I read slowly because every time I read it, something different catches against my ribs.
Tonight it’s this:
If you ever find the place you can breathe again, don’t run from it.
I stop.
Read it again.
And then, because apparently I enjoy emotional self-destruction in delicate cursive, I read it a third time.
I can breathe here.
That’s what has me so messed up.
Not because this place is easy. It isn’t. Not because it’s safe, exactly. Especially with everyone so undecided about the men, and I guess me too. It doesn’t feel simple enough for that word anymore. There’s danger here. Real danger. Men with old enemies and complicated pasts, and the kind of loyalty that comes sharpened at the edges.
And yet…
I can breathe here.
At Coyote Cup, with Lani making me drink my feelings.
At The Hollow, while Arlo pretends not to notice everything.
On Main Street, with flower boxes and gossip and the weird, stubborn magic of this town.
With Ivy’s bedlam and Olivia’s steadiness and Delaney’s dry honesty and Sloane’s quiet understanding.
With Bill Granger acting like affection is a war crime.
With Finn making me laugh when I don’t want to.
With Zane rearranging the world around me so gently, I almost miss the love in it.
With Ryder looking at me like I’m something that matters enough to protect and dangerous enough to ruin him.
I exhale too fast and laugh at myself under my breath, because wow, Aurora, that was an aggressively revealing internal monologue. Great work.
Still…
The truth is sitting there now.
I fold one edge of the letter between my fingers and stare at the words.
Was this what Evie meant?
Could it really bethisplace? Forever?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Finn
There area lot of things I didn’t expect to become on a Saturday morning.
A farmer’s market escort is definitely high on that list.
It took Aurora ten minutes to convince me to leave the bar.
