Page 83 of The Last Love Story

My head spins.

“You can’t forgive him,” Hux says. “And you also can’t forgive me.”

“You tried to help me,” I say.

Hux shakes his head. “When we were eleven. When we first met. I thought you were... a force, Ripley. You remember those recesses, on the playground? You and Nef, running around and telling stories. Well, I overheard one. About a boy with forest-green eyes and the bravery to save a galaxy.

“I thought you were talking about me, Rip, and it terrified me. You knew exactly who you were, but you got it all wrong about me. I wasn’t brave or selfless or larger than life like the boy in your stories.

“So I told you that we couldn’t be friends. Because I knew I’d only disappoint you. And I also knew that it would disappoint me, to be friends with you.”

My breath catches. “Why?”

“I don’t want to be friends with you, Ripley Hart.”

“I think,” I say slowly, “I’d like to get back to kissing now.”

When Hux feels my body sag against him, he laughs and shows me a secret door. It’s a bedroom, which should be glorious on its own, but then I see around the corner. A bathroom. With ashower.

My mouth drops open. “What is this?”

Hux holds his arms out. “You weren’t in Lyceum long enough to getanyof the perks. All their safe houses have rooms like this. Librarians are notoriously sleepy people.”

I walk over to the bed, pressing down on the soft comforter with a filthy hand. It gives just enough. It’s perfect.

I look at Hux. “I could kiss you,” I say.

“Could you?” he jokes, and I grab his shirt and yank him close, following through on my promise. When my attempt to climb him like a tree has me stumbling into the bed—mostly from exhaustion—he laughs and rights me before heading to the bathroom, where he turns on the water and it sputters to life. As I stare, he tests the temperature, then shakes his hand dry. When he looks back at me, a smirk curls up the side of his mouth.

“Shower, Hart. You smell like righteous indignation and jet fuel,” he jokes, brushing past me. He takes off his shirt, and I blush hard before realizing he’s wearing something under it.

He thrusts the shirt to me. “Here. Sleep in this.”

I bring it to my nose, inhaling Hux’s smell and grinning like a fool.

I watch him leave, and then strip down and jump in the shower. I scrub the day away—the ocean, the crash, theI love you, toothat turned rancid.

I get out and brush my teeth, slipping into Hux’s shirt and hitting the light before opening the door.

Hux is on the bed, his boots still on. He’s asleep, one armsplayed out while the other rests on his chest. My gut twists at the sight of him. The boy who I got totally wrong, but who sees me for who I really am.

I tiptoe to the bed and crawl beside him, snuggling up to his side.

His eyes flutter open, and he moves to sit up. “Sorry. Long day.”

I put a hand on his chest and push him back down. “Don’t. I don’t want to be alone,” I whisper. “I haven’t slept well in... I don’t know how long. I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But I know I can rest if... if you’re here with me.”

Hux swallows, nodding as he pushes up to give me a soft kiss before lying down. I grab a folded blanket at our feet and pull it up over us. He wraps his arms around me, and I wrap mine around him.

And I sleep, safe in the arms of the boy who is not my friend, never my friend. Because he’s something more.

Hux and I sneak back into the White House early in the morning. He uses his key card, which is a risk—we don’t know if Becka has outed him to the rest of the Machs, who might have kicked him out. Not to mention what would happen if she had outed him to President Graves. But if that was the case, we probably would have been arrested the second we reached street level.

We walk far apart as we enter the main courtyard. Atfirst glance, it will look like a Hammer is walking the president’s future daughter-in-law to her room. Thankfully, no one is looking too closely. Hux snuck off and found me some clothes from Lyceum’s storeroom; I’m swimming in a massive flannel shirt and black sweatpants.

I sneak open the French doors—remembering the squeaky hinge—and slip inside with Hux. The second we’re alone, his eyes go dark and playful, my only warning before he sneaks a kiss as I switch on the light. At which point, I scream.

Chapter 20