1642734778_punk-57-pdf

I touch my forehead to his, not knowing what I would do without him. I
hate that he stopped writing. I hate that he pretended to be Masen. But I’m
so glad we’re here.
I just really hate that it was his sister’s death that brought him here.
“I understand why you stopped writing and why you came here to get
away, but…” I look him in the eyes. “Why did you enroll at school? If it
wasn’t for me, what was it for?”
He shakes his head, letting out a breath. “Nothing.”
“Misha.”
“Really, it was nothing,” he tells me, cutting me off. “I thought I had
another reason to be here, someone who I used to know, but no. It was
dumb, and I feel stupid. I shouldn’t have come.” And then he smiles,
wrapping his arms around me. “But I’m not sorry I did.”
I cock my head, aggravated. He’s being cagey again.
“I love you,” he says. “That’s all that matters.”
And he looks so calm and happy, I don’t want to ruin it. I take in a deep
breath and relax into him. “Can I have the scarf back?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you,” I say, my fingers tingling as my heartbeat picks up.
His fingers grip my waist. “It about fucking time.”
I breathe out a laugh, kissing him. He’s always gotta bust my chops.
“And I think it’s about time I met your mom,” he states.
“Ugh, do we have to?” I trail kisses over his cheek and down his neck,
more interested in something else right now.
“You think she won’t like me?”
I sigh, looking back up at him. My mom is lovely, but she’s strict.
Seeing me in love and giddy and everything, her first concern will be
making sure I don’t blow off college to get married.