He searches my face, still saying nothing, letting me keep going, which is good, because if he interrupts me now, I might chicken out.
“I was scared,” I rush on. “I still am. But I don’t want to keep choosing fear just because it’s familiar. I don’t want to wake up one day and realize I let the best thing in my life walk away because I didn’t think I deserved it.”
He steps closer. “Nora?—”
“I like you,” I cut in, voice shaking but steady enough. “A lot. Probably more than a lot.” I draw in a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. “There’s a good chance I love you.” When I open them, he’s still there. Still listening. “I just need you to know,” I finish softly, “that if you leave without me saying how I feel… I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”
Miles swallows. “You love me?”
I take the final step between us and nod. “I do. I love you.” My voice wavers, but I don’t pull back. “And I’m terrified.” I hold my hand out between us; it trembles, but I don’t hide it. “But I can’t keep running from the things that scare me.”
Silence stretches. The wind lifts my hair across my face, but I don’t brush it away. I don’t want to look at anything except him.
“You stole my heart the moment you walked away.”
“I know.”
“I chose you when I had no reason to believe you’d choose me back.”
“I know.” I turn my palms up between us. “Here. You can have your heart back.”
He shakes his head. “No. Keep it.” He raises his hands, framing my face. “It’s yours now,” he murmurs. “As long as you don’t run anymore.”
My lips curve into a small, shaky smile. “I won’t.”
He studies me for another long second, as if he’s memorizing the moment. Then the corners of his mouth lift. “I love you.”
And finally, his lips meet mine. This time, I don’t brace to flee. Scared has left the building, and I stay right where I am.
The drone hums somewhere behind us, forgotten. When we part, my forehead rests against his, our breaths mingling together. And for the first time since all of this began, the idea of staying doesn’t feel so scary. This is exactly where I belong.
Thirty-One
Chirping Squirrels
Nora
A loud beep cuts through the air. Miles releases me just long enough to retrieve the controller and guide the drone back to the ground. He gathers his equipment, shoving the controller in his bag, then meets my gaze with his hand out. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, already threading my fingers through his.
“On an adventure.”
He leads me off the main trail and onto something that barely qualifies as a path—narrow, overgrown, almost secret. With his bag slung over one shoulder and my hand secure in his, we duck under low branches and push through brush. The leaves whisper around us as if we’ve crossed some invisible boundary.
We break into a small clearing ringed by trees and thick greenery. Miles drops his bag and drone onto the grass, then turns back to me, his irises darker now. He slips an arm around my waist and pulls me in so fast I yelp, the sound dissolving the second his mouth crashes against mine. His lips are hot and demanding against mine. Then he’s walking me backward until my shoulders meet the rough bark of a tree.
I pull back just enough to breathe. “Are you sure you want to do this out here? In public?”
His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile. “You like being adventurous, right?”
“Yeah. But you?”
“I want to be adventurous with you.”
Golden flecks spark in his eyes before he closes the distance again. This kiss is deeper, slower. When he pulls back, his mouth traces an unhurried path along my jaw.
My fingers curl into his hair, guiding him down as my head tips back against the tree, breathless. “Mmm, Miles,” I murmur.
