I look at her—truly look—and feel that familiar ache in my chest again. Always thinking of others. Always leading with her heart.
“That’s a wonderful idea, kitten,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning back to the man.
“Would you mind a photo, sir? I’m goin’ to hang these proudly, and I’d like to remember the moment.”
He grins. “Not at all, lad.”
I take off theBoss Babehat, turning it over in my hands for a second. It still makes me smile—it’s hers, after all. I hand it back to her, then rake a hand through my hair, and she laughs, that quiet, contagious sound that pulls a smile out of me without permission. She lifts her phone and snaps the picture—me and the old artist, each holding a drawing, the skyline behind us like a painting come to life.
She hands me the hat back, and I put it on again, slipping back into the comfort of anonymity. The man offers his hand.
“Name’s Patrick O’Shea.”
“Roger,” I answer, shaking his.
His eyes glint. “Aye, I knew I recognized a superhero when I saw one.”
I laugh under my breath. “Don’t know about that, but thank you.”
He nods toward Cat. “You’ve brought us a lot of happy moments, lad. Makes me glad to see your eyes sparklin’ like that again. Keep hold of that pretty girl.”
Something in my chest squeezes. I pull my wallet out, fish through it, and hand him what I’ve got—nearly a thousand dollars in cash.
He tries to refuse. “Oh no, son, that’s far too much—”
“Take it,” I insist, pressing it into his palm. “Your work’s worth every bit. You deserve it.”
He accepts, eyes misty, and we shake hands again before he says softly, “Take care of each other.”
“Thank you,” Cat says with a gentle smile, lifting her hand in a small wave. The man returns it, still smiling, and we start walking again.
The planks vibrate faintly under our steps, the pulse of the city carrying through the steel. Cat’s smile hasn’t faded once.
“That was the sweetest thing ever,” she says, bumping my shoulder. “I knew from day one you had a beautiful heart.”
I don’t know what to say, so I just look at her. She keeps talking, voice bright with emotion.
“You probably changed that man’s whole day,” she goes on. “He’ll remember you for the rest of his life.”
She stops, takes off her backpack, unzips it. “Here—give me those. I’ll keep them safe.”
She slides the tubes inside, still talking, still glowing. “Honestly, I wasthisclose to bawling my eyes out.”
Then she looks up, and our eyes lock.
The world stills.
My heart gives a hard feckin’ lurch. If I’m wrong about this, it’ll ruin everything, but God help me, I’d rather ruin everything than ever walk away from her.
And then I move.
Without thinking, I step forward, closing the small distance between us. My hand finds her waist, the other lifting to her cheek. She gasps softly but doesn’t pull away. Her skin is warm, her breath trembling against mine.
“Rogue—”
I can’t hold back anymore, so I lean down and kiss her.
It’s soft at first, tentative, like a secret being spoken for the first time. Then she sighs, melts into me, and the world tilts on its axis.
