Her pulse pounded. “So what’s the ending then?” she whispered.
Darren didn’t answer.
He let go of her wrist and cupped her jaw. Tilted her face up. For a moment, his gaze was just holding hers, the world narrowing.
And then he kissed her.
Right there in the middle of the gate. Gasps, cheers, even applause erupted around them.
Emma didn’t care about any of it—not them, not the cameras. He was here, within reach. Hers to touch.
She kissed him back, fierce with everything she thought she’d lost. Her fingers curled in his hair, every part of her softening and sparking at once.
They finally pulled apart, breathless. Darren caressed her cheek with his thumb.
“I have no idea what the ending is,” he murmured. “But that was the beginning.”
A soft, relieved breath escaped her as she rested her forehead against his chest. “Nice line, Cole.”
He kissed the crown of her head, his voice vibrating against her hair. “You’re very sweaty.”
That pulled a giddy laugh from her. “I basically ran an airport half-marathon to get here in time. With a Pikachu obstacle course.”
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through him. “Worth it?”
Emma tipped her head back, meeting his eyes. Still velvet dark, still too much, still everything. Her lungs ached, her legs trembled—but her heart felt steady. Certain.
“I don’t know. Kiss me again, and I’ll think about it?”
He did. And it was.
Phones and voices still crowded them, but for once she didn’t shrink away. Didn’t hide. She let them see her—lethimsee her—the way she’d been terrified of for so long.
“Darren,” Sienna called dryly, alone at the gate desk with a visibly stressed agent. “Am I right to assume I should book you another flight home?”
He grinned. “Have a good flight, Sienna. Call me when you land.”
She tossed him his backpack, shaking her head as she turned her back to board.
“She’s not as scary as Leah,” Emma said under her breath, watching Sienna’s blonde ponytail whip out of sight, “but she’s getting there.”
Darren smiled, slow and deliberate, making her legs go a little weak. “Well. No handlers to bother us now. How about we finally get you those tacos?”
A sense of pure joy surged inside her, bright and dizzying. She nodded.
They started walking back. No rush this time, no pressure. Emma leaned her head against his shoulder as he laced their fingers together.
“I can’t believe you pulled this off in an airport,” he muttered. “I feel like that kid inLove, Actually.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Emma said, relaxing into him as the adrenaline finally dissipated. “You’re not nearly as cute.”
He huffed dramatically. “Watch it, Whitehart, or I’ll take you back to the Horridor.”
Emma answered with a playful punch to his arm. Then she let out a slow breath, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all. “So, who do you think will kill me first for this—Miranda or the Netflix people?”
Darren let out an amused breath, thumb brushing her knuckles.
“Neither. That”—he nodded toward the crowd still buzzing behind them—“didn’t read like a PR stunt. It read like a story people will root for. And do you know who loves a good story?”
