Page 45 of Until We Fall

That tightens every muscle in my body with hope. It makes me stand taller, my thoughts becoming sharper. It makes the evening air feel lighter and my presence more relevant.

I need to talk to him.I need to lay it out there. Tell him how I feel. Tell him about the lease and what I’m thinking.

The door slides open, and he steps onto the patio stones.

I set the water bottle on the patio table. I’ve never been so nervous. Not even jumping off that bridge.

Scared?

Yes.

Because I’ve never been with anyone who’s made me feelhalfwaylike this. Who, just by standing there in the cusp of evening, changes the rhythm of my body.

“D?” he asks, frowning, and I suppose I’m being weirdly silent.

We’re six feet away from each other, the last of the falling sun brushing red across his face. A tendril of hair slips down into his lashes, and he blinks it away. The sky is a deep magenta, and dark shadows linger between the palms and ferns.

And, fuck, thosebutterflies. Fluttering all the way up into my throat.

I step closer to him, my flip-flops pinching my big toes, and his shoulders straighten, his eyes widening faintly like they always do when I step closer to him.

Maybe I change the rhythm of his body too.

I hope I do.I hope that this time in Clua means the same to him as it does to me. I hope… I hope… I hope so many things.

His eyes sweep down me, over my bare chest to my board shorts, down to my pinched toes and then back, that wrinkle appearing between his brows. “It feels like something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” I rub the side of my jaw, a few beads of sweat rising on the back of my neck even though the evening is cooling. “Can I kiss you?”

He smiles, and my breath expels with relief at that smile.

He steps in front of me, tilting up his head to keep his eyes on mine.

I kiss him softly, then I loop my arms around him and pull him against me. I hunch to sink my nose into his neck. I close my eyes, feeling him breathe. Then I pick him up to kiss along his neck, his toes dangling.

I squeeze him tighter, trying not to crush him.

I need to talk to him.

His fingers tighten in my hair as I set him back down.

He sets his palm on my chest. “I’ve been thinking about patterns.”

“Patterns?”

“It probably sounds silly to you.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about yet.”

“But I will after you tell me.”

He nods, his face serious. “When I first started to negotiate the concept that nothing is linear, it was hard for me.”

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