“Okay.”
The single word leaves her lips so softly I almost think I imagined it. For a second, I just stare at her, the world grinding to a halt around us.
“Okay?” I echo, like a complete idiot. My voice cracks with disbelief. “Okay… as in…okay?”
Miranda grins—wide, shy, luminous—and nods. “Yeah. Okay.”
A stunned laugh escapes me. “So we’re doing this? This whole relationship thing?”
She lifts one shoulder in a sheepish shrug that absolutely destroys me. “Yeah. I guess we are. I mean… with a declaration like that, how could I resist you?”
“Exactly!” I point at her like it’s the most obvious truth in the universe. “How can you resist me?”
I lean in, unable to hold myself back another second, and kiss her. Really kiss her. Our mouths meet with a slow, gorgeous slide, and her lips part for me instantly—as if they’ve beenwaiting for this moment as long as I have. Our tongues brush, finding that rhythm that’s all ours. A perfect fit.
I pour everything into the kiss—joy, relief, hunger, devotion—every emotion that’s been living in my chest with nowhere to go. She just said yes.She said yes to us.And I don’t think I’ve ever felt this kind of happiness, the bone-deep, soul-lit kind that makes the world feel rewritten.
We kiss until our lips are swollen and tender, until our breathing comes in ragged pulls and we have no choice but to part. Miranda leans back a fraction, giggling—the soft, sweet sound I could get drunk on.
“So… I guess you’re happy about that?” she teases.
“Hell yeah, I’m happy about that,” I laugh, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “That’s the greatest thing you’ve ever said.”
I cradle her face, still breathless, still not believing this is real. “I love you, Miranda.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “I love you too, Miles.”
She says it with a quiet certainty that hits me right in the chest. I canfeelthe truth in her voice, no matter what shadows still linger in her mind. No matter what ghosts she’s fighting off. Her love is real. Solid. Steady. And it’s mine.
She’s mine.
And I know—down to the marrow—that we’re meant for this.
Meant for each other.
Meant for everything that comes next.
Her “Okay” is still echoing through my bones when I lean in to kiss her again—slow at first, reverent, like I’m relearning the mouth that just changed my whole life. But the moment she sighs into me, the kiss sharpens, deepens, grows hungrier. Miranda’s fingers curl into the short hair at the nape of my neck, tugging me closer, and the soft sound that leaves her throat punches straight through me.
I pull back just enough to look at her.
“Are you sure? Because there are no take-backs,” I whisper—not because I doubt the answer, but because I need to hear it from her lips, need the certainty reflected in her eyes.
She nods once and smiles. “I’m sure. No take-backs. I’m yours.”
It undoes me.
My hand slides under the hem of her sweatshirt, brushing the warm skin of her waist. She inhales sharply, her body arching instinctively into my touch. I lift the sweatshirt slowly. She raises her arms for me, letting me pull it over her head.
My breath stutters.
She’s beautiful. Soft. Strong. She looks at me like she trusts me with every fragile, trembling part of her.
I trail my fingertips along the slope of her ribs, downward, memorizing every inch. She shivers.
“Miranda,” I murmur, leaning down to kiss the center of her chest, “tell me you want this.”
Her fingers weave into my hair, and her voice trembles with need. “I want this.”
