Page 212 of We Can't Be Friends

He smolders. “Most certainly not, but you are innately good. You are fierce, loyal, and good, Chloe.”

“Which color? There are—” I run my tongue along my bottom teeth, counting silently in my head. “Too many to count.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t think you could be contained to one color.”

“I’m still wearing black, though.”

“Wouldn’t ever ask you not to dress like Darth Vader.”

I swat at him, but he catches my hands, kissing my knuckles.

“There’s one other thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

“What?” I play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Let’s move in together.” I pull a face. “A place that isn’t shared. Friends don’t need to walk in on us. Tucker needs a yard. . .” Cal keeps listing reasons to try to convince me.

“You want me to be your roommate for life, Pretty Boy?”

Epilogue

CHLOE

Four Years Later

I feel his hand before I hear his voice.

“Dais, you okay?” Cal rolls onto his side, eyes heavy with sleep, facing me.

“Can’t sleep. Nerves.”

Nerves. Butterflies. Anticipation. Today—maybe, I don’t know what time it is—is the first day of skating lessons for The Power Play Foundation.

When I told Miller about my idea to open my own skating school, he upped the ante. He shared his dream of starting a foundation. He’s wanted to provide kids with lower income the opportunity to have gear and a place to play. Additionally, start a scholarship for school.

Crafting the business plan and getting the documentation that we needed took us about a year. Then we started small, gradually growing and expanding to today.

Midway through, the board at my job was interested in taking us on. Financially supporting our foundation and giving us a place to operate out of.

“Nothing to be nervous about. It’s going to be amazing.”

“Yeah?” I ask, weirdly needing extra reassurance from him.

“You’ve worked tremendously on this, Dais.”

A labor of love is what this has been. And healing. Getting to do this with Miller has been my favorite part. Our relationship is the best it has ever been.

I lean my head forward, kissing my husband. “Adler was able to secure a few more volunteers and some of Miller’s teammates are coming to help. We were able to take on every kid from the waitlist.”

“What does that take the total count to? Three hundred?” he guesses.

“Mhmm.”

“Then why are you nervous? That’s what you wanted.”

“I don’t know. Just am.”

“Well—” He scoots closer. “I think I know how to calm a few of those nerves.” My favorite eyes in the world sparkle with desire, heating my insides.

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