Page 144 of Embrace

A shiver runs up my spine, but I try not to let it show or bring any attention to the goose bumps on my skin. Before I can answer with another splash of water, Kian grabs the hose on the side of the sink and sprays my face with cold water. My white shirt is soaked, and my hair starts to curl.

He tilts his head, letting go of the hose so it retracts. “I think I won.”

I take a deep breath and step closer, my body heating and my heart hammering against my ribs as he watches me. “Was that your goal? To get me allwet?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, and I notice his breathing changes. “That’s not—”

I pull out the hose, pressing the button so the hiss of pressure releases the spray straight at Kian’s face. I don’t stop, not even when he tries to snatch it out of my hand, and not even when he covers my hand with his and pulls me right against his chest so we’re both getting soaked.

“Okay, okay, I’m—I’m…sorry,” I shriek through gasps of air.

He doesn’t stop. Not until I’m begging, clutching onto his shirt, and shivering. Only then does the onslaught of this dumb game I started end. Because Kian finishes every game.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

I look up at him through wet lashes, my teeth chattering. “I said I’m sorry.”

“Louder, sweetheart.”

But then even in this moment, when my whole body is freezing and I can barely feel any sensation, there’s still one that makes my heart beat faster. I realize that the reason is right in front of me. Someone who makes me laugh like there’s nothing more important in this moment, like there’s an invisible force around us, always finding pockets of good.

“I love you,” I say instead.

The onslaught of water stops immediately, and he’s blinking through wet lashes, trying to figure out if he’s heard me right, so just for good measure I say it again.

“I love you, Kian. It kind of makes me sick to think I haven’t said it earlier. But I hope you know that I’ve felt it for so long. I love how much you care about your friends, and how much you love the people in your life. I love how even after giving a piece of yourself to so many people, you still have some to give me. You only evergave me all of you, and I want to give you all of me. For as long as you’ll let me.”

He drops the sink hose, using his fingers to brush the water away from my face, like he’s memorizing the moment. Kian doesn’t speak, but his mouth finds mine, reverent, unhurried, speaking everything he hasn’t. His hand slides down until his fingers press into the curve of my back, holding me to him. Then he squeezes lightly, like he’s making sure it’s me, forcing me to sink deeper into him, threading my fingers through his wet hair, tugging until we’re chest to chest. My body fizzes with something so complete, so above wanting and needing that I know this is it, this is enough for me.

When he pulls back, I see Kian-shaped stars. He’s so gentle with me, I nearly start to cry. How could he make me feel so much without saying a word?

“I know,” he finally says. “And not because you love everyone, but because you give everyone a chance to show you why you should love them. You gave me that chance, and I don’t intend on wasting it. You don’t love me because I love you; you love me because you think I deserve it. So yeah, I know, Scarlett. And I love you, too, baby.”

There’s a calm that settles over his face, a look I’ve never seen on his face before—maybe only when he listens to “Over the Rainbow,” but there’s something so pure about it that I wish I could capture it in a bottle.

“You know?” I ask again.

“I know.”

Fifty-two

Scarlett

Winter break sneaksup faster than I want it to, and I’m still buried under a mountain of notes and flashcards, cramming for my last exam of the semester. My hands are cramping from writing out practice essays, my coffee’s gone cold, and my brain feels like it’s melting. The secret study room—the one tucked behind the library that barely anyone knows about except for me, Sierra, and the hockey guys—has become my second home.

I’m mid-breakdown over the next chapter when the door creaks open. Sierra strolls in, smug as ever, with Dylan limping behind her, wearing a massive medical boot on his sprained ankle. He takes one look at the room, pops an entire Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup in his mouth, and mumbles something about a padded cell.

I glance around at the gray walls and terrible overhead lighting. He’s not wrong.

Sierra crosses her arms, eyeing the mess of papers and highlighters surrounding me. “We’ve been given strict orders to extract you from this room.”

Before I can protest, Dylan limps over, plops down on the edge of my table, and promptly closes my textbook and laptop like they belong to him. He’s got his glasses on today, the ones he rarely wears unless he’s reading. But for some reason, he’s been rocking them a lot more on the daily. “Let’s go, Red. Your boyfriend’s got a surprise for you.”

The wordboyfriendstill sends a thrill straight through my stomach, equal parts excitement and disbelief. I’ve never had one like Kian before. No one who looks at me the way he does, like I hung the damn moon.

I grab my sweater and let them drag me out.

We walk across campus, cutting through the crisp December air. The sidewalks are slick in places, but Dylan hobbles along, his arm slung dramatically over Sierra’s shoulders like she’s his human crutch.