Page 156 of And Now, Back to You

Her face softens. “You like my trouble,” she whispers.

She says it like a secret, like a confession, and I hear all the words that fill the space in between. How long are you going to want my trouble?

Delilah has been the brave one, the strong one, the resilient one this entire time. Maybe now it’s my turn.

“Yeah,” I say. “I do.” I make sure she’s looking at me when I say, “I will. Always.”

She shifts closer, resting her chin in the middle of my chest. One tear glances down her cheek, and then another. “Always,” she whispers back.

I let go of her hands so I can cup her face instead, wanting so badly to feel the shape of her beneath my palms. My thumbs rub at those damned tears. “This morning, when I was getting in the turtle suit, I was thinking about that thing you always say,” I tell her. “At the end of every broadcast. And now, back to you.”

“I know it’s silly, but—”

I shake my head. “It’s not silly. It’s yours.” I have to swallow around the heavy press of it. The realization that this is true. This is right. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

“But I was thinking about it and thinking about all those run-ins we’ve had with each other over the years. The pudding incident. The car parking. That time you broke off my rearview mirror with a hockey stick.”

“Did I?”

I nod, tucking some of her hair behind her ears. “You did. It’s almost like—it’s almost like the universe kept bringing me back to you. Or, I don’t know, throwing you directly in my path. And now,” I say with a grin, “back to you. Every mishap, every accident, every—” I laugh. “Every hallway collision and spilled coffee. It’s always been me coming right back to you. You’re the end of every sentence, Delilah. I’ve just been too stubborn to see it.”

Her lower lip trembles before she catches it with her teeth. “You said you don’t believe in fate.”

“But I believe in you,” I rasp. “God, Delilah. Do I believe in you.”

Her face crumples and her nose scrunches, the cutest little divot between her eyebrows.

“Don’t cry,” I laugh.

“Then don’t say things like that to me.” She sniffles, composing herself with a shuddering inhale. “Does that mean you could love me?” she asks. “Someday? Because the way I feel about you, Jackson, I—”

I cut her off with my mouth against hers. I angle her chin up with a press of my thumb and I’m—I’m too rough, a little desperate, but it feels like my whole body is humming.

I pull back and Delilah sways after me. Our noses brush and I dip down to drag another kiss against her mouth. Two, just because I can.

“Yeah,” I whisper and she sighs out something sweet. “I can love you in the mountains and I can love you back home. Watch and see how good I’m going to be at it.”

She laughs, then peppers kisses all over my face. My cheeks, my chin, the tip of my nose and the bridge of my glasses.

“And now?” she asks, holding on to me tight.

“Back to you,” I reply, curling my arms around her. I pull her closer until I can feel her heart tucked to mine. “Always right back to you.”

AIDEN VALENTINE: So how did you two meet?

JACKSON CLARK: You know how we met.

AIDEN VALENTINE: For the sake of the show you are currently on, Jackson. How did you meet?

JACKSON CLARK: But the listeners know we met through that weather report.

JACKSON CLARK: We are both meteorologists.

AIDEN VALENTINE: But you’re not here as a meteorologist.

AIDEN VALENTINE: You are here as a person who is dating another person.

AIDEN VALENTINE: On the romance hotline.