And I will never love anyone the way I love him.
IthoughtI knew what love was.
Like, I really did. I thought love was comfort. Familiar. Predictable.
Something steady you could lean into without thinking twice.
I thought love was the quiet, everyday sort of thing—like knowing someone’s favorite coffee order or the way theyrearrange blankets when they sleep. I thought it was feeding them until they burst. Laughing when they’re on the toilet because of too many tostones.
But apparently, love isn’t always gentle or safe or logical. Apparently, love can sucker-punch you right in the gut and wipe out everything you thought you understood about your heart. I never thought I’d be scared of a phone call, but every time his uncle Jude calls, I worry this will be it. He’ll leave, and what if I can’t go with him?
Suddenly, love isn’t soft. It’s fucking loud. It’s messy. It’s inconvenient. It’s someone waltzing into your life like they own oxygen, and instantly, you’re breathing different. It’s arguing because you care, walking away, only to want them closer, telling yourself “no” while your entire soul screams “yes.”
I thought I knew love.
Turns out what I knew was comfort dressed as emotion.
This…whateverthisis—the ache, the chaos, the stupid butterflies I pretend aren’t there—this is something else entirely.
Something only Dawson has created, and honestly, it scares the hell out of me.
But even feeling all those feelings, and knowing this could end at any moment, I have fallen so hard for him, I know there is no choice but to love him.
My heart seizes in my chest when he looks up from his side of the bed, his dimple showing in his left cheek as he drinks me in. He always does that, looks at me like he can’t get enough, and I live for it. “That was fast. You didn’t wash your hair?”
My heart sings in my chest. The guy knows my hair-washing schedule, and he even helps me with it. Guys before would laugh if I asked them to brush my hair since my arm gets tired, but Dawson was all about it. I mean, come on, how could I not fall for him for that right there?
And he brings me snacks while I’m waiting for the conditioner to set.
“I’ll do it tonight,” I say with a wave. “You didn’t have to make the bed by yourself.”
He comes over to me, gathering me in his arms, and my hands come to rest on his chest. He feels so solid, so good, so mine. I’m obsessed with him. “I’ll help tonight.”
“Don’t you have to study for that exam tomorrow?
“I can do that too,” he says, kissing my temple. “Listen, I need to go by my place. I need to grab some stuff, and Louis wants to have dinner.”
We’ve been so busy this week with school, workouts, and recording. I was looking forward to a night in, but I didn’t realize he had made plans with his brother. I shouldn’t be upset. He hasn’t hung with Louis by himself in weeks. All his time has been mine, so I’m sure Louis is getting pissy, given how much he texts Dawson. But still, I’m a tiny bit butthurt. More disappointed than I should be, I mutter, “Oh.”
He cocks his head to the side and then smiles. “With us.”
I bite my lip as our gazes lock. “I understand if you want to go alone.”
He scoffs. “Why the hell would I want that? I miss you too much when I’m not with you.”
My lips twitch. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says, kissing my forearm. “Don’t like it.”
I grin. “It hurts.”
He nods as he moves past me to go to the bathroom. “It does. Zero stars.”
“Do not recommend.”
He pauses, looking down at me. He takes my jaw in his fingers and shakes his head. “Oh, Ihighlyrecommend missing you. It means you’re mine. And just so we’re clear, no one else gets to miss you like that. Only me.”
“Only you,” I say, going to my tippy-toes to kiss him. He pulls me in closer, and I can still taste myself on his mouth. When I pull back, against his lips, I say, “I love that you still taste like me.”
