Page 87 of Breaking Dahlia
I reach back, threading my fingers through his. “You’re heavy,” I murmur.
He grunts, squeezing me tighter. “Deal with it.”
I laugh, and the sound is soft, real. I’ve never felt more at home.
We lie there, watching the moon creep across the walls. His breathing evens out, but I know he’s not asleep. Neither am I.
I turn to face him, dragging my nails across his chest. “You ever think about the future?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes my hand, lays it flat over his heart. “Every day.”
I press my palm into his skin, feeling the steady thump. “What do you see?”
He shifts, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You. Here. Maybe a few kids, if we don’t fuck them up too bad.”
I snort. “We’re going to be terrible parents.”
He grins, eyes bright in the darkness. “But they’ll be tough as shit.”
I laugh, then kiss him, slow and deep. The kind of kiss that says forever without needing a ring.
He pulls me in, holding me so close I can barely breathe. “From untouchable to mine,” he whispers into my hair.
I close my eyes and let it wash over me.
I’m not a princess anymore. Not a weapon, not a chip to be won or lose.
I’m just a girl who found her home in the arms of the most dangerous boy in the world.
And that’s all I ever wanted.
