And in that stillness, as the night wrapped itself around them, she knew that wherever life took her next, no matter how far apart they might be, a part of her would always be here, with him.
She was already home.
And it was him.
35
Forever, Last Night
Thenightbeforeshewas supposed to leave, Savannah couldn’t stop shaking.
It wasn’t from the cold.
It wasn’t from fear.
It was from him.
From the way Chase was looking at her, from the way his hands traced over her skin like he was afraid to forget what she felt like. Like he was afraid to forget her.
The air in the room was thick, heavy, charged with something neither of them could ignore.
A storm waiting to break.
A levee ready to crumble.
Chase sat on the edge of the bed, his bare chest illuminated by the soft golden glow of the bedside lamp. Shadows flickered over the sharp edges of his jaw, the muscles in his shoulders, the way his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths.
His hair was slightly tousled, wild from where he had run his fingers through it too many times—like he was trying to grasp something just out of reach.
Like he was trying to hold onto something already slipping through his fingers.
Savannah stood in front of him, wearing nothing but his t-shirt, the hem brushing against her thighs.
Her hands were trembling.
Her heart was pounding.
She had spent the last two weeks convincing herself this wasn’t real.
That it was temporary.
That when she left Wrightsville Beach, she could simply pack this up, tuck it away in some safe, quiet place inside her, and move on.
But standing there, staring at the man who had somehow become everything, she knew she had been lying to herself.
This was real.
He was real.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow, she was leaving.
Her chest ached, her throat tightened, but not from nerves. Not from fear. From the devastating realization that this wasn’t just a summer fling.
This was love.
The kind of love that wrecks you in the best way.
