Page 45 of The Run Back Home

It's the perfect kiss. Not our first—not even close. But it feels like it. Like all of them before were just a warm up for this one.

I melt into him, and he tugs me in tighter as his hand slips from my chin past my ear.

I go to move my free hand to the back of his head, but that quick, he pulls back. My lids open slowly to find him surrounded by lights I'd never see again if it meant my eyes were closed because his lips were on mine.

"This isn't the surprise." He smirks coyly, satisfied with himself already, then grabs the handle again and pushes through the doorway.

It takes my eyes a minute to adjust to the contrast—to let go of the darkness and latch on to the four bright, blank white walls we're surrounded by now.

A quiet disappointment flutters in my stomach, but then Jace adjusts his palm against mine, and the warmth and slightly rough edges soothe it instantly.

I take in the room, though there's not much to see. Just a few other people standing around waiting, staring at the empty space, anticipating what's to come.

Jace looks down at me, excitement in his expression, and arches his brows as if to say Just wait.

Another few seconds of confusion pass as my eyes wander the room for clues, and I flinch when a voice suddenly bellows out around us.

"Welcome to Northern Alaska—"

I gasp—at his words and the shift—as the plain walls transform immediately into a three-sixty view of the arctic terrain.

My gaze flies to meet Jace's waiting for me.

He smiles contently and runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "Told ya," he whispers.

"Here, some of the harshest, yet most beautiful, conditions on Earth combine."

"How did you know about this?"

He doesn't answer—and I don't wait for him to.

My focus is redirected when small penguin-like birds waddle onto the walls now covered in what feels like endless water. Muted blues and soft grays have replaced the crisp white paint, and the overhead lights have dimmed completely.

"Oh my God," I squeal quietly, my eyes rushing to take them all in at once.

Jace slowly tightens his grip around mine, and I squeeze back, flinching when a rush of cold air blows out around us.

The room explodes with oohs and ahs as the small space transforms into the Arctic itself—the cool breeze on our skin, the sound of the steel-blue ocean lapping against the shore echoing around us. Snow sits in patches on top of slate rock in the distance, and over all of it, the narrator speaks again, explaining the behavior of the puffins.

"Wow," I whisper, my neck swiveling in every direction.

It's like an out-of-body experience—my senses on fire as the images flash so realistically on the screen. My arms erupt in goosebumps from the sudden drop in temperature as my mind attempts to wrap itself around it all.

But then Jace sways closer—so subtly that I don't even think he notices. But I do. Because it grounds me in the best way, reminding me that I'm not actually in the tundra.

I'm here.

With him.

"They mate for life, you know," he whispers.

I snap up, finding his eyes as they trail the puffins' movement with their tiny feet and bright beaks, stark against the rest of it. "Most of them come back to the same burrow every year… even after traveling thousands of miles away."

I roll my head toward him, mouth open, voice hushed. "How the hell did you know that?"

He shrugs confidently, still following one of the birds as it waddles across the ice.

I huff out a laugh—half amused, half impressed—right before the voice booms out again.