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You’re all kinds of trouble yourself, Connor Morgan.
And I’m so happy I found you.
EPILOGUE
DANA
The Night Before Their Graduation Day
I bolt up the stairs two at a time, my excitement overtaking the need to breathe. I’m sure I’ll regret that when I reach our apartment on the third floor, but right now I don’t care.
I got a job!
I’m graduating tomorrow and I got a job!
I have to tell Connor.
At the landing, my lungs tingle for air. I take a deep breath, but I don’t stop, forcing one foot in front of the other until I reach our apartment.
The door is unlocked. Connor’s home.
“Connor!” I step in, shucking my jacket off and tossing it onto the hook by the door. “You here?”
No answer. No lights.
I scan the dark living room and kitchen, my brain sparking with memories of us. It’s hard to believe this place used to be Courtney’s. Now it’s ours. It started as a study haven four years ago. And, let’s be honest, a place for Connor and I to sneak away and fuck, but it’s become so much more since then. After two years of living on Greek Row, we took our relationship to the next level and moved in together. Around the same time, Courtney officially moved to New York, and offered to let us take over the lease.
“Connor?” I ask with a wheeze.
Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have sprinted up those stairs.
I slide a chair out from the kitchen table and plop down to focus on catching my breath.
Something catches my eye. A brightly colored wrapper on the hardwood floor near my foot.
A peanut butter cup?
As I bend to pick it up, I spot another one across the floor. And another one. And another one.
A trail of peanut butter cups leads to our closed bedroom door.
I wheeze again, this one louder. That’s weird.
The bedroom door opens and Connor rushes out, clad in a dark blue suit and tie. “Dana?” he asks, his face hard with concern. “Are you okay?”
I take another aching breath. “I got a job!”
“Dana, breathe.”
I stand up too fast and slap a hand on the table to steady myself. “I got a job!” I say again.
He’s on me quickly, both hands coming to grab my shoulders. “Slow down and breathe, honey. Do you need your inhaler?”
“Fuck my inhaler! I got a job!”
He turns. “I’ll go get it?—”
I yank him back to me. “Connor.” I grin, so fucking happy. “I got a job!”
