Page 83 of Rosie and the Beast Next Door

He lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling with a small smile. After a moment of hesitation, I did as well.

“Look.” He pointed at the glow-in-the-dark stars affixed to the ceiling. “Lily arranged them in actual constellations.”

I spotted Ursa Major and Minor, and a few other familiar constellations I didn’t know the names of. I was begrudgingly impressed. “I didn’t know Lily loved astronomy.”

“Me neither.”

I breathed in the scent of him. Soap that I didn’t recognize. It wasn’t my soap from the shower anymore. But there was something underlying it all that was fundamentally Dylan. Something that made me wish I could bury my nose in his chest and breathe him in.

I linked my pinkie with his. “I’m glad you’re here. Here in Winterhaven, and here with me in your parents’ house. I think they’ve changed. And so have you.” I hesitated, not wanting to misstep, but also needing to say this. “I know they love you, Dylan. Maybe you can give them a chance to prove it.”

He turned to look at me. “There’s a lot of water under that bridge.” He brushed some hair from my face. “But I’ll think about it.”

Time seemed to stand still as his hand came to rest on my cheek, and his thumb drew a line on the soft skin under my eye where a tear had fallen. I wanted for him to feel the love I knew his parents and this town had for him. I wanted him to believe he deserved it. I wanted him to stay here, in Winterhaven, to not leave and never come back.

“Rosie, I’m not worth crying over.”

“You are to me.”

He pressed his forehead to mine, and we stayed in that suspended moment in time until we heard the kitchen chairs slide against the tile downstairs.

“How long do you think we can hide out in here before someone comes looking for us?” Dylan whispered. His eyes searched mine. Our faces were inches from each other.

“I don’t know.” I sniffled. “Should we test it?”

Dylan smiled softly. “This is what I love about you.”

“What?” I asked, trying to ignore that he used the word love.

“That you’re a ‘yes, and’ kind of person. You don’t shoot down ideas, you build on them.”

That was one of the nicest things anyone had said to me, but I still shook my head. “I’m the sour lemon, Dylan. I take good ideas and make them bitter.”

He shook his head vigorously. “I don’t know where you got that idea, but it’s completely false. You turn everything to gold.”

I bit my lip and stared at the constellations as I tried to see myself the way he described. Someone who made things better and not worse. I tried, but it seemed like my plans always failed one way or another. The silence between us was comfortable, and I could hear the soft murmur of Sheriff and Mrs. Savage conversing downstairs.

“You know,” Dylan whispered. “I’ve never been allowed to be with a girl in the bedroom with the door closed before in this house.” His eyebrows went up and down teasingly.

I laughed, and his eyes lit up. Had that been his goal—to make me laugh? When had it become a goal of Dylan’s to make me happy?

I groaned suddenly, thinking about how I was failing in my efforts to help him withhisgoal. “I haven’t taken any pictures or posted them to your social media today.”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s so unimportant right now.”

“But your team—”

He squeezed my hand gently. “All I want to do right now is be here with you.”

I searched his gaze and found nothing but truth there. My eyes fluttered shut and my mouth was drawn toward his in the same way I sought his warmth last night. I heard his intake of breath and then my lips were lightly brushing against his. A feather-light touch that left me longing for more.

The door flew open and banged against the wall. And as if we were teenagers caught breaking a rule, we flung apart from each other.

“Just seeing if you need anything,” Mrs. Savage said as if nothing had happened.

Dylan cleared his throat. “Nope. We’re good.”

“Wonderful.” She left but poked her head back inside the room a second later, her eyes twinkling. “Let’s leave this door open, okay?”

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