Begin Again(104)

The words feel like hurtling myself off a cliff without knowing where I’ll land. I want to crush my eyes shut, want to brace myself for whatever comes next, but I can’t. Not when Milo’s are still steady on mine, so instantly soft, so instantly deep.

“Andie, I—”

“And maybe you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay, too. I—I just wanted you to know,” I say quickly, the anxiety catching up to me faster than I anticipated. “I needed you to know. Because either way, I want us to be part of each other’s lives. And California might be far, but there are always school breaks, and we could FaceTime, and—”

“Andie,” Milo tries again, a hint of a smile on his face.

But I’m not finished. “It wouldn’t be perfect, but it’s like your dad said, right? Anything worth doing starts with a—”

And then Milo’s firm hands are cupping my jaw, bringing my face up toward him as he leans down to meet me, catching my mouth and the last of my words with his. I lean into his touch, into the gentle warmth of the kiss, dizzy with the everything of him.

The burn I felt before, the ache—it was just the beginning of a rising tide, one that is swelling in me now, moving me on its own command. I’ve never kissed like this before; never been kissed like this before. With this sudden, frantic urgency, with the beautiful desperation of two people so overwhelmed that it borders on senseless, standing on the edge of the possibility of it all. This kiss, and all the ones that will come after. This moment, and the infinity beyond it.

I fall into him, his back pressed against the brick wall of the store, his hands still bracing me like I am something too precious to let go. The rhythm of the kiss softens, slow and exploratory. We both taste like coffee and sweetness and something that is just us, something that makes me feel bolder than I’ve ever been.

When we pull apart, his eyes are a brighter green than I’ve ever seen them; like spring leaves, like evergreen peaks, like new beginnings.

“Hey, new kid,” he says, pressing his forehead against mine.

I’m not even sure who answers, because I don’t have a single wit left. “Yeah?”

Milo’s hands press into the small of my back, and something in me pools warm and low, feeling the words in every inch of me before he says them out loud. “I love you, too.”

For once, I’m all out of words. I just tilt my face toward his and kiss him again. It’s sweet and chaste, the kind of kiss that leaves me feeling more exposed than the first one, the kind that defines what we are to each other more than words ever could.

“Also,” he says lowly, “I’m not leaving.”

The words feel too much like I’m dreaming to let them sink in. “You’re not?”

Milo laughs, and there’s something different about it. Something unselfconscious, the kind of happiness that belongs in a childhood that we’re stealing back right now.

He cups one of my cheeks with his hand, watching my face. “That’s what I was trying to tell you earlier.”

He’s expecting me to smile, but I shake my head into his palm. “Not—not because of . . .” I lean into his touch, trying to make him understand. “Milo, the last thing I’d ever want is to hold you back.”

“Same to you,” says Milo easily, using his hand to my brush my hair out of my face. We pull apart just enough that his arms are still around my neck and my hands are still on his hips. “But this is Cleo’s fault, not yours. She pulled out my application file, too. Showed me my essay. How I wrote about the town that raised me. How going to college at Blue Ridge wasn’t just an opportunity to learn, but to take what I learned to give it back to this place.”

I smile warmly, thinking of the Flynn legacy and how deeply ingrained it is not just in this town, but in one another. The kind of closeness that isn’t just bound by blood, but by love.

“The truth is, every time I thought about California, it didn’t feel real to me,” Milo admits. “But this is my home. I don’t want to go somewhere new—I want to make this place something new. I want to do what your mom did, and be a voice for this community.” He lowers his voice, adding, “And I want . . . to spend more time with my family. With my friends.”

The words seem to have their own warmth, spreading from the tips of his fingers into every part of my body.

“So you’re staying.” I lean back so I can smack lightly at the zipper to his jacket. “You scared me. You said it was your last shift.”

Milo’s eyes widen, only just realizing what I must have thought he meant by that.

“Shit. That’s the other thing I wanted to tell you. After you said my name on the broadcast—well, it turns out the local radio station had been trying to scout me for an internship. Paid.” He lifts up a hand to tweak my chin and I feel this thrill run up my spine, thinking of all the quiet little gestures like this I’ll get to have with him now. “I start next week.”

I didn’t think I could get even giddier than I already was, but the smile on my face is threatening to burst. “Milo. Congratulations,” I say, leaning into him again. “You’re going to knock their socks off.”

“We’ll see about that,” says Milo. “But between the internship and starting the broadcast program here, it does mean my schedule’s going to take a hit.”