“You’ll survive.” He peppers kisses over my face before rolling off the bed and pulling on his clothes.
Once dressed, he leans in for one last kiss, and I grab his hand. “Zac, I—” The words catch in my throat.
His eyes go wide for a second before softening, and he squeezes my hand. “I know.”
I let him go, my chest tightening as I watch him unlock my door and slip out.
When the front door closes downstairs, I roll over andbury my head in the warm sheets, breathing in his lingering scent.
My heart beats an unsteady rhythm.
I almost said it; the words were right there, sitting on my tongue.
He knew exactly what I was trying to say.
The intensity of what I feel for Zac should scare me, but his steady confidence is rubbing off on me and giving me the courage to go after what I want. Him.
I want a life where I get to wake up with him, where I don’t have to hide him behind locked doors. A life where I don’t have to bring Hannah into my mess just to keep my dad off my back. I want to hold his hand in public and kiss him without fear of what might happen if my dad finds out.
The only way that can happen is if I tell him.
Because loving Zac is worth whatever comes next.
My leg bouncesharder the closer we get to my dad’s house.
Hannah places her hand on my thigh, smiling softly when I glance at her.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” she reassures me.
I snort. “Easy for you to say.”
“What’s the plan?”
My stomach twists. “I’m supposed to have a plan?”
She squeezes my leg. “I’m proud of you for doing this, Noah. You and Zac deserve to be happy.”
As if he knows we’re talking about him, my phone buzzes, and I look down to read his text.
Zac: Can’t stop thinking about waking up next to you.
My lips kick into a smirk.
Noah: Is that your way of telling me you miss me?
Zac: Maybe.
Noah: Playing hard to get?
Zac: Always. Call me later?
Noah: I will.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Hannah says when I lock my phone. “You can’t let your dad control your life forever. He doesn’t get to have that power over you.”
I nod, unable to speak as we pull onto the road that leads to my family’s property. My chest tightens when the gates swing open. Sweat beads on my forehead as anxiety bubbles in the pit of my stomach. I suck in a desperate breath and link my fingers with Hannah’s, squeezing tight.
“It’s okay,” she murmurs, cupping my cheek. “Whatever it takes to get you through this weekend, I’ve got you. I’ll follow your lead. You’re in control here.”
