Krista Ritchie

Kiss the sky with me,” Connor whispers, a beautiful smile pulling his lips, “and don’t ever come down.”

He follows my gaze. “I won’t charge extra.”

His head jerks back in surprise. “You wouldn’t happen to be related to Rose Calloway?”

“I’ll always be yours. No distance or time apart will change that, Lily. You need to believe that.”

He opens his mouth, and I think he’s going to let me off the hook. He’s going to tell me that I can cheat on him and get a free pass. Instead, tears flow and he says, “Wait for me.” The words come out choked and pained. “I need you to wait for me.”

I open my mouth, wanting to express all of my feelings at once. I love you. I’ll wait for you! You’re my best friend and my soul mate and my lover. I’m so proud of you. Please…come back to me.

“We’ll pretend,” he tells me. “Come on, love.” He taps my ass. “Into the car.” I barely stumble on his frequent use of love. In middle school, I told him how I thought it was the sexist term of endearment. And even though British guys have claimed stake to it, Lo took it as his own.

but the only girlfriend Loren Hale will ever treat well is his bottle of bourbon.

“In this moment, I’m yours.”

“And as your boyfriend,” he murmurs, “I really hate to share.”