This. Her. Home.
I’ve been searching for Clover Danforth.
Because she’s the only home I’ve ever known. I feel it as though it’s always been a part of my history, as sure as my blood type, as strong as my determination.
Her entire body shivers against mine, and reality seeps in. She’s freezing, so I pull back. One kiss. Two pecks. A final brushof lips, and then we’re both breathless, panting, desperate for oxygen that resides in the other person’s lungs.
I can barely form words.
“That was—” Her chest heaves.
“On your list?” I manage, my lungs working overtime. Nothing in my life has ever been like this.
“Better than my list.” She’s staring at me as though I’m made of starlight. Like I hung the moon just for her, and fuck me, don’t I wish I could. “Valen?—”
“Don’t.” I brush her cheek with my thumb. “Don’t overthink it. Not tonight.”
Not ever.
“But—”
“I know your natural inclination is to fight, to question because that’s what you’ve had to do to survive. But tonight, please, let’s just be two people without any secrets.” I kiss her again. Softer, more civilized, but no less passionate. I’m trying to show her what I can’t say aloud yet. “We can worry about everything else tomorrow. But tonight—” I press my forehead to hers. “Tonight, you’re checking things off your list. And I’m the lucky bastard helping you do it.”
She buries her face in my chest, and I feel her words more than hear them because they sear into my heart like a brand. “I won’t survive you.”
My ribs crack. I’m raw and vulnerable, and it’s terrifying.
Because I hear what she’s really saying.Everyone leaves. You left once. You’ll leave again.
And she’s not wrong to fear it.
“Good.” My voice is rough, dry, mangled. Wrecked. “You’re not meant to survive me. I learned that the second you fainted in my arms.” I wait until she looks at me, needing her to see this. To understand. But after tonight, I know it’s more than that. I swallow hard. “You’re not meant to survive this world,Honeybee. You’re meant to thrive, and I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure that happens.”
Even if it means breaking my own heart in the end.
As though she hears my unspoken vow, she cries, and we stand clutching one another, ignoring how the cold creeps into our bones and everything waiting for us in the days ahead.
Tonight, I kissed Clover Danforth and finally understood who I’m meant to be.
Hers.
Chief,the old fool, is smirking when he joins us in the parking lot. We’re cold, but calm and grinning like idiots drunk off endorphins.
“Have fun?” His question is wrapped in faux innocence.
“Like you weren’t sitting in there with your nose pressed to the window spying on us,” Clover shoots back. I love that she’s comfortable enough to sass him.
Chief hands me my jacket, and I drape it around Clover’s shoulders, then clasp both her hands in mine to warm them up.
“We should head back,” I say. “Get some?—”
“Sleep,” Chief nods. His all-knowing expression is much too smug for my liking. “Long day tomorrow.”
Right. Tomorrow.
The walk to the motel is subdued, except for Chief humming a tune that sounds suspiciously close to the song Clover and I sang together, which means he’ll never let us forget that moment.
Wrecks howls from inside Chief’s room as we approach.
