Chapter 14 #4

B-billions. “Did you just say bill⁠—”

A low, sultry beat fills the dim bar, and suddenly, the off-key candidate for worst singer ever has found his tune as he sings The Chainsmokers’ song “Closer,” featuring Halsey.

Except this time, he doesn’t suck. This time, his voice is a raspy, silvery tone that has no place on a karaoke stage.

And he dances. Freaking dances around me like I’m the stripper pole he’s about to mount.

But it’s the wicked gleam in his eye that tells me everything’s about to change.

His hand finds mine between verses.

When I look at him, really look at him, the bar fades away.

It’s just us. The music. The sexual energy that pumps through my veins in time with the beat of this impossible moment.

I open my mouth when it’s Halsey’s turn to sing, but unlike him, I wasn’t faking my off-key solo earlier. If anything, I’m even worse this time around. Still, Valen never releases my hand.

The song ends.

Chief whistles.

We don’t move.

“Clover—”

The front door opens, and a group of people rushes in out of the cold, laughing loudly.

The karaoke, the flirting, that was all innocent enough. Holding his hand is romantic. It’s…

Everyone leaves eventually.

I have to remember that. It’s for my own good—and his. He didn’t live through the loss of us, but I did. It’s not something I can survive a second time.

“I—I need air,” I say, my lungs squeezing tight, not allowing any oxygen to pass through.

Before I can blink, I’m moving because he’s pulling me toward the door with a familiar excitement shining in his eyes.

We burst out into the parking lot hand in hand.

“You were amazing, Clover. You did it. Twice.”

“It was easier with you by my side.” Everything seems easier with him by my side.

“I get that,” he says.

I shiver, and he gently tugs me closer to him. “It’s freezing out here.”

“Come here. I’ll warm you up.” He hugs me to his side, and I swallow a sigh.

“I feel like there’s the beginnings of a dirty joke in there somewhere.”

“Oh, I have one.”

Laughter lightens my soul. “What? No, you don’t.”

“I do. When I was in the hospital.” He pauses to look over my head. “It was hard. I remembered how to read, but not how to write. I knew I could walk, but not how to sit up. It was very…isolating.”

“I can imagine.” But I can’t. Not really. I’ve always been alone, but not like that. “How did you get through it, and what does it have to do with a dirty joke?”

The lines around his mouth and eyes fade away. “My cousins. They never allowed me to be alone. Not the entire time I was in that hospital. It got so bad that Aunt Vivi eventually made an enormous donation to the hospital just so they’d let them stay with me.”

“She sounds…great.”

“She was. And so were the boys. They each took on different roles. Grant became my tutor. Roman refused to treat me any differently and would heckle the hell out of me during my PT appointments. Chase, as you can imagine, was my biggest cheerleader.”

“And Sterling?”

“Yeah, then there’s Sterling. He watched and waited to see where he would fit in.

One night, he realized I was having nightmares and couldn’t get back to sleep.

The next night, he showed up with a list of at least a thousand different jokes.

When I woke up gasping for breath, he just started reciting them until he found one that made me laugh. ”

“You’re…lucky to have them, Valen.” If only things had turned out differently…

“I am,” he agrees. “And it’s because of Sterling that I have random jokes for every occasion.”

Laughter bubbles in the back of my throat.

“You ready for it?” He rubs his hands up and down my arms, the friction heating me against the cold fall air.

“Ready.”

He turns so we’re facing each other. “What’s the difference between a gentleman and a guy who wants to kiss you?”

“Ah…”

“A gentleman asks first.” He chuckles. “And remember, Sterling told me this joke, right before the asshole planted a wet kiss right on my cheek.”

I tip my head back, overcome by happiness that wants to burst free from the corners of my eyes. This is—this is everything I’ve needed. This moment. This man. This impossible, ridiculous, perfect⁠—

His lips press to mine, and my eyes snap open.

The world stops.

The kiss isn’t smooth. It’s not practiced. It’s just…necessary. Like breathing. Like coming home.

He pulls back to whisper against my lips. “I guess I’m not a gentleman either, but I remember this. The taste of you. The feel of you.”

And I know—I know—his body is giving back what his mind took away.

Panic and fear collide, attempting to build walls in my mind, freezing me for one second, two, three.

Then I’m kissing him back with every ounce of love and sadness and loss that I’ve kept buried for over a decade.

My hands fist in his hair as though I’m afraid he’ll disappear. It’s teeth and lips and tongue. The ever-present coldness that fills my body evaporates as every inch of me heats to unnatural temperatures. Everything I’ve been fighting, hiding from, or pushing away is forgotten.

Everything except this.

Him and me.