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“No, Lucy. Beautiful women don’t tend to tell me they’re wide open while I’m holding a sharp object.”
Felix can say my name a thousand different ways. A Lucy that vibrates in the back of his throat, gritty with desire. A Lucy that sounds like sun showers. A Lucy of smug amusement. A Lucy that’s more a sigh of relief than a name. A Lucy that’s all awe and wonder. This Lucy is a gentle command.
I am here now, and everything is okay.
This is Lucy’s happy ending.
“They’re pulled together,” Felix says, voice low, eyes latched on to mine. “They can’t help it.”
“Well, it’s not fun for me anymore.”
You mean so much to me that I can’t think, can’t even breathe properly, when we’re together.”
“You feel like you were made for me.”
“I’m not good at this. I’m not good at more.” Felix lifts his head, bringing his eyes to mine. Steady. “I am.”
“You and me—we’re very good at this, but we’re more than this.”
“Felix, I brought you here to tell you that you are in every one of my dreams. I came here to ask whether I’m in any of yours, too.”
“All of my dreams, Lucy. Every single one.”
Our friendship is how I learned to compromise. It’s how I learned that the families we make are as significant as the ones we’re born into. It’s how I learned that the greatest loves are not always romances.”
