Daltyn doesn’t even hesitate. “Then we figure it out.”
Emotion lodges painfully in my throat. “What if it’s complicated?”
His lips brush softly against my temple.
“Baby,” he murmurs, “I survived Connor Byrns for three years.” His mouth twitches. “I can survive complicated.”
I laugh helplessly.
But my chest aches anyway.
Because somewhere along the way, this stopped feeling temporary.
And maybe the most dangerous part? I don’t think either of us knows how to let go anymore.
69
DALTYN
TheBlue Line Dinersmells like coffee, syrup, and fried food.
Connor once claimed it was the spiritual heartbeat of Vermont.
He was also once kicked out for trying to recreate a body check by the jukebox, so his credibility is questionable at best.
Still… Peyton likes it here.
And honestly? I like watching her be happy.
Sunlight spills through the diner windows, catching in her golden hair while she laughs at something Gram texted her ten seconds ago.
“She sent a selfie,” Peyton says, horrified.
I sip my coffee slowly. “That doesn’t sound concerning enough.”
Her eyes widen. “She’s wearing leopard print spandex.”
“That still feels survivable.”
“She’s holding a margarita.”
“It’s ten in the morning.”
“She captioned it:Brunch is temporary, but being hot is forever.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
Peyton points at me. “There it is.”
I lean back in the booth. “What?”
“That smile.”
My mouth twitches.
“You look happier lately.”
Something warm settles heavily in my chest.
