Move the Stars (Something in the Way, #3)

by Jessica Hawkins

The longer I was in her presence, the more certain I was I had only one option left—tilt the universe until she fell into my arms.

“I knew the second I put my lips on yours, I’d be in-fucking-capable of letting you go. That was why I could never do it before. Those nights we had . . . in the truck, on the lake, and the kitchen counter . . . once I crossed the line, there was no turning back for me. I could never just wake up the next morning and not have you as mine.”

“For so long, you’ve been perfect to me. Untouchable. Unblemished. Now I want to touch you, Lake. I want to blemish you. I don’t want you perfect anymore. I just want you.”

“I’ve always thought of you as mine, but now you will be for real. If you thought I was overprotective or possessive before, you have no idea how bad it can get. Are you ready for that?”

And finally, I got everything I’d ever wanted . . . to have Lake, to feel her from the inside out, to sleep with her in my arms.

I’m going to spend my lifetime making sure anyone who crosses your path knows you’re mine.

“Those early days I met you,” he said, his gaze distant, “it was more like you were the light of my life. Maybe you knew right away that you loved me, but I had to resist it, or I would’ve caused us a lot of problems. The trouble with that, though, is that I fell in love with you anyway.” Finally, he met my eyes again. “And because I fought it so hard, that love is deep and unshakeable. That’s how I know you’re the love of my life. That love is a part of me.”

“You can’t let me go, Lake.” I kept my nose in her hair, inhaling her. “I won’t be let go.”

“Who’s better for Lake than me?” I asked, my voice louder than I meant it. “Who’s going to take better care of her? Love her more than I do?” I flicked ash over the railing, my face hot. “You don’t know the half of it. Lake’s all that means anything to me. I can tell you without a doubt in my mind that nobody will love, protect, or care for her like I can. I’m the man for her. The only man.”

“I want to be where you are,” he said. “New York can be your dream home, but mine is you.”

“You know why that shade of blue is my favorite? Why I’ve loved it since a warm summer day in 1993? I don’t really have to tell you it’s your eyes. My Lake. You are my favorite color.”

Because you couldn’t move the stars—Manning and I were inevitable—and as I stood in awe of the infinite night sky, I thanked the heavens for that.