Page 125 of The Perfect Love

My day was better because Chelsea came over. Because she encouraged me to let myself be supported. She probably would’ve stayed the night if I hadn’t said I wanted to check in with Hyla and my mom.

I had a quick video chat with Hyla, who still looks exhausted and like she’s not taking care of herself, but I can’t fix that, so I’m trying not to stress about it. After that, I called my mom. I didn’tmention how much I was struggling earlier today, but I told her I was having a hard time. No surprise she was too. That’s why I want to be strong for her. I lost my dad, but she lost the love of her life. They’d been together for over fifteen years when he died, and they were still madly in love. She’s never even considered wanting to date again.

I pick up the picture Chelsea left sitting on my nightstand. The one of my parents, smiling and laughing.

I can’t imagine how painful losing him was for my mom.

But then a thought clangs through me.

I can.

Because if I lost Chelsea…

It hasn’t been fifteen years. Not even a whole year. But it doesn’t matter. What I feel for Chelsea is the same thing reflected in that picture. It’s the way my dad felt about my mom. The way he loved her. And while that’s terrifying, it makes my chest warm and my head feel light.

I’m stupidly in love with Chelsea Winters. I love her more deeply than I knew I could love someone. And I haven’t told her yet. If I lost her today, that would be the biggest regret of my life.

I need her to know how I feel, and I don’t think I can wait another day to do it.

Chelsea

I’m cozy in bed, reading about a brand new set of bat boys. I love discovering a new fantasy series. Maybe I should mention it to Trevor so we can read it together, but I get the feeling this is going to be a binge read for me.

The crisp sound of a knock at my door makes my brow furrow. It’s almost ten o’clock, which makes me wary. But Robbie also locks the downstairs door at sundown, so he would’ve had to let whoever it is in. Which means it’s probably him wanting to talk randomly about something or he finished a great book and is about to throw his copy at me and tell me to read it. Either way, not the worst way to spend my night.

I climb out of bed, wearing leggings and an oversize tee, and walk down the hall to my front door. But when I swing it open, it’s not Robbie, but Trevor.

“Hey, what—”

He grabs me and pulls me into a passionate kiss, kicking the door shut behind him.

His tongue sweeps my mouth possessively, and I melt into him. I’m confused, but I’m not complaining. He’s cradling my face in his big hands, his warm body pressed against mine. This is heaven. I wrap my arms around his back and let him deepen the kiss. I barely move, just melting further into the kiss, twisting my tongue around his and taking all the rough, wild passion he’s giving me and throwing more back at him.

But then, out of nowhere, he pulls back, panting, eyes wild.

“I love you.”

My brows shoot up, my eyes flaring as his words hit.

“I love you. And I think I’ve known for a while, but I’ve been too scared to say it. Scared to let it be real. To admit how much I have to lose if that’s the truth, but it is. There’s no denying it, and I don’t want to. I was looking at the picture of my parents, and it hit me hard because I understand now. I understand how they loved each other, and I realized if I lost you without you ever knowing—”

This time, I leap into his arms, attacking him with kisses. He braces a hand against the couch to steady himself, and the other he wraps around me. We’re both wild and untethered. Two soulsthat have been unleashed and are dancing around each other, twisting together, trying to become one.

I kiss him and kiss him until I can’t stop the words from bubbling out of me.

“I love you too. It’s terrifying how much I love you, but I do, and I need you to know it. Never question it. I’m yours.”

He stares at me for a moment, then kisses me again. Wrapping both hands under my ass, he holds me in place as he carries me down the hall. Damn, those arm muscles do more than just look good.

I drag my lips across his cheek and down his neck. “I need you,” I whisper against his skin.

He sets me down and meets my gaze, his voice thick and raspy. “Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you to touch me. Take care of me.” I run my hands up his chest. “And I want to take care of you.”

We kiss again, then we’re messily stripping off clothes, desperate to feel our bodies touch. Warm skin against warm skin.

Once we’re naked, I climb on top of him.

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