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WHEN TREVOR’S SOFT, pillowy lips settle against mine, my soul exits my body.
His horrified eyes fuse with mine. Lips parted ever so slightly. Head tilted like a dog. Expression of pure anguish, as if that was the single worst moment of his entire life.
A sigh that sounds like relief escapes his lips. “If there’s anyone in this world I want to try for, it’s you,” he whispers.
Love has the power to strip you raw, to the bone. And that’s the beauty of it. There’s an immeasurable bravery in opening your heart and baring your soul when all hope is seemingly lost.
I want to do literally anything as long as it means being with you, because I am so in love with you, I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“Are you sure you know what you signed up for? Me, all over you, talking in your ear, forever and ever? Swooning over the other fictional men in my life?” “I can’t imagine a future more perfect than that,” he says without an ounce of hesitation. “As long as I’m your favorite hero in the end.”
He’s not just the hero of my dreams. He’s the hero beyond my wildest imagination. The best part? He’s nonfiction.
