Always (Indigo Falls #1)

by Loren Leigh

“To me,” he says quietly, “it feels like I’m the most obvious person in the world. I leave you Post-its because I selfishly want you to think about me.”

“And I text you because every one of those pictures you send feels like it breathes life into me. I walked with you to the willow because I want every second I can get with you. Even if it fucks up my head a bit, even if I know that it’s crossing a line.”

“I followed you back here because I wanted to see how you are since I know you had a difficult night. And also, selfishly again, because I imagined shoving you up against the bookshelf and kissing the fuck out of you, even if I’m pretty sure that won’t ever happen. Even if I’ve imagined doing just that ever since that first time I saw you on the Quad.”

“I could explain to you all the years of our history.” His voice is soft and warm and full of so much emotion that it hits me low in the gut. “I could tell you about the treehouse and the telescope, the way that this man lives in my soul, that first moment I saw him on the Quad five years ago, how he’s my constant, how he fills me up. But you can see all that because it’s spread out on the table before you. It speaks for itself. So, ‘how long has it been going on?’ I’ll just distill it down to one word.” His eyes warm to a light gray. “Always.”

“You’re my universal constant. Something that will never change.” That genuine smile expands over his face, the one I’ll never get tired of. “I love you to the depth of my ability to love.” I laugh. “Shit, that was a good ‘I love you’.” “It’s my first.” His smile falls as he tips forward, his forehead pressing against mine. “If you want to hear it simpler, then here it is: I love you too. Always.”