“And if I don’t?” he asks.
“Then you’d be a fool.”
A smile spreads across his face, and then he presses his lips into mine.
I laugh against his mouth. “I win.”
“I’m always rooting for you, Bookworm,” he murmurs before he kisses me again.
46
SADIE
I wake up happy.
That realization hits me before I even open my eyes—and it shouldn’t feel as unfamiliar as it does. I turn my face into the fluffy pillow, smiling as I stretch. I roll over and see that Milo’s bed is empty, but there’s a note on the nightstand next to the large stuffed teddy bear he got me with our tickets last night. Most of those tickets were won by me.
I reach for the paper.
Bookworm,
I went to get breakfast. First, because I’m hungry. Second, because I was fighting with all my strength not to crawl in your bed and kiss that blue butterfly on your shoulder. I don’t think you truly comprehend how pretty you are.
Be back soon.
Hot Shot
I grab the bear, hugging it to my chest, mysmile stretching farther across my face, and I realize I can’t control it—and I don’t want to.
I kick my feet wildly so the blankets slowly uncover my body and then I jump up, ready to embrace this day. I’m not sure what it holds, but I’m excited to find out.
I choose a simple black dress from my suitcase and slip it on, the fabric soft against my skin. When I look in the mirror, without my hair brushed or my makeup on, I notice how I seem to be glowing. I step closer toward my reflection, my heart humming in my chest.
This woman looks like she may not know what the future holds, but she knows something more important—what she doesn’t want anymore.
I don’t want my life in Dusty Hollow. The job. The house. The version of me that learned how to say yes so often she forgot what no felt like.
And knowing that means I can’t stay here forever.
Going home isn’t about fixing things yet. It’s about facing them. About finally admitting that a life built to keep everyone else comfortable still comes with a cost—even if no one ever meant for it to.
But not today.
Today, I’m allowed to be happy.
Besides, there’s something else I need to mark off the list . . .
And apparently, it involves a stranger and my lips.
47
MILO
The inkedcompass draws my attention as I walk the familiar sidewalks of Hoboken. This city is where I held my teaching job after my injury—after I finally began pulling myself out of the hole I’d dug for myself.
I don’t know if Sadie noticed, but the compass doesn’t point north. It points to the S. Toward her.
I open the door to a small café that serves the best breakfast burritos.
