Page 167 of Can't Always Get What You Want

“You’re free to go,” she whispers, sniffling. “And also, please get married and also, invite me.”

I laugh, overwhelmed—probably delirious—and definitely still riding the high of hearing him saymy girlfriend.

Luca doesn’t wait.

The second the lock clicks, he pushes the gate open and steps inside like he’s crossing a finish line—like nothing else matters except the girl standing in the middle of a stadium holding cell.

Me.

His eyes are locked on mine, glassy and full of something so raw it steals the breath right from my lungs. Closing the space between us in two long strides before I can even process it, arms coming around my waist, lifting me clean off the ground as if I weigh nothing.

I gasp, hands flying to his shoulders, my feet dangling in the air as he buries his face in my neck. His chest is heaving.

His voice is husky when he says, “God, I missed you,” into the nape of my neck.

My fingers twist into the collar of his wrinkled shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” He pulls back, enough to look me in the eyes. Kisses the top of my nose. “You meant it, didn’t you? Everything you said?”

“I meant all of it,” I whisper. “I love you, Luca.”

He exhales like those words have just stitched his heart back together.

“Say it again.”

I brush my nose against his. “I love you.”

He kisses me—soft at first. The kind of kiss that saysI found you again.And then it deepens, his hand cradling the back of my head, my legs wrapping around his waist without thinking, like my body has already decided it’s done letting him go.

Someone in the cell quietly sobs.

My brother grunts, reminding everyone he’s in the room. Grumpy Gus. “Can we wrap this up before someone proposes and I have to officiate?”

I peek over Luca’s shoulder at him.

Arms crossed, helmet tucked under one arm, scowl in place, I can’t help but laugh at him.

“Go away!”

“Hey,” he counters. “Remember that time you two were hiding this from me and lying every third sentence?”

I laugh again, not even the least bit guilty.

Luca grins against my temple as he says, “We’ve grown.”

“You love it,” I tell my twin, taking Luca’s hand. “You’re going to be the best man at our wedding.”

He points his clipboard at me. “If you evenjokeabout that, I will walk into traffic.”

Harsh words.

And he says I’m the monster?

“See?” I say, nudging Luca. “He’ssoready to walk me down the aisle.”

My brother hands the clipboard to the guard, and turns on his heels, stomping out the door.

As his heavy footsteps echo down the hallway, Luca presses a soft kiss to my cheek and whispers, “Let’s get out of here before he comes back and locksmein.”

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