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His arms tighten around me.

“They didn’t take everything.”

I close my eyelids as he slowly turns me around in his arms. When I finally force myself to look at him, there’s no disappointment waiting for me.

No disgust.

No fear.

Just Milo.

“They didn’t?” I whisper on a sob.

He shakes his head, his thumb brushing away the tear running down my cheek.

“No, sweetheart. They didn’t.”

Then his mouth finds mine.

The kiss is soft at first. So painfully tender that another tear escapes, slipping between our lips as I fist the front of his jacket.

But then I kiss him harder. And he gives it right back.

Milo backs me against the nearest tree, one hand cradling my face while the other wraps around my waist. I cling to his shoulders as his mouth moves over mine, and little by little, the rage that had possessed me begins to loosen its grip.

The clearing disappears.

The fire.

Delaney.

The Reds.

Years of hatred burning so hot inside me, I almost let it turn me into someone I didn’t recognize.

Milo kisses it all away until there’s nothing left but him.

Nothing but us.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I whisper against his mouth.

He laughs softly against my cheek, the sound turning into a low groan when I press myself against the hard length of him.

“Nothing will keep me from you, Max.” His lips brush mine again. “Not this town. Not them. Not ever again.”

I grab his shirt and pull him closer just enough to look into his eyes.

“Do you promise?”

I know what I’m asking. More importantly, I know what that promise means.

It means whatever is happening between us isn’t just some reunion-week fling. It’s not two lonely people falling into bed together because nostalgia makes it easy to pretend they’re eighteen again. It’s not something we’ll leave behind in Fairhope when real life comes calling.

I’m asking him to promise me there’s an after.

After this week.

After I leave.