“Wait, wait.” I eased away from him a little, thinking. “Does this mean I’m literally the girl of your dreams?” He scrunched his nose. “Wouldn’t that be a bit cliché?” “You’re right, you’d probably flag it for being too unrealistic.” “Especially considering one of us thinks love is dead,” he agreed. “Okay, to be fair, you were mostly dead.” I ran my fingers across his face, his stubbly jaw and red scar, and twined into his raven-soft hair. “But you aren’t anymore, and I was wrong.” “I’m glad you were,” he agreed, and bent his head down to kiss me again. His stubble brushed across my cheek,
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