Page 158 of A Million To Fall

I slide my hand against his cheek. “I meant what I said, Boss,” I say, my eyes pinned to his—dark in the dim light of the room. “I love you.”

A shaky breath leaves him.

“I know things aren’t figured out,” I whisper. “I know this won’t be easy.”

I tip my head up until my lips are just an inch from his.

“But I think…” I smile through the lingering ache in my chest. “I think this is the first time in my life I’ve actually been excited about my future.”

He blinks, his expression a mix of hope and something that looks a little like fear. But then he leans toward me and kisses me. Soft and unhurried. Making this moment right here count.

Eventually, reality tugs at us. Work in the morning. My parents. Expectations.

The world outside Boston’s apartment.

We get dressed at the slowest pace imaginable—interrupted at regular intervals by one of us stealing a kiss from the other—before Boston walks me out to my car, the summer air cool against my overheated skin.

Neither of us seems to know how to say goodbye anymore. Even see you later seems outside the realm of doable now. All I want to do is get back inside his apartment and stay.

He leans down to the driver’s side window, hands braced against the roof.

“Text me to let me know you made it home safe?”

I smooth my hand over his scruffy cheek and nod. “Yeah.”

He nods. Then swallows, his gaze dropping away for the briefest moment before it settles back on mine, suddenly uncertain.

“You should probably know something,” he says.

My insides squeeze uncomfortably at his tone, and for a half second, my mind races through the possibilities.

Something that happened at court today?

His mom or siblings?

Something terrible. Something he should’ve told me sooner.

“Yeah?” I ask him carefully.

Boston rubs the back of his neck, looking decidedly uneasy. Then his lips curve into the smallest smile.

“I love you, Skye,” he says like he’s testing the shape of it, like he’s surprised he’s even allowed to say it out loud.

My heart feels too big for my chest, my whole body suddenly urging me to crawl right out of that window and back into his arms.

“Good,” I whisper through a watery laugh. “Because it would’ve been really awkward if you didn’t.”

“Just a little,” Boston says, grinning.

As I pull out of the parking lot, I glance once in the rearview mirror.

Boston is still standing there.

Watching until my taillights disappear.

Somewhere between his apartment and home, I realize my cheeks hurt from smiling.

Finally, my future doesn’t feel like something happening to me.