfriend.”

Reaching out, he coaxed me to him, until I was leaning against him, and finally laying my head in his lap. He picked his book back up, and I had mine, and I listened to the even rhythm of his breathing.

“You know,” I said, staring up at the ceiling, while he had one hand slowly dragging again and again through my hair, “these books were sort of the perfect gift.”