I nearly jump into the hallway.

That's it. Research done. Projects done. Last final, done.

I stretch my arms over my head. Force my feet toward the door.

It's a gorgeous June day. The sun is high in the bright, cloudless sky. It bounces off the beige pavement and the silver signs. It bounces off the whites of my sneakers.

He knows today is my last day.

He knows I have to decide.

He knows this is his chance. Our chance.

I… uh… God. I plant on a concrete bench, press my knees together, suck the last drop of water from my bottle.

My cell fails to offer insights. My only text is from my Mom. My only emails are SPAM. My voicemail is empty.

The ball really is in his court this time.

All I can do is wait.

* * *

Every part of me goes warm at once.

He's sitting on the front steps. Holding two iced coffees.

He wouldn't bring iced coffees to dump me. Or maybe he would. Maybe those are consolation iced coffees. Maybe he's just that considerate.

My steps are shaky. Are my feet even on the ground? I'm not sure.

Walker pushes himself to his feet. He holds up the plastic glass on his right. "Two percent and extra sugar."

"Thanks." My fingers brush his as I take it. It's like the first time. It wakes up all my nerves. Sends a buzz all the way to my toes. "And the other one?"

"You want both?"

"I'm just asking."

His lips curl into a half smile. "You're greedy."

"You're… handsome."

His laugh lights up his dark eyes. "Good one."

"You try flinging good comebacks after staying up till four a.m. studying." I move closer. Close enough to touch him, kiss him, hold him. "I, uh… you want to come in?"

"Yeah."

"Follow me." I take a long sip of my iced coffee. It's perfect. Exactly as sweet and creamy as I like it. But it's not helping pull me back to Earth.

I grab onto the railing to climb the stairs. Okay. This is easy. Just a dozen steps to my apartment. I place one foot in front of the other. I do it again. Again.

It takes every bit of my focus, but I get to my apartment, dig my keys from my backpack, and unlock the door.

Walker presses it open. "After you."

"Thanks." I step inside.

He follows. Closes the door.

He lets out a chuckle as he looks around the room. "I can see where your priorities lie."

I keep my back to him. Pull my arm over my chest. "Cleaning isn't my thing."

"It looks good. Lived in."

"Lived in, maybe. But not good."

He laughs. "Not good." His fingers brush the back of my hand. "You're shaking."

"Yeah."

"Because of me?"

"Yeah." I suck coffee though the straw. "I, uh, can I get you anything?"

"You could turn around."

I shake my head. "I'm not sure about that."

"No?"

"What if I know it's over from the look on your face? I can't deal with that."

He laughs. "You sound sleep-deprived."

"I am."

"I'll promise to smile."

"You could tell me."

"I will. But I need you to look at me first."

I shake my head.

His fingers curl around my wrist. "I can come around."

"I can turn."

"I can run faster."

"Don't be so sure. I've been working out."

"Running?"

"No. But, I, uh… tell me. Please." I suck more iced coffee from my straw.

His voice gets soft. "I will." He tugs on my wrist gently. "After you look at me."

Slowly, I turn to face him.

He really is a sight for sore eyes. His dark hair is hanging in loose waves. His brow is soft. His dark eyes are full of joy.

This is good news. It has to be.

His sets his coffee on my counter then brings his hands to mine. Slowly, he unfurls my fingers, and sets my cup on the counter.

"That's especially cruel." I try to make my words teasing, but they don't land. It is cruel, taking away my one comfort. My one distraction. Staring at me with all that affection in his dark eyes if this is…

I swallow hard. I can't think that. Not yet.

His hands go to his jeans. He undoes the button.

My brow furrows. "What the—"

He laughs. "Give me a second." He turns and pulls his jeans down his hip. Then his boxers.

There's a flash of something on his hip. Purple, green, black. But his shirt is in the way.

Slowly, he lifts his shirt.

My eyes go wide.

My jaw hits the floor.

That's… he… I…

"I've never seen you speechless." His voice is confident. Cocky even. But there's more to it. Pride. Affection. Everything.

"I, you, uh… Can I?"

"Yeah."

I trace the black lines. They're beautiful. Perfect. The flower is in full bloom, unfurling, inviting everyone.

A purple iris.

"I… I…" I trace the outline again. His skin is soft and he's so warm. So close. So mine.

He's really mine.

This means he's mine.

I trace it again and again. "You…"

He nods. "I…"

"But…"

"I told you, when I want something, I take it."

"But you didn't have to." I stare into his dark eyes. "You already have me."

He slides his arms around my waist. "Can't be too careful."

"But, I, uh… I thought you… you didn't trust me."

"I didn't know if I could."

"But you… I thought you didn't want to be with an addict."

"I didn't." He brushes my hair behind my ear. "I kept trying to find a way to convince myself to hate you. But I couldn't. I kept thinking of that sad, scared girl desperate for comfort. I kept thinking of the way you looked at me that day we went surfing."

"I wanted to tell you."

"I know. And I stopped you. I knew it was something big, and I stopped you."

I nod.

"I wanted to believe there was nothing ugly in your past. That you didn't have any baggage or ugly parts or secrets. I wanted to believe it didn't matter. That I was over everything with Bree. But I wasn't. I'm not. I'm not gonna lie to you, Iris. It's gonna be hard for me at first. I'm gonna be terrified you'll slip."

"I worry too."

"I'm gonna go out of my fucking mind every time I'm not sure what you're thinking or where you are. But I'm going to get over it. It's gonna take a long time, but I am going to get over it."

"Okay." I press my palm against his chest. "I have to figure it out too. How to be honest with someone. How to share the ugly things."

"I want to be there to help you."

"I want you to be there."

His fingers dig into my hair. "I love you, Iris Avery."

"I love you too."

He pulls me closer.

And he kisses me like he's sure I'm his.

I am.

And he's mine.

And it really is perfect.