That night’s evening kiss tastes sweeter and lasts a whole lot longer than any before it. We’re in my truck outside Malcolm’s apartment building, engine rumbling against the cold. We’ve done a good job of fogging up most of the windows.
He cups my cheek, fingers threading into my hair. “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“After today? Your parents? I thought you might be feeling ... sad.”
“I never really knew them. My grandmother raised me, and I miss her. I’m curious, and skeptical, but really, if it means banishing Orson and Carter from Springside, I’d be fine with never knowing.”
He pulls me close for another kiss. “You’re something else, you know that?”
I smile against his lips, my entire face on fire with a blush I suspect not even the dark can hide.
“Hey,” he adds, voice low. “I
