Chapter Ten
Besides the stare down with Remi, my party was fun. It was even better when Sophia went home and I could be closer to Nathan.
“We have to go out,” Emma said. “You haven’t been. Now you’re seventeen. You have to come with us!”
I shook my head, sensing the disaster that would be. “Sorry. One day I will. It’s too soon. My face is still on the news.”
“You guys go ahead, and take Remi with you,” Nathan said. Paul held his hand up to high-five Nathan again. He left him hanging again.
Nathan and I stayed in the dining room after they left, feeding each other cake and kissing, until he smudged chocolate all over my mouth. We cleaned up in the kitchen. Paul, Emma, and ugh Remi, came down in their barhopping clothes to say goodbye.
It was hard to focus on their conversation because Remi’s thoughts were so loud. She was angry, shouting in the kitchen about her missing pictures and camera without moving her mouth. Her mind felt … chaotic and diseased, the polar opposite of what it had been earlier. She’d been plotting then, but calmly. Now, she was in the midst of a storm none of us could see. I pulled away from her clatter, fearing my nose would leak in front of them.
“Happy Birthday,” Emma said, pulling a green gift bag from behind her back. She held it out to me then snatched it back. “Sorry. It’s more of a gift for Nathan.”
She smiled, and Paul snapped them out of the room.
I reached in the bag and pulled out a red bikini. He smiled.
“Is this part two of my birthday?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said. “Emma whipped you up a swimsuit for me, but you were sleeping so long and Sophia called about the party. So it’s part three.”
“Isn’t it cold?”
“Not tonight. And the pool heats up and it’s impossible to be cold around furry animals.” I laughed. “Not that I thought you’d say yes, but I have preheated it.”
He kissed me and I folded. Of course I couldn’t turn him down.
“Meet me down here in ten minutes,” I said.
I ran to my bathroom to shave and stare at myself in the mirror. I needed more boobs for the top. And I was not made to wear a red bikini. Copies of suicidal women should wear black. I looked ridiculous, but I wrapped myself in a towel and went downstairs.
I wanted to run back up when I saw him. He was too perfect to stand next to. Muscles … everywhere, but not too bulky. Just right. Just perfect.
“Ready?” he asked. My answer stalled. I was still staring at him, following the defined lines from his chest to the top of his black trunks. “Is that a no? We don’t have to swim. I’m sure there’s something on TV.”
“No. Swim. Sure,” I babbled.
We walked to the pool. I was too terrified to drop the towel, so I couldn’t hold his hand. And what did he mean it wasn’t cold? It wasn’t serious-winter-cold, but it was definitely too cold to be in a swimsuit.
He turned to jump in, and I saw his bare back, his bare back that had claw marks from his right shoulder to his lower left side.
“Did Remi scratch you?” I screamed. “I’ll kill her!” I couldn’t breathe or feel anything but rage. I was near combustion. I racked my brain, trying to remember what bar they said they were going to. I needed to find her and leave remnants of panther all over the dance floor.
“Baby, relax. Those aren’t scratches. I was born with them. Birth marks,” he said. He reached out to hug me, but I dodged it, going around him to see his back. Two of my fingers fit in each of the four scratches. And they were definitely scratches. Definitely injuries, but old ones.
My eyes watered. “Did John and Theresa do this?” I was about to say I’d kill them, too, but it didn’t come out. Thank God, because he was laughing, making me feel like a psychopath for being so angry.
“Birth marks, babe. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t have them. They didn’t do this. They didn’t abuse me.” He kissed my forehead and chuckled again. “Look at you, trying to protect me from grumpy panthers and parents. You’re so cute, but I think I could take ‘em,” he said, flexing his biceps.
He jumped into the pool, and I sighed. My face could be bloody and terrifying like Paul described. He had no idea how un-cute I could be.
Nate, I’m a copy, I should have yelled. He would’ve heard me, but the thought of saying those words curled my insides in the most painful way. I wouldn’t be able to say for sure that he was safe from me, nor that I was safe from myself. All I had was: My parents were in love. I am in love. And I will try to be different and not act like a copy every day of my life.
I watched him in the water as I trembled, remembering every beautiful moment we’d had together. Playing fetch, popcorn and TV, making out for hours. Coming to life, like Catherine did with Raymond, history repeating itself with her copy.
“It’s warm,” he said, snapping me out of the fog I’d entered. “I swear. Get in here, beautiful.” I adjusted the towel, pulling it tighter. “Okay … take your time.”
He swam away to the other end of the pool. I pulled off the towel, calmed by his voice, by him calling me beautiful, but wishing I’d taken up working out as a hobby. I dipped my toes in the warm water. I didn’t see him until he was close enough to grab me. He yanked me into the pool. His sneaky smile should’ve warned me that he was about to push me under.
He pinched my nose and the warm water rushed over my head. I could hear him laughing. Even though I felt safe, I kicked and squirmed until he pulled me up.
“See? I told you it was warm.” I splashed a pathetic amount of water on him. “Do you know how to swim?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of isn’t good enough,” he said, chuckling. “So we’ll stay in the shallow end. Unless … you want to learn. I taught myself recently, in a lake. I was taking a bath and just decided to swim.”
“So … you were skinny dipping?”
He laughed and winked. I looked down at the water. I would miss his eyes the most.
He nudged my chin up with his finger. He rubbed my cheek, and I puckered for a steamy moonlit kiss. He laughed instead. “You have a little snot situation happening.”
I groaned and went underwater to hide from him and wipe my face. He pulled me up, laughing, and we wrestled in the water as he tried to reach my nose until a swim lesson began.
He led me through a series of leg kicks while he held on to my waist. I knew how to swim more than I let on. We had mandatory lessons years ago. I just didn’t want him to let go.
When he did, I grabbed him and rested my head on his chest, enjoying the last moments before I complicated our easy relationship. It grew quiet enough to hear the sounds of the night—trees and wind and bugs. Because he was perfect and could sense what I needed, he lifted me up on his back. I lay there as he swam. We didn’t speak, just enjoyed the peace, the calm before a storm he wouldn’t see coming.
It eventually became too cold for the pool or Nathan to warm me. He wrapped me up in my towel and carried me inside. He put me down in front of my door. “Is this goodnight, birthday girl?” he asked.
“No, I want to hang out … and talk.”
He didn’t seem to notice the dread in my tone. He kissed me and ran to his room to take a shower. I left the door unlocked so he could come in if he finished before me.
Mere minutes could be all the time I had left with him. And I’d be alone again. Lonely. Worst case, he’d feel obligated to turn me in. No, worst case, he’d shift and try to handle the abomination on his own. I’d have to be quick, explain, show him the diary. Pray.
And I hadn’t allowed myself to freak out about Remi. My hands rattled in the shower. She could turn me in, report that she’d seen me, and I’d gone psycho hunter on her with a knife.
Who was I kidding? I couldn’t act all tough with her. She had the upper hand. Everyone else in this house would keep my secret because they’d been asked to. Not Remi. She obviously had other plans. Good thing I was a milliona
ire. I’d pay her for Sophia’s sake and everyone else who could be home when the hunters came to collect me.
“How much would shut her up?” I whispered as the water beat down on me. I heard nothing. “What can I do about Remi?” Her name echoed in my head, again and again, getting louder, drowning out the water, bringing whispers and buzzing into the shower with me. Then I heard her.
She was thinking of so much. The drink she ordered. Potato skins. How much she hated me already.
I let the noise pull me closer, and I could see the bar. It made me dizzy. I lost my footing in the shower and grabbed the towel rack for balance.
My plan is shot to hell, she thought. She sipped out of a beer as Emma and Paul danced near her. The image was blurry, watery, but I could see her drumming her long nails against the table. I can’t believe I failed. I just want to go home now. Without the pictures, he won’t believe they’re not human. I couldn’t even get in her room. That’s probably where Sparky hid them. It will take too long to get new pictures on my phone. Giving these idiots to him was the best way to thank him for making me human. I have nothing now.
Human? That was why I could hear her. She’d done the purging thing and wanted to turn us over to hunters. That was why she wanted to make me upset. She wanted me to do magic in front of her. She needed a picture of that.
I wanted to know more, but her thoughts turned to faint whispers in my ear, and the blurry bar distorted even more. I strained to hold on. I shook all over—my hands, legs, all of me. My head hurt like crazy, like it was ripping apart. I strained harder as her thoughts muted more and my vision rattled with the rest of me.
I bit down on my tongue from the shaking, almost seizing, and had to let the final traces of her thoughts float away. I kneeled down so I wouldn’t fall. Pink water swirled around the drain. My nose poured blood. My mouth did, too, so much that it coated my chin and neck.
I curled up in a ball on the floor of the shower, breathing deeply, trying to regain control of my muscles.
My shower song came to me then. I hummed it at first, then sang, as the shaking subsided and my tongue stopped throbbing. I used my hand as a cup to bring water to my mouth. I swished to clear the taste of blood. My nose stopped, too, and I sat on the floor of the shower, scared and stunned, until I realized I couldn’t stay in here all night.
I nearly fell twice as I dried off and slipped into my pajamas. I tried to pull it together when I heard the TV from my room.
I made the mistake of sitting on the bed and couldn’t get back up. “Nate,” I whispered, so he wouldn’t think I was ignoring him in here. He heard me over the TV and came into the room.
“You okay?” he asked. I nodded with my heavy head. “You don’t look okay.” He sat next to me and pulled me to his lap. I wanted to believe that I’d just gotten really worked up about hearing thoughts and I did not just make myself have a seizure or some bloody, psychic fit. But I knew that wasn’t true. “You also don’t sound okay,” he said.
“What do you hear?”
“Your heart is a little off. But I can’t really go by that. Your heart is always doing funny things around me.” He flashed his sneaky smile again. I was too tired to roll my eyes, so I closed them. “And your breath smells weird.”
“Ouch.”
He laughed. “It doesn’t stink. It smells metallic. So either you’re a vampire or something’s wrong in there. Let me see.” I tightened my lips and he tried to pry them open. “Come on. Open up. It’s my job to take care of you. I need to see,” he crooned.
“It’s not your job!” I snapped. My eyelids weighed a ton, but I forced them open. He snatched his fingers from my lips and looked away. I sighed. “I mean … you don’t have to take care of me. You’re not obligated to.” He looked like he didn’t really know what to say to that. And he shouldn’t. I’d just gone off like a psycho. Like a copy. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to be a burden on you. I don’t want to be this thing you have to take care of and protect.”
He pecked my cheek. “Okay,” he said, like it was solved and done with. “I’m sorry.”
“No, babe. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I groaned and sat up in his arms. I almost fell back, still dizzy. Holding on to his shoulders, I poked out my tongue, like I should’ve done without freaking out on him. “I bit my tongue in the shower,” I slurred.
He rubbed the sore spot with his finger. “Yikes. It’s pretty deep. Does it hurt?” I nodded and retracted my tongue. “I know you just said that you don’t need to be taken care of, but you do realize I can fix that, right?” I chuckled and stuck my tongue out again. “My mostly useless magic takes some concentration, so don’t kiss me.”
He slid his tongue over mine, and I moved in to kiss him. He pulled away and shook his head. I held still as his magic, that wasn’t useless to me, did its work on my self-imposed seizure wound.
“Nate. We need to talk,” I said.
“Do you realize that you’re talking in your incredibly cute, sleepy voice?”
“I know. My shower was … eventful. That’s what we need to talk about.”
He chuckled and growled. “I don’t need to think about you in the shower any more than I already do.” I managed a sluggish giggle. “You’re going to be singing in my dreams now.”
“Why?” I asked, losing the battle with my eyes.
“You sing very well. Was that a lullaby I heard?” he whispered, his beautiful voice echoing in my head like a dream.
“Oh. Yeah. I sing that all the time. I made it up.”
“I’m not one to judge, given my sock friends, but you made up your own lullaby?”
I shrugged my shoulders. At least, I’d meant to shrug my shoulders. I had made the song up, hadn’t I? I didn’t remember doing it, but I’d always known it wasn’t something I remembered from the nuns. They didn’t sing to me. I was Leah to them, the crier, a nuisance. My throat tightened thinking of Catherine and Raymond. I knew in that same moment, without a hint of doubt, that the song had come from one or both of them. How would I remember that?
The answer came to me, draining me even more. I could remember it because I wasn’t normal and I hadn’t been normal then.
That reminded me of what I needed to tell him—I was psychic and what we had was built on a lie that could dissolve at any moment. It could be because of Remi. She could come up with another plan. Or Lydia Shaw could knock on the door, led here by her psychic powers. Then he’d be hurt … and I’d…
I really didn’t want to say die or admit to myself what I thought would happen to me without him. What I’d seen in my dream.
“Baby … my parents. I think they sang to me. That’s good news because I …”
“Shhh,” he said and laughed. “You’re totally drooling on me, Chris.” I felt the covers pull over my shoulders and his lips press against mine. “Goodnight, baby.”
“No,” I said. “Don’t … go.”
“You wouldn’t mind me in your bed with you?” Was he in the sitting room now? He sounded so far away.
“No. Come back.”
The bed heated up in a moment. “I’m right here.” He pulled me closer and I gave in, slipping into the warmest sleep of my life.
Soft snores tickled my ear, and I opened my eyes. The lights and the TV were still on in the sitting room. Nate’s hand was tucked under my rib.
Crap. I’d failed again. Didn’t tell him … again.
I turned around carefully, trying not to disturb him. He was even more beautiful asleep.
The fire I’d feared for years seemed to swirl around my heart now. I smiled at my sleeping boyfriend, and a tear fell from my eye. For some reason, some deep and nameless reason, this felt familiar. Lying with someone in bed, love in my heart, love all around me. It made me want to sing. So I did. Softly, I whispered my shower song. It felt like it belonged here. In a bed, with your heart sleeping right beside you.
As I told him to dream his little angel dreams, another verse leapt t
o my tongue.
My heart is yours.
My life is, too.
No one will hurt you.
This is true.
Sleep in peace as angels sing.
My love. My everything.
I knew in an instant I hadn’t made that part up either. I shivered, wanting to scream at CC, yell at her for killing herself, yell at her for leaving me alone. Nate’s arms tightened around me, and my eyes flew open.
His were filled with tears.
“You love me?” he asked in a weak whisper. I opened my mouth but nothing came out. I was still shaking from the song I’d remembered and trembling more now because he’d heard me. “No one has ever loved me.”
He sounded nothing like my Nate, not upbeat or goofy. He sounded incredibly wounded.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He closed his eyes tightly, like he was refusing to cry.
“I love you more. I have loved you for days. I will love you forever.”
Love.
Nate loved me.
And if he loved me, I had a better chance of keeping him now. He could tell me anything about himself, ask my forgiveness, and he’d have it. No question.
I kissed him hard, saying thank you, saying I love you even more than I did before.
He pulled away after a minute, but I followed him. I rolled myself on top of him and tangled my fingers in his hair.
He rolled us back to my side without moving his lips from mine. His hands slipped under my shirt, warm on my back. I wrapped my legs around his waist. That seemed to set a fire between us that changed … everything. The innocence we had in the pool faded. Our kisses were longer, deeper, infinitely hotter. His lips moved to my neck, and I tightened my legs around him.
I slipped my hands under his shirt and trailed my fingers up his scars, raising the back of his shirt to his shoulders. He shrugged it off the rest of the way.
This position seemed to have one inevitable ending that we were speeding towards way too soon. The nuns had called this one-thing-leading-to-another dilemma The Slippery Slope.
I thought back. They’d given specific instructions on how to stop plummeting down the devil’s pathway. Step one. What was step one? Nate bit my lip a little. Damn. Why did I want to remember step one? He moved his hands slowly down my back, and I shuddered.
Oh, right. I wanted to get off of the slope because I’d only met him two seconds ago, and I was lying to him about everything. I was really human, and if how close we’d been before wasn’t illegal, this would certainly be enough for Lydia Shaw to remove his beautiful head, maybe mine, too.
Then I remembered that step one started with a V, like Virginity. Vertical. Step one of getting off of the slippery slope was move you and your lustful partner-in-sin to a vertical position. I lifted up and we slowed. Nate rolled away to the other side of the bed.
What do you know? The nuns knew something after all. They knew how not to have sex.
Step two. I remembered there being giggles in the assembly at this point. Step two was breathe and place a barrier between you and your lustful partner-in-sin. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it against my chest.
He pulled his shirt over his head, inside out. “Sorry, babe,” he said. “I lost it.”
“It was me. With the legs. I’m sorry.” The look he shot me said, don’t ever be sorry for doing that. I smiled. “I think we should um … talk about it,” I said, moving on to step three—openly communicate with your lustful partner-in-sin about boundaries. My boundaries would be a lot more flexible than the nuns imagined, but we should at least talk about them. Then we’d have a plan … if he didn’t break up with me after I finally told him the truth.
“Right. Okay. So the leg thing, that was great, but it sort of made me lose my mind. Did I upset you?” I shook my head. “Would you tell me if I did?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t just you, Nate. I lost it, too. So how long do you think we should … uh …”
“Wait?” he asked. I nodded. “Who do you want to answer that question? Your boyfriend or your best friend?”
“Both.”
He propped himself up on his elbow. “Well, your best friend thinks it should happen sometime in the distant future when it’s right and you trust your boyfriend that much. And it should be planned out so you two can be careful.”
“And my boyfriend?”
He pulled me closer, pressing his nose against my neck. “He’d say now was a good time, and he hates your friend for putting that stupid distant future idea in your head.” We laughed, and he kissed me softly. “But he loves you, so, so, so, so much, and wouldn’t want you to do anything too soon. And he feels like dirt for mauling you just now.”
“You did not maul me, Nate.” He propped himself up again. He closed his eyes and half smiled, half winced.
“You must not feel that I totally unhooked you back there.” I felt my back and the hanging straps under my shirt and gasped.
“When did you do that?” He half-chuckled, half-groaned and shrugged. “That is in a way, impressive, and in many ways, very creepy and concerning.”
“I told you, I lost it.” I re-hooked my bra, laughing at how embarrassed he looked. “I can’t believe I did that. I should go.”
I pouted. “Please stay. I promise not to attack you again.”
His kiss seemed to mean, attack me any time you like.
I wanted to laugh at how the nuns’ step thing worked. We were fine when we curled up under the covers, all traces of smoldering heat gone.
“Tell me this is real,” he said. “Tell me you can fall in love with someone this fast. Tell me I won’t wake up from this and be living on the streets, hungry and dreaming about someone like you.”
I should’ve said it then, the truth, but this was real. Despite the lies. And to have him get up and leave in this moment would be death, more pain than Sienna or Satan could ever cause. “I want to be yours forever,” I said, the truest words ever spoken.
“Works for me,” he whispered, as he bundled my feet in his.
I fell asleep in his arms as my powers told me to dread tomorrow. I could almost hear the thunder from the storm that was soon to hit.
I reached for him when I woke up, but he was gone. Sophia was humming a sweet melody in the bathroom. He must’ve crept out of bed before she came.
I turned over, face down into the oversized pillow he’d been on. I held it like it was Nathan. Tears pushed at my eyes, thinking about what I had to tell him today and that I may have to deal with the Remi situation on my own after he broke up with me.
“You went swimming?” Sophia asked when I forced myself to get up and drop the Nathan scented pillow.
“Yep,” I said. She looked like she was expecting me to say more than that. “It was fun. That’s what you wanted, right? Me to have fun?”
I went into the closet and shut the door to get dressed. “I didn’t imagine that fun would include a bikini. Where’d you get it?”
“Emma made it,” I said.
“I’ll have to congratulate her. This is good work. She’s been practicing. Believe it or not, creating clothing is pretty advanced magic. The seams are perfect. Expensive fabric. Since there aren’t any tags, I’ll assume I should hand wash it.”
I cocked my head to the side. I hadn’t thought about it having a tag. I guessed that made sense. Tags were from designers and manufacturers. Witches wouldn’t need to make them. I looked inside of the purple shirt I was about to pull over my head. It had a tag. I searched through all of my clothes then. They all had them.
“Emma loves to swim,” she said. “She’s always talking about the beach or something.” Sophia laughed, her sweet, trusting laugh, and I pulled on the shirt. My clothes having tags wouldn’t make her a liar, and God knows I didn’t need another problem to deal with today. “She told me you two were becoming good friends.”
“Yeah. She’s great.” She went on about Emma, and I tuned her out and opened the little door i
n my closet. I pulled out Catherine’s diary and checked the pages I’d marked.
“Did you hear me, love?” Sophia asked, right outside of my closet. I hid the diary and pushed my jeans to cover the door.
“No.”
Slowly, I walked out. She looked over my shoulder before looking into my eyes.
“I said I had a few errands to run, and I’ll be back later. Maybe later than usual.”
“Bye,” I said. She kissed me on my cheek and left with a snap.
I sat at my desk, watching the door, waiting for him to knock.
“CC,” I said, knowing she’d come if I called her. “Do you think he loves me enough to look past it?” I shivered and opened the laptop.
You’ve let the slightest thing interrupt you. You’re psychic, so you know exactly what will happen, and you’re avoiding it. And that’s wise. He could tell someone your secret. It’s best if you two just break up, if you ask me.
I sighed and closed the laptop. “I’m sorry I said anything. You don’t have to worry about me talking to you anymore.”
She left again, going back to her husband who had yet to acknowledge me, I guessed.
If the daughter I hid with all of my riches asked me for relationship advice, I’d be encouraging. I’d bring up the time it worked out with her father. CC was someone completely different than the girl who wrote in that diary. Maybe Raymond’s death had changed her. I shivered as I wondered if he’d died while she was pregnant and she’d had to wait to kill herself, dreading living with life inside of her.
I rocked back in my chair, startled out of my skin, when Nate knocked and sang my name.
I’d never walked slower than I did to answer the door. He picked me up and showered my face with kisses. It was the happiest I’d ever seen him. Great.
“Last night was the best night of sleep I’ve ever gotten in my life. Almost eighteen years of laying my head down and no night comes close. Maybe because of the song.” He put me down only to wrap his arms around my waist. “Oh! Guess what I dreamed.”
“What?”
“You were running in this blue ball gown and jumped in the pool. Then you climbed out and tried to scramble eggs outside on the concrete. It was so random.”
Our fingers locked together, the most effortless action ever.
“That is random. Why didn’t I just go inside?”
He chuckled. “I don’t know. You just really wanted those eggs, I guess. I expected to see you eating that this morning. Now at least we know I’m not psychic like hunter-scum.”
The silence was so tense that I thought he might figure it out right then.
I stared at our hands. The wounds I hadn’t felt in days stung suddenly.
He threw me over his shoulder before I could say that we needed to talk. CC was right. I was avoiding it, and I had an idea of how he’d take it.
He jumped down to the second floor, making me giggle against my will.
“Is that Chris?” Emma asked. “Nathan, bring her here.” He took me to Emma’s room and sat me down on the bed. For some reason, that made me giddy. I never used to sit on Whitney’s bed. It had always felt like I couldn’t, like we weren’t close enough for that. Nate sat next to me, and Emma cleared her throat. “Out. This is girl talk. No Nathans allowed.”
He chuckled and walked with his hands on his hips, twisting, to the door. “Au revoir. You have exactly five minutes, Emma, and I’ll be back.” He kissed his fingers, in a very French sort of way, mocking her.
She snapped her fingers, and the door slammed in his face. “So … the pool?”
I smiled at my hands. “It was fun.”
“Fun … like?” I groaned. “Come on. Dish.”
“Fun like, being in a pool with your boyfriend … then spending the night with him.” She squealed. “With your clothes on.”
“Booo. Well … it was almost interesting. Next time I’ll make the bikini a little racier.” She sat across from me on her bed, tucking her legs underneath her. “I also had an interesting night,” she said and sighed. “Remi ended our friendship. After everyone in my life—my parents, Sophie, Paul—told me to leave her alone, she comes in my room and says that she hates me and that we’re done.”
She laughed and shook her head. “That’s a good thing. She’s …”
“She’s something,” Emma said. “Really something. I wanted to help her, but you can’t fix that kind of crazy with dancing and margaritas. I mean … the girl actually likes getting captured. It’s like a hobby of hers. I thought it was fun until I got around normal people again.”
She winked at me, but I wasn’t normal.
“Anyway, I don’t expect her to stick around much longer. I just wanted to tell you because she also said some things about you. She told me to watch my back around you. She said you were crazy.”
She fell back on her pillows, like she wasn’t afraid at all, like she didn’t believe Remi. She needed to believe Remi.
“Enough girl talk,” Nate said outside of the door. “I’m hungry.”
“Eat without her,” Emma yelled.
“Not possible. I can’t seem to function without her. She’s my life.”
In unison, Emma and I crooned, “Awww.”
He was smiling like that had been a joke when I opened the door. I still jumped in his arms, kissing him. Enjoying this while I still had it. “I love you,” I whispered, nervous and unsure if he’d say it back again.
“I love you, too.”
I smiled and exhaled loudly. “Let’s get breakfast and talk. We didn’t do much of that last night.”
“I remember that being your fault,” he whispered.
Paul walked up behind Nate, nodding suggestively, and slowly raised his hand for the high-five he hadn’t gotten yet.
“Please, just do it,” I said.
“Yes!” Paul said, when their hands smacked in the air, like he’d won a prize or something.
If I had to choose a moment I didn’t want to end, it would be this one—in my boyfriend’s arms after saying I love you, my friend smiling at us from her room, Nate also connecting with someone after years of being alone like me. But my instincts told me that all good things must come to an end.
And the doorbell reminded me that I was psychic.