Daydream (Maple Hills, #3)

by Hannah Grace

She looks so beautiful; I wish I could capture her right now, but even with a paintbrush or pencil in my hand, I fear I wouldn’t do her justice. I wonder if she’d believe me if I told her. She should be told. She should hear it every single day, but would she like it if I was the one saying it to her?

There’s a moment when our breathing synchronizes and our eyes meet that I think maybe Henry Turner would be an experience I wouldn’t survive. That having him talk about me the way he talks about Joy could devastate me beyond repair.

“It’s more like having a farm next to a highway and all the animals keep escaping.”

“You’re not a ray of sunshine,” he says casually, lifting his legs to rest on the couch to mirror me. “You’re the period of calm after a storm or, like, I don’t know, a well-fed panda.”