Page 160 of Before We Break

Lexi and Hayden are assembling a new table for the foyer, Jaxon’s in the kitchen laying down new checkered tile while Callie tells him which ones are crooked, and Jonah’s slapping the first coat of paint on the living room walls. The place is really starting to come together the way I envisioned it, but my energy is waning.

Not a minute too soon, Quinn arrives with our coffee order, still wearing her work uniform. She stops in the living room that’s half painted a light coral pink.

Jonah glances at us and smirks. “Careful. She might spill them on you.”

“Funny.” Quinn hands me the iced matcha with my name on it. “What are you doing here? Do you have something against shirts?”

“It’s my brother’s house.” Jonah sets down the paint roller and wipes his brow with the back of his hand. “And only when pretty girls spill coffee on me.”

My eyes ping-pong between the two, and my thoughts spiral with a myriad of questions.

She picks up the coffee cup with his name on it and hands it to him. “You’re Jonah? Huh. I just assumed you were identical.”

He brings it to his lips and takes a long sip. “Nope. I’m the younger, better-looking twin.”

“Only by three minutes,” Noah says, grabbing his cup from the tray.

Quinn looks Jonah up and down and shrugs.

He mimes stabbing himself in the heart. “Ouch. That hurts, Tink.”

“Tink?” I ask.

“It’s a long story,” Quinn says.

Noah slumps onto the couch, jostling me out of my stupor. I’m exhausted. We spent the whole day painting and moving furniture around, and this is the first chance I’ve had to sit down and take it all in.

I glance over at him, blinking several times to make sure I’m not hallucinating. His shorts have ridden up, giving me a glimpse of his muscular thighs. Only, where I expect to see his faded Yeats tattoo, there’s something else peeking out beneath the fabric. “You got rid of your poem?”

He notices where I’m looking and his cheeks flush. “Yeah. It was time.”

I pull up the hem as far as it’ll go, revealing a gorgeous Grecian figure holding a scroll. “Clio,” I whisper.

Not me, but the Greek muse I’m named after.

Except.

I look closer and realize she looks a lot like me. Her face is in profile, but it’s uncanny.

“Why?” is all I can manage to say.

He palms my cheek and smiles at me tenderly. “Because that quote no longer held any meaning for me. I already gave my whole heart to you, and I would do it all over again even if it meant losing you.”

I climb onto his lap and plant my mouth on his, not caring that I’m a sweaty mess. He doesn’t seem to mind either as he takes control, tilting my head exactly where he wants it. His tongue glides into my mouth, tasting and teasing. We take our time, knowing there’s no expiration date looming, nothing standing between us at all.

My heart is full to bursting when I finally break away from the kiss.

“I love you, Noah Weston.”

“I love you, too, princess.”

NOAH

I step inside, drop my keys into the designated bowl on the entry table, and kick off my shoes, lining them up beside the rest.

We moved in a month ago, and things are finally starting to settle.

I trail farther into the house, stopping in the kitchen doorway to take in my new favorite view. Clio’s standing at the sink, elbow-deep in sudsy water, washing a set of paintbrushes while the kids play in the backyard. There’s a row of pumpkins lined up on the kitchen island with two sets of handprints, and a smaller one with a set of paw prints. Clio must’ve been doing arts and crafts with the kids after school again.