Page 167 of Addicted to You

The resentment and fucking self-despair from all those months ago on tour is nothing but a distant memory.

My smile is easy as we settle on the couch, Cinnamon in my lap, Ellie tucked under my arm.

“Don’t forget, we leave in two days,” she reminds me again. She’s been reminding me every day for the last week. As if I could forget the trip she sprung on me. I don’t want togo, but it’ll be ok because she’s going, too. She booked us a flight to Florida to visit my parents. I know she isn’t a fan of them herself, but she said we’re extending the branch. Whatever that means.

They’ve stayed in touch slightly more since the tour ended. We hashed a few things out over the breakfast I took them to after the final show, where they admitted they just don’t understand how to relate to me. They said they thoughtIhated them. They assured me they love me and would make more of an effort. They’ve even asked what’s next for the band. I doubt they’ve been listening to our music or watching our videos, but at least they’re trying.

And it’s all because of the girl next to me.

I grab her chin and force her to face me. “I love you, know that?”

She holds up her wrist, showing off the puzzle piece tattoo. “I hope so because there’s no way I’m having this lasered off. That shitwillhurt.”

I kiss her, feeling her smile against my lips.

“Not a chance.”

This shit is permanent.

Me and her? Inevitable.

I worried before because we’re so damn similar it’s scary. I always thought it should be like Penn and Olivia—opposites attract. But Ellie and I were made to fit together.

Meant to find each other in every universe.

And just like some birds and beavers that mate for life, we, too, are stuck together forever.

My neck doesn’t break out in a sweat. There’s no alarm signaling me to run.

She’s fucking mine, and I’ve never felt more free.