Page 87 of The Other Side
He buried his face in my hair, taking a deep breath in. “I think you’re the only person I’d want to invite,” he said sweetly before kissing just behind my ear.
“You wouldn’t at least want your mom and sister to come?”
“They can if they want, but you’re the only one who matters. You’re the first person in averylong time who has encouraged me to pursue my photography,” Chance admitted.
I half turned in his arms. The narrow bench made it more difficult. “You’re a brilliant photographer. Don’t you dare let anyone say otherwise,” I told him firmly. I needed him to see, hear, and feel my conviction. I hated that those around him had let him down. He was just like our students. All he needed was one person to push him to try.
Chance’s face softened, then, with a slow smile, he repeated words I’d said to him on the day we met: “I really want you to kiss me.”
“I bet you do,” I chided. Blushing, I leaned forward and kissed Chance sweetly.
“Thank you for believing in me,” he whispered.
