Page 89 of Warmer, Colder

It’s a scary thought, that in the parameters of everyday life might seem too much too soon, but the truth is, I’ve loved her many times over. As children, Ana was my other half. As adults, Stasi has been by my side—albeit, somewhat antagonistically—through a rough transition. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.

“You’re cute when you’re thinking so hard,” Stasi teases and nips at my shoulder, always quick to steal my attention back when it drifts.

“Do you want to know what I was thinking about?” Propping myself up on my elbow, I look down at her, my nightmare who turned into my happily ever after.

She nods as she slips her fingers under my top and traces my tattoo with the tips of her nails. “You know I’m ravenous for every thought that goes through that pretty little head.”

“I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have you.” I concentrate on the route her fingers take, avoiding the weight of her gaze. “Do you ever think about what it would be like if you were stranded here alone?”

“No.” Her nails dig into my hip possessively. “There’s nothing that could keep me from you now that you’re mine.”

“How can you be so sure? Neither of us knows anything about why or how we’re here, or how long we have. What if one of us crosses over first?”

“Crosses over where?” Stasi’s fingers cage my jaw, tilting my head upward until we’re making direct eye contact. “Why are we worrying about fictional scenarios? Are you so eager to sabotage your own happiness?”

“It’s not that. It’s just, Hawthorne got me thinking. What if there’s something else out there and we don’t have a choice but to go?”

“Are you saying like if there’s a heaven, a bright light, and an underworld, or whatever it is that some people believe in?” A playful flame sparks in her eyes. “Then I would tear out the eyes of fate so it couldn’t find you. I would use the Grim Reaper’s scythe against him. I would sell my soul to get back to you.” Her lips press against my forehead. “I don’t care what might await us; the only thing I’ve ever been afraid of is losing you. I will never let anything happen to you, Babygirl. There’s nothing to worry about, not anymore.”

“If you say so,” I sigh.

“I do. Besides, Hawthorne didn’t mention anything like that. He made it seem like this is it for us unless we actively do something to change those circumstances. Maybe he was a scam artist, maybe he’s the real deal, but I’m not going to worry about what-if’s. Not after a lifetime of chasing you. I’m going to enjoy every second we have together from here on out.” Stasi stands and holds her hand out. “What about you, Crybaby?”

Without hesitation, I wrap my palm around hers. “Okay.” She tugs me to her, where she lingers close to the edge.

“That’s not very enthusiastic. I need you all in.” Her thumb passes over my lips in a tender touch that grounds me.

“Yes. I’m all in.”

“That’s better. Are you ready to take the leap with me then?”

Glancing down, I look over the edge of the roof. “Do you mean literally or figuratively?”

Stasi laughs and turns to face the edge. “Don’t you trust me? Everything is going to be okay.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Just like that, I’m twelve years old, tucked into a corner of the neighborhood haunted house, actors dressed as very convincing monsters in the background. Ana holds my hand, convincing me that I’m brave enough to finish the walk-through. Reminding me that she won’t let anyone hurt me. But as we find ourselves on a new terrifying precipice, I realize that I’m not afraid anymore and I do what I was too much of a coward to do all those years ago. Pulling her in for a kiss, I claim her lips and then tug her forward, sending us careening over the side of the house.

We land with a soft thump. Splayed on my back, I wait for the pain to come, muscle memory convincing me that something snapped or bruised. But we’re both fine.Better than fine.

“You were right all along, you know,” I admit.

“And that’s why you should never doubt me.” She sits up. “But I’ll gladly prove myself to you again and again if it means I get to have you like this.”

“Like what?”

“Free…happy.”

She said she couldn’t give me softness, but she’s given me something so much better, her vulnerability. One of the best things about her is that she loves fully and unapologetically, and I want to give her that too.

Crashing my lips into hers, I push her back into the grass. “I love you, Anastasia Eden. Thank you for not giving up on me.” Hovering over Stasi, I hold her gaze. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see that you’re the only person who ever could have loved me the way I needed.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you never had any other choice.” Flipping us so I’m beneath her, she lavishes my throat, my chest, my breasts. “You were always mine.”

“I am.” I wrestle with my flannel, tugging it off and then following it with my tank top. “Your Crybaby, your Dirty Girl. I’m lucky to be anything you want.”

“Anything? That’s a dangerous promise to make. Are you eager to make a deal with the devil, Angel?”

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