Page 133 of Promise Me Sunshine

I turn in the circle of his arms and pull my hood back.The wind kicks up and tosses my chin-length hairdo into the sky as far as it’ll go. I’m laughing, messy, framed by monumental change.

Miles grips the railing and leans back to see me better. He is inshock.

“Len!” he gasps. And then he unhands the railing to press me into it, put two hands on my face, and just look. “Lenny.”

My name is the only thing he can call this moment.

“I donated it,” I say, happily sobbing because life is so fucking hard and sometimes, every once in a while, you get a win.

His eyes are as glossy and dark as the water underneath the ferry. I’m reflected back to myself as Miles sees me, wonderfully human, trying my absolute hardest, dubious haircut and an honest attempt at living.

“You look so cute,” he says, and his face scrunches down in the kind of pain that feels good. He drops his forehead to my shoulder for a long moment. When he surfaces, his lips land on my cheeks, my nose, my forehead and chin. “I always thought I’d kiss you and your long hair would be everywhere,” he says, and my heart soars. “I guess I waited too long.”

“Not too long,” I say. “The right amount.”

“I guess this means I’ll have to stick around for a really long time to live out that fantasy, huh? How many years until you can grow it out again?”

“Only five years,” I scowl, and he throws his head back andlaughs,not because this is funny, but because he’s overflowing with the kind of elation that comes with someone you love doing something so, so right.

“Well, there’s no way only five years will be enough time for us,” he decides.

I’ve got him by the strings of his hoodie. I tug him gently toward me. “Not a chance.”

He lands in a hug against me. His hands find their way to my hair and don’t stop touching the ends. It’s a blunt cut. It’s never been more clear where I end and the world begins. For the first time in a very long time I don’t feel in danger of fading away.

“Miles,” I say, and he pulls up from our hug, bent so that our noses are just an inch apart. “I’m here to stay.”

His eyes warm; I feel a current from his heart and it vibrates all the way out to where his fingertips meet my jawbone. “I’ve always known that,” he says.

I go tiptoes and he leans down. Our lips meet and it’s that lightning storm all over again. I can feel this kiss down to my toes in white-hot streaks that form the general shape of my nervous system. His mouth is smooth and stubble-rough, and the nonsense of a kiss—why do people put their lips together when they’re in love?—has never made more sense. Because him. Because this moment. Because Miles would turn his life inside out just to make me okay. And if he gets to be the man who kisses me, well, what wouldn’t he do? And I’ll never have to know the answer to that.

He bands an arm around my back and the boat lurches and we tip our heads with the inertia. I gasp his warmth. Welcome him into my softest places. Our tongues touch and oh my Godhe’s shy,but not for long. His fingers have found their way clear down to my scalp as he holds me in place, because he knows me, and he knows that he has to pin me down to accept what’s good for me.

I’ve got arms around his neck, only big toes on the ground as I strain upward; he’s bracing us against the railing, tasting me, pulling back to show me his eyes and then leaning forward for further tasting.

The boat rises, slams down on a wave, and we get dappled with bright-dark water. It feels like rice tossed at a wedding.It feels like the world’s blessing. He holds me even tighter. Our tongues slide and I wish I had the strength to pull back from him, just long enough to tell him exactly how I feel.

The boat rises again and this time, when it lands on a wave, we get a proper dousing. It’s a wet slap of water across our faces and jackets.

We don’t stop kissing but we do start laughing. He softens the kiss and it becomes an offering; he walks backward, taking me with him by the mouth, and the third smack of water lands in the spot we’ve just vacated.

“Hell of a night!” a man shouts beside us.

We roll our faces cheek to cheek, thereby ending our first kiss, and bringing this man into view. He’s wearing a wool bowler and a clear poncho.

We say nothing and he doesn’t seem to realize he’s interrupted one of the most important moments of my life.

“Didn’t expect the storm!” He gestures out, distantly, beyond, to a nest of glowing clouds, lit by lightning.

I take Miles by the hoodie strings again, bringing his attention back to me and only me. “Every time I fall in love with you there’s lightning.”

He closes his eyes, opens them and there’s his brilliant love. “There’s only you, Lenny. Every time…it’s just you,” he says, muffled as he kisses me. “And you.” He kisses me again. “And you.”

I cry, of course. I laugh, of course. I hold him desperately close, of course.

We take the ferry all the way there. And then all the way back.

Chapter Thirty-Two

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