Page 37 of Before I Lost You

“Yeah?” he breathes.

“I can’t tell if you’re fucking with me right now,” I tell him, voice rough. I don’t know what I’ll do if this is all some big joke. “Did you actually make a playlist for us?”

Kenneth nods. “It’s stupid, I know—”

“It’s not stupid,” I interrupt, shaking my head quickly. “Share it with me. I want to listen to it.”

“A-are you making fun of me?” He frowns, and my eyes widen as I shake my head again. “It’s okay if you think it’s dumb.”

I set my sushi on the coffee table and grab his food too, placing it next to mine. Getting closer to him, I cup his jaw gently and tilt his face up to mine. His eyes are this bright electric blue I’ve never seen on him before as he stares at me, and I wonder—is this the color of his eyes when he’s in love? Is he in love with me, too? Am I just making that up in my head right now?

“It’s not dumb, Ken,” I whisper, kissing him softly. The moment our lips connect, Kenneth melts into me and deepens the kiss. I pull away first, and he tries to chase my mouth. I smile at him, rubbing my thumb over his bottom lip. “I love that you made a playlist. It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?” His nose wrinkles. “Is that what I am?”

“The sweetest,” I reply, kissing him again. “Also the cutest.”

“Okay, now you have to stop, or I’ll know you’re lying.” Kenneth chuckles.

“I think I actually believe you,” I tease, smirking, and he narrows his eyes. “You really do write our names in your notebook and doodle little hearts around them.”

“As if!” He laughs.

“You’re gonna write our name in the wet sand at the beach and wait for the waves to wash it away, aren’t you?” I ask him. “Are you gonna take cute pictures of us holding hands, too?”

“You wish.” He grins, but I can tell he’d do just that. “You’re the softie here.”

“Am I?” I ask him with a smirk. “Or are we just the same?”

Kenneth’s eyes soften, and his smile turns wobbly. He doesn’t answer, but his eyes tell me a million things at once. They whisper sacred promises and sweet confessions. They show me his heart, and I can’t fucking look away. He breathes a little faster as we stare at each other, and then he’s pushing me back against the couch and climbing onto my lap. I let my hands travel to his hips, and I hold him gently. I want to grip him tightly instead. I want to never let go.

“It’s you and me, isn’t it, Conrad?” he asks quietly, barely audible over the beating of my heart. It’s pounding in my ears thanks to the way he’s looking at me. As if I hung the sun, the moon, and all the stars in his universe. “Are we real? Is this real?”

“This is the realest thing that’s ever happened to me, baby,” I breathe, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him towards me, pressing his forehead to mine. “Am I real to you?”

“Sometimes it feels like you’re just a dream,” he says against my lips. I pinch my eyes shut at the accuracy. “And sometimes, it feels like I’ll die if you were just something my mind made up.”

There’s a knot in my throat I can barely talk past, but I manage to. “Connie and Kenny,” I whisper. “I love it.”

Ken smirks, “I love us.” I close my eyes again, and when I open them once more, he’s looking right into them. “You’re so beautiful, Conrad. So, so beautiful.”

“Yeah?” My voice cracks. I can’t lie and say I don’t love this side of him. Hearing him say this gives me hope. Makes me feel like it’s not one-sided, after all. Like, maybe we do have a future. “What’s so beautiful about me?”

“Your heart,” he replies without hesitation.

My eyes sting, but I breathe in deeply so I don’t cry. “What else?”

“The way your eyes darken during golden hour,” he continues. “The way your dark hair turns a couple of shades lighter when the sun shines on it. The way your eyes sparkle when you look at me—they only do that withme. Like I’m your favorite person in the world. It makes me feel like—I don’t know. Like, maybe Iamyour favorite person. And then, your smile. Fuck, Conrad, that smile turns me inside out. The first time you ever smiled at me, I swear my heart fucking stopped. I haven’t been the same since.”

I gulp, my breath quickening and my pulse pounding. He’s noticed me. He pays attention to everything about me. I thought, well, I don’t know what I thought. That this was superficial to him. That he didn’t really care enough to see me. But I was wrong. Clearly, I judged him too quickly.

“Say something,” he whispers.

“I—” I shake my head. “Fuck, Kenny, how am I ever supposed to get over you when you say these things?”

“I don’t want you to get over me,” he says fiercely, pressing his forehead against mine a little harder. This moment feels intimate, more intimate than anything I’ve ever experienced before. “I want you to love me.”

I nod but stay quiet, because I can’t tell him I already do. That I always have. That I feel it in my bones that we’ve been together before, maybe in a past life or an alternate universe. That this doesn’t feel like our beginning. This feels like a continuation of our always. Like maybe we’ve come together again and again in different timelines and different circumstances, finding our way back to each other despite everything stacked up against us.