Last Call at the Local (Love, Lists & Fancy Ships, #3)

by Sarah Grunder Ruiz

I’m done letting the thoughts ruin a moment I’ve been dreaming of for weeks. Done asking her to reassure me through every little fucking thing. I’m done feeling out of control, when all I want is to take it. I want to make her feel like she’s mine, even if I have to let her go sooner than I’d like. I want her to belong to me, at least right here and now. When she’s in Timbuktu or some other place I’ll never go, I want her to think of me, and when she does, I want this to be what she thinks of first. When she’s with someone else, I want her to be chasing the way I made her feel.

Being with Jack reminds me of my very favorite days. Perfect ones with perfect weather. When I look up at him, his arms loosely wrapped around my waist, it feels like tilting my face up to the sun, like standing in the middle of a new city that somehow feels like home.