Page 116 of River & Rue

Gazing into her concerned blue eyes, I realize if I wait for the courage to tell her this, I never will.

“Seven years ago. I was in San Diego for the twins’ graduation—your graduation. Ivy told me to be nice to you because you’d just been dumped. At the party that night, you asked me to kiss you. Do you remember?”

She stiffens and looks away. “You said you’d rather drink sewer water.”

“I’m sorry. God, I’m so fucking sorry. I freaked out because of how badly I wanted you to mean it. I was afraid you were just drunk, that you didn’t actually want me.” I stroke her jaw, coaxing her eyes back to mine. “I should have said yes, Rue. I was supposed to kiss you.”

She frowns. “Supposed to?”

“Yes. Granny told me about you when I was eleven years old, and I buried her message with everything else when Caleb died. I only remembered it recently.” Her eyes widen, and I smile faintly. “Just one of those probable, implausible things I understood years behind schedule.”

Her arms go slack, hurt swimming in her eyes before it’s masked. My pulse ticks up again as I try to work out how I fucked up.

It hits me a second too late.

“I’ve heard all of Ivy’s so-called messages. They’re vague as hell. But my raging skepticism aside, unless Granny K said my name, you have no way of knowing if her message was even about me. Did she say my name?”

“No, but⁠—”

“So you don’t know. Not for sure. Which means all your confidence about us is based on something a psychic told you over twenty years ago—when you were a literal child. Everything you said yesterday…”

She tries to step away, but I hold fast. Wind stirs between us as the eye of the storm starts to pass.

“No. No. I meant every word I said yesterday.”

“Then how? How are you so positive this won’t blow up in our faces?”

Because I love you pools on my tongue, but the words evaporate before I can speak them. No matter how much I want to give them to her, I still have rubble to climb over. A heart terrified of being broken and hoping to be chosen.

“Because I feel it, Rue. I feel us. I always have. As much as I wish I could go back seven years and kiss you, Granny’s message has fuck-all to do with how I feel today. That’s all on you.”

The winds fade as she relaxes in my arms, but I’m not out of the woods yet. She’s wearing an expression I’ve seen a thousand times.

I cradle her face in my palms. “What’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s strange, because you look annoyed.”

“Maybe your face is annoying me.”

I bite back a smile. “I bet it wouldn’t annoy you if you were sitting on it.”

Her mouth drops open, color spreading beneath my thumbs. I chuckle and drop a kiss on her forehead.

“So fucking cute when you blush. Now tell me why you’re annoyed.”

Her nose scrunches. “Because of two and a half years ago.”

Even though I know instantly what she’s referring to, I frown in apparent confusion.

“What happened two and a half years ago?”

She trails a hand up my chest, slow and teasing. I’m completely unprepared for her to grab my nipple and twist it. I stumble backward, wheezing out a pained laugh as I rub my chest.

“Ow—damn, that hurts.”

Rue arches an unimpressed eyebrow. “You deserved it. Liars get purple nurples.”