Page 152 of Nothing Like the Movies

“Bloom” by Aidan Bissett started playing in my head.

All of the roads led me to you

I flexed my fingers against his chest, and as if that was his signal or something, everything instantly changed. He made a noise, angled his head, and went deep with the kiss, his hungry mouth ferocious. He pinned my hands against the door beside my head as the attack intensified. I raised my face and gave him all of my mouth, rearing up to welcome the onslaught as he leaned into me, sandwiching my body between the hardness of his and the door at my back.

He lifted his head and looked down at me, his dark eyes flashing with intensity. “Say it again.”

I swallowed as his hands pressed mine into the door. I looked into his eyes and said, “I love you.”

“Again,” he growled, his voice quiet, his eyes dark. He leaned his weight more heavily onto his palms and his body, into me, his throat moving around a swallow as he watched me.

“I love you, Wes Bennett,” I confessed, wondering how I’d ever thought it was possible to deny this. “I can’t remember a time in my life when I didn’t love you.”

His jaw flexed and unflexed, and then he said—so quietly, “God, please let this be real.”

“It’s real,” I said, pressing a kiss to his chin. “And I’m so sorry. For every moment you had to deal with things alone. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Lib,” he said, a streak of red on his cheeks as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. His voice barely above a whisper as he rubbed his nose over my cheek. “For every tear you cried because of me.”

I blinked fast and breathed in the closeness of him, trying not to cryanymore tears. “It wasn’t you, I don’t think, or me. I think it was justlifethat made us cry.”

“Dammit,”he said through gritted teeth, closing his eyes and releasing my hands.

“What?” I asked, my eyes searching his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I just,” he bit out, giving his head a shake. “Need a second.”

And just like that, it hit me. My eyes traveled over him, and I saw the sweat on his forehead, the way every muscle in his face was clenched, and the way his left hand was gripping his chest.

“Wes!” I put my hands on his cheeks. “Oh my gosh—are you in pain?”

“You have no idea, Lib,” he said on an exhale, his words a near-groan. “Just give me, like, two minutes and I’ll be ready—”

“Two minutes?”Was he serious? “You need to rest—are you kidding?”

“No,”he whined, biting out the syllable like it was physically painful to speak. “This is our moment, dammit.”

I wanted to laugh, but I forced it down to a smile as I took his arm and carefully led him toward the bed while his breath hissed through his teeth and he pressed both hands against his ribs. I said, “I don’t wantour momentto be one where you’re whimpering in pain, Bennett.”

“I’m not whimpering,” he whimpered.

“Did it hurt this much when you were in bed?” I asked.

“No,” he said tightly, like he was trying not to breathe. “It’s better when I lay flat.”

“But you’ve stayed on your feet this entire time to kiss me.” How could I ever love anyone but this stupid, selfless, amazing boy? I pointed and said, “Get in bed.”

“I don’t want to,” he said, taking one hand off his injury to tug on my hair before immediately bringing it back to hold over his ribs. “I’m scared if I stop touching you, you’ll disappear.”

“I won’t,” I said, pulling back the curtain and moving the blanket out of the way. “Ican’t. Because you’re the only one who knows our secret language, remember?”

“How could I forget?” he said quietly, looking down at me in a way that made me want to cry again.

So I said, “Well, I mean, you forgot that song was fromFolklore, so…”

“So you’re really gonna give me shit when I just almost died?” he said around a laugh, which made him grunt “sonofabitch” before getting back on the bed.

“I don’t think you almost died,” I said under my breath, ecstatic to beusagain. I reached down to touch his hair as I fell into a lovesick smile. “Now lie down.”

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