Page 183 of Dream On, Liar

Instead, I held out my hand. “No.”

A beat passed.

Then I smiled.

“Come on.”

He looked at me, then at the rain, then at my outstretched hand.

I watched the exact moment he gave in.

“Fine.” He stepped outside.

The second he did, I laughed properly.

He looked ridiculous.

His hair darkened almost immediately, rainwater catching on his lashes, his shirt beginning to cling to his skin, and somehow he still looked at me as though I were the one being unreasonable.

“You’re enjoying this,” he said.

“Obviously.” I spun once, letting the rain hit my face, and for the first time in days, I felt completely unguarded.

Then he laughed.

Really laughed.

The sound did something to me that I had no words for.

I reached for him.

He pulled me closer without hesitation, and suddenly we were simply there, standing in the rain on the edge of a house that was slowly becoming something else entirely.

We were laughing and breathing and soaked through, and for a few perfect seconds, nothing existed beyond that moment.

Then I stopped.

I looked at him properly.

Rain darkened his hair. Warmth remained in his eyes despite the cold. There was something steady in the way he held me, as though he had never considered the possibility that I might go anywhere.

My hand lifted before I could think better of it.

My fingers brushed his cheek.

Then I kissed him.

There was no hesitation, no careful consideration, no attempt to decide what it meant.

There was only feeling.

His hands tightened around my waist immediately, as though some part of him had been waiting for me to make the first move without ever admitting it.

The world narrowed.

The rain disappeared.

Everything else did.