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“Rae,” he murmurs.
My eyes flash open as his lips graze mine.
My heart pounds.
His eyes flutter closed for a second, then he drops his head against mine.
When his eyes open again, they meet mine. Neither of us says anything, but our eyes say it all. We sit like that for a moment until he inhales and says, “It’s late. I should go.”
I swallow hard, trying to push down the dryness and the lump that has risen to the back of my throat. I nod and say, “Of course. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He pulls back and his hands drop off me, leaving me longing for his touch. “Definitely. I’ll drive us to school?”
“Yeah. Sounds good. Thanks for being here for me today. And always. I—”
Fuck. I feel like I can’t sayI love youto him anymore. Because I know it means something else.
“I appreciate it,” I squeak out.Smooth.
“Always, Beautiful.”
Heart melting.
He shoves his boots and coat on and slides the window open. “Get some rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”
My gaze lingers on him as he climbs out the window. “Night, Ace.”
Once the window is closed, I slip under my covers, heart racing and squealing internally, wondering what tomorrow might bring.
Chapter ten
You’re My Person
Aaron
“Mm,”ImumbleagainstRae’s lips.
She slides a hand into my hair. “I could do this all day.”
“Here? In the snow?”
She doesn’t answer. She shoves her mouth over mine, forcing her tongue inside.
I look down at her in a gorgeous dress, lying in the snow.
“Aaron!”
I jolt upright and rub my eyes.
My mom sticks her head in my bedroom door. “Wake up, honey. It’s a snow day. I let you sleep late, but you need to get up.”
“Sure, Mom. Thanks.”
“Mhm.” She closes the door behind her as I rub a hand over my face. Another night, another dream about Rae.
Standing up and stretching, I look out the window. Looks like we got a foot of snow, maybe more. It’s right on time. If there’s a weather guarantee in Ida, New York, it’s that it will be seventy and sunny sometime in the first two weeks in March, and in the third week, we’ll get hit with a snowstorm. That’s where we are now. Spring? What’s that? People will be bitching for days, though they should be grateful this one doesn’t touch our record around here—which is close to four feet for a single storm.
Glancing at the time, I see it’s nearly ten-thirty.Fuck, I never sleep that late.
