Kate watches me with an amused smile as I tug on my jacket and grab my phone. “I’m assuming this mad dash has to do with that lovely little note you got. And the person whose sweatshirt you’re wearing.”

“Jamie,” I say breathlessly. Unlocking my phone, I text him the way we started, no preamble, no flowery greeting. A chess joke. The corniest one yet. I hope it makes him smile. I hope it tells him everything he needs to know. That I got his note; that I’m sorry, too; that we’re free to be together.

That I can’t take another minute not running headlong toward him.

“Wish me luck!” I tell Kate as I sprint out of the room.

I barely catch her voice before I drag the door shut: “Good luck!”

—

Running is generally an unwise choice for me. Especially when my shoelaces are untied. But I don’t care. I sprint down the sidewalk, cold air burning my lungs, sun-gold, bronze, and amber leaves swept into the autumn wind, nature’s confetti swirling around me.

I’m one block away, my boots thudding into the ground, when the door to his building whips open.

Jamie. Sprinting toward me, totally disheveled. Tall and straight-backed, arms pumping. Perfect running form, I’m sure. And yet his buttons are one off, his glasses halfway down his nose. The waves of his hair are wet and loose, wild in the wind.

I don’t stop as we get close. I leap at him the way I did that night at the Alley. Our bodies collide, and my heart clatters like bowling pins with the strike of our kiss. It’s a never forget this kiss. A best kiss of my life kiss. An I always want to kiss only you kiss.

“Bea,” he whispers against my mouth. His arms lock around me.

“Jamie.” My hands are in his hair, cupping his face. I study him reverently, tracing the sharp, handsome planes of his face. The lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, his nose. The soft part of his mouth. The heat burning in his hazel eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him through tears. I kiss his forehead, his cupid’s bow, the corner of his mouth. I want to kiss all of him and never stop. “I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry for how I said it, how I asked for time—”

“Don’t be,” he says quietly. “I told you in my note, I understand now.”

Our eyes meet. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, until I can’t see him anymore. The world is blurry as tears flood my vision.

“I missed you,” I whisper, wiping my eyes.

His face warms with a soft, just-for-me smile. “I missed you, too,” he says quietly. My patient, gentle Jamie, kissing my forehead, breathing me in. “So much. What’s changed? Is Juliet—”