“I love you,” he whispered over my lips again. I held his face in my hands. God, I love you. And as I sucked in a breath, feeling him push inside me again, I knew what he was talking about all those days ago. The anger and fury and heat and need—years of it leading to this moment when we finally knew what we were and who we lived for. Red. Out of all the colors, I liked red the best.
