Page 145 of How to Score Off Field

And there are flowers.

Lavender roses in a glass vase.

“I didn’t know what your favorite color was, so I just picked purple,” he says from behind me, setting my suitcase near the closet.

I don’t even know what to say.

I turn to face him. “No one has ever gotten me flowers before.”

“There is no way that’s even possible.”

“Way.” I laugh, folding my hands in front of me, not knowing what to do with them. I want to… hug him. Kiss him.

Kiss his face.

So I close the gap and lift onto my tiptoes, pressing my lips to the underside of his jaw, his stubble scratching my mouth.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His voice is low and gravelly, a mix of embarrassment and happiness.

He kisses me like he means it, his lips meeting mine with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

This kiss isn’t like the horny, semi-alcohol-induced kisses we shared that night we had sex at Miranda’s place. This isn’t like the kisses we shared after I found out I was pregnant.

This isn’t a fleeting touch. His hands cradle my face gently, as if I'm something precious, something he's been waiting for since before I arrived here.

I can feel the weight of our emotions in that kiss– it’s heavy, if that makes any sense at all.

Our longing, the passion, the unspoken words hanging between us that I’m sure we’ll share later, tonight, at dinner.

It's as if he's trying to convey everything we feel in this kiss; every thought running through his mind. And at that moment, I understand.

His lips move against mine.

My fingers find their way to his hair—which he’s trimmed, by the way—my heart racing in sync with the rhythm of our breaths. It's a kiss that speaks volumes, that bridges the gap between us, erasing any doubts that I shouldn’t have come to Illinois to see him and work things out.

As the kiss deepens, I feel his heartbeat against my chest, a steady rhythm that matches my own.Or maybe I’m imagining it becauseof our connection and this raw emotion.

When we finally pull away, it’s slowly.

I look into his eyes.

There's a new understanding there, a shared knowledge that goes beyond words. In that kiss, we've said more than we ever could have spoken aloud. And as I stand there, feeling the warmth of his touch still lingering on my lips, I’m excited about…

Everything.

It’s like I went back in time and we’re starting over—if that’s even possible.

Anything is possible, a small voice in the back of my head whispers.

There’s a pounding on the wall, coming from the hall.

A fist.

“Hey, no foolin’ around!” Drake shouts from the hallway with laughter in his voice.

The door flies open, and his eyes scan the room, seemingly disappointed at finding us standing in the middle of it and not on the bed.

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