But this—looking down at everything… I’ve missed this.
Nico’s hand lands on mine. I look up at him, but he’s staring at Wintermore.
“Can you see Shay’s place from here?”
He nods. “Not at night, though. Shay and Noelle live above their bakery on Main Street.” He traces his finger over the window, following the shape of the long road that cuts straight through town. “And Georgie…” I wonder if he realizes he stumbles over her name less the more he talks about her. “We have a bench for her by the reservoir. On really clear days, I can see the bench from here. Sometimes I see Shay sitting there.”
The sadness in his voice is unmissable, and I can’t stop myself from leaning my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his middle. I feel rather than hear his sharp intake of breath.
“We should come back here during the day at some point. I’d like to see it.”
Nico shifts so he can meet my gaze. “You’ll love it. But you can’t see this in the daylight.” He gently grips my chin and tilts my face so I’m looking up atthe sky.
I feel the air rush out of me. A million little stars are shining over us, scattered across the sky like confetti. They’re extra bright, since there’s no moon tonight, and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen so many.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, and Nico winds his arm around my shoulder. We’re kind of clinging to each other, which more or less sums up how things have been going since I almost passed out on him.
“Do you miss being up there?”
“Yes,” I answer without even thinking. Of course I miss flying. “Flying isn’t the problem. And I know, statistically, the chance of me ever being in another plane crash is practically nonexistent. But I can’t handle the responsibility for so many people anymore. And I can’t bear the thought of putting that responsibility on another pilot. Like, what if something happened and I got hurt? I don’t ever want to be the reason someone feels like I do. I don’t know if that makes sense, but?—”
“It does.” Nico’s voice is like gravel. He clears his throat, and though I want to look at him, eye contact with the stars is less pressure for conversations like these. “I haven’t been a passenger since the accident. Well, since the ambulance ride, I guess, but I don’t remember that. I tried at the beginning, but I couldn’t do it. I figured it would get better over time, but it didn’t. Years ago, before I had the boys, my car broke down on the highway. I was only a twenty-minute drive from Jackson, but it took me five hours to walk, and I was stuck there for almost a week until the parts came in for my car. If I’m ever going to be in anothercrash, it’s going to be my fault. I wouldn’t wish this guilt on my worst enemy.”
I hate that he gets it, hate how haunted he sounds. But it’s a relief to be understood. To find someone who understands the deep-rooted terror, regardless of how irrational it may be.
Movement catches my eye, and I gasp. “Look.”
It takes Nico a second to find the shooting star darting across the sky in the sea of sparkles, but I know he’s spotted it when his arms tighten around me. “Make a wish, angel.”
I squeeze my eyes closed. The sensible thing would be to wish for a little mental stability or the ability to do the job I’ve spent my whole life training for. But I’m twenty-six. I have plenty of time to get my life in order. And right now…I wish he would just kiss me.
When I open my eyes, they meet Nico’s. “What did you wish for?” I ask, and his lips quirk in amusement.
“I can’t tell you if I want it to come true.”
“Come on. Just a hint,” I tease.
His pupils flare, and maybe I’m imagining it, but I swear he gets closer to me. Close enough that I can almost taste the spearmint toothpaste we’ve been sharing for the past few days because I only packed a travel size, since I planned to share with Sloane when she got here. Close enough that one little gust of wind would be enough to blow me into him.
He stops when our lips are practically touching, just not quite. It’s fucking torture. “You know, I don’t put much stock in wishes on stars—and, for the record, I’m pretty sure that was a plane.”
Probably. It was moving pretty slowly. “We can pretend it was a shooting star, though. We’re good at pretending.”
“Or…” I feel his ragged breath against my lips, and the urge to grasp his flannel and kiss him is painful. “We don’t have to count on stars or planes to make our wishes come true. We could just… make it happen. What did you wish for, angel?”
Oh, he definitely knows. Which is fair, considering I haven’t been able to stop staring at his mouth. I swallow under the intensity of his gaze. Fuck. This is happening. This is really happening.
“Wait.”What the fuck am I doing?
17
ESTE
Nico pulls back, immediately giving me space. Which is not what I want.
I tug him back to me. “I didn’t say leave. I just…” My heart is racing, my stomach twisting. Like he knows I need it, Nico presses his forehead against mine.
“Talk to me.”
