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“I know. We’ll stop, I promise.”

“You can’t promise me that.” She sighs unhappily. “Unless we stop talking to each other.”

“I was actually thinking about us talking more.”

She frowns, confused. “What do you mean?”

I shake my head. “I’ll explain in a minute. Shall we get out of here?”

A smile crosses her face as we both remember the same thing. The first night. The beginning of everything.

Her answer is the same as it was all those months ago.

“Yes.”

Relief floods through me, and only now, as my body relaxes, do I realize how tense I’ve been since I got into my car at home.

“Okay.” The engine springs into life, and I guide the car back to the road. There isn’t much traffic this time of night. The residents of Back Bay are all tucked up in their beds, so they’ll be ready for another day at the office tomorrow morning.

Something tells me that Lia and I won’t be getting much sleep tonight. Again. We have a lot to talk about. Yes, talk. Nothing else.

The drive doesn’t take long, and when we’re finally in the elevator and I glance at Lia in the mirror, I realize she’s wearing my hoodie. I tug at the soft fabric, feeling ridiculously happy that she’s got it on in spite of everything. She blushes like I’ve caught her out, and I’m so done for. Our fingers touch, not on purpose, but it just happens. An electrifying tingle shoots up my arm and into my chest and hits me right in the heart.

The blush on her cheeks deepens, and I have to fight with all my willpower to keep from pulling her toward me and kissing her.

First, we have to talk. And then we’ll see . . .

I let her go after the elevator doors open with a soft whir. We walk to my apartment door in silence, only the sound of our footsteps on the worn carpet. I fiddle with the key in the lock for a moment too long, and from one second to the next, I feel terribly nervous.

We go straight to the bedroom. I don’t know why it is, but somehow we aren’t very compatible with the living room.

Lia slips out of her boots, and I kick off my shoes while she sits down on the bed. I follow her, my hands slipping under her sweatshirt all by themselves. She gasps when my cold hands touch her warm skin, but she doesn’t pull away, snuggling a little closer to me instead.

I bury my face in her neck and breathe in her scent. Then I let her go and slide back a little, because otherwise, I’ll forget why I came to see her in the first place. Or how to think.

She smiles at me and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. The uncertainty in her eyes is still obvious. “Didn’t you want to talk?”

I clear my throat, and now it’s my turn to blush. “Yes, right.”

“About something specific?” She bites her lower lip and fiddles with the cord of her hood because she’s still reaching for the necklace that’s waiting in the drawer of my nightstand. I want to give it to Olivia for Christmas.

I exhale and sit up. “I love you, Ophelia,” I say, my voice cracking.

Her eyes widen. She didn’t expect me to repeat this. “Phoenix, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just . . . let me talk, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers hoarsely.

“Since the beginning, this thing between us has been so complicated, but somehow it was also the best thing that ever happened to me. It still is. I don’t think it will ever stop being complicated, but I want this complicated thing with you, okay? I want a night where we not only fall asleep together but also wake up together, without you having to sneak back to school. Not just one but many. I want every part of you. The insecure and the jealous and the lonely. I want the brave part and the emotional part and the sensitive part and . . . I just want you, Ophelia.”

“We really are complicated,” Lia murmurs.

“Since the beginning,” I repeat.

“Phoenix, you know I want that too, right?” Her gaze becomes pleading, and my heart squeezes. “But—”

“But?” I ask, my voice tight, even though I already know what she’s going to say.