Blake walked. And walked. And walked some more. Her brain was in overdrive, and she couldn’t sort through her thoughts enough to get any clarity. She was thankful she’d at least been able to stave off a panic attack. God, I’m such a mess.

She eventually found herself standing in front of a park entrance and turned in. She found a bench across from a fountain and sat down, staring at the water as it cascaded from the top tiers. A little girl was standing beside it, throwing change into the water and giggling as her father smiled at her and kept feeding her coins.

It was a Kodak moment if Blake had ever seen one, and it made her want to hurl rocks at them both. Of course, she never would. Despite Gavin thinking she was certifiable, she wouldn’t actually hurt anyone.

Except evidently him.

There was no doubt about it—Blake knew that her reaction had hurt Gavin. It probably seemed completely over the top to him. No normal person would go ballistic over a cute picture with her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Was that really how she thought of Gavin? When had that happened?

Despite the walls she’d built to fortify her for a lifetime, Gavin had managed to sneak inside. She hadn’t even realized she’d been under siege until she’d seen that picture. And by then it was too late. He was already in, burrowing his way into her like a fucking virus. Even when he left, there would always be a trace of him there. And that…really fucking sucked.

Blake had a lot of issues, but being delusional wasn’t one of them. She knew she came with an expiration date. Eventually, she started to grate on people until the relationship went bad and needed to be trashed. Some people had a higher tolerance than others, but the end result was always the same. Why put herself—and him—through that?

She’d warned him. She’d fucking warned him, and the stupid jerk hadn’t listened, and now she was mentally berating herself as she scowled at the happiness of a four-year-old because she had reached that level of fucked up. The one thing Blake had always had going for her was that she was unequivocally and unapologetically herself.

So why the hell was she sitting on a bench and wondering who the hell she even was?

Or maybe that wasn’t accurate. She wondered who she wanted to be. And maybe to answer that, she had to face some harsh truths.

The first was that she’d lied about Celeste. Blake wouldn’t be even remotely okay if Celeste stopped talking to her. Maybe Blake had been able to keep the illusion that their lives weren’t intertwined, but the truth was the two of them were like sisters. Losing that would cut deep, and Blake knew she’d do everything in her power to make sure that never happened.

Which begged the question, if she was willing to do that for Celeste, why wasn’t she willing to do it for Gavin?

There were reasonable explanations. She hadn’t known Gavin as long, so the trust wasn’t as ingrained. The nature of their relationship was different since Blake had no interest in seeing Celeste naked, and Celeste was pretty similar to Blake. Gavin was so different. Reserved and kind and gentle and normal. Though he seemed to like Blake a hell of a lot, so maybe he wasn’t completely normal.

The other truth she needed to face was that, even though she tried to pretend otherwise, Blake longed for human connections. She was lonely—had been for most of her life, though she wasn’t sure she realized how much until Gavin came along. Gavin had filled a lot of that void. It would be easy to depend on that, and Blake didn’t do dependence. That had gotten her hurt more than almost anything else in her life.

But as she took stock of the ache in her chest and the gritty feeling in her throat, she wondered if it could really hurt any more than it did after walking out on Gavin.

Gavin.

At the thought of his name, an image popped into her mind. His blond hair that he sometimes let grow out a little too long so it curled around his ears, his square jaw that always looked biteable in the mornings when stubble dotted it, his solid frame that enveloped her and made her feel safe.

A few stray tears escaped Blake’s eyes as the realization hit her. It didn’t matter if she never saw another picture of Gavin in her entire life. His likeness was imprinted on her brain. And it would always be there for the insanely complicated fact that she loved him. She’d probably started falling a little bit in love with him that very first day she’d met him, and it had only grown stronger with every day that had passed since.

And as she continued to sit and watch the water, Blake faced the last truth she needed to confront. She was really fucking dumb.

* * *

Gavin stared at his phone, wondering if he should call her or not. He wanted to make sure she was okay, but would hearing from him only keep her away longer? The more time that passed, the more pissed off he got. All this because of a picture. And while he knew it was more than that, deeper, it still irked him that she hadn’t even given him a chance to be her friend. If she didn’t want more, he’d figure out how to deal with it. But she could’ve at least been a fucking adult and talked to him about it instead of running away and making him worry.

When he finally heard the door open a few hours after she’d left, he’d worked himself into such a tizzy he nearly leaped off the couch and rushed to confront her. But he needed to keep a calm head. Freaking out wouldn’t do the situation any good.

He sat still and waited to see what she was going to do. It took her a minute to come toward him, and when she did so, her gait was slow but steady. They looked at one another for a long moment before she spoke. “So I may have overreacted.”

Air whooshed out of him. “Ya think?”

One side of her mouth tilted up slightly. “I never claimed to be rational.”

No, no, she didn’t.

She stood there and fidgeted with her hands before crossing them. “I’m sorry I said all that stuff.”

“I’m not,” he countered, which caused surprise to flash across her face. “I needed to hear it. Even if we’re never more than friends, I still want to know you, Blake. I want to understand.”

She snorted. “That’s a really tall order.”

Gavin smiled. “Kind of like a grande quad nonfat one-pump no-whip mocha latte?”

That caused her to laugh loudly. “That drink is going to haunt me forever, isn’t it?”

Standing slowly, Gavin took measured steps toward her. “Probably. Because I plan to be in your life forever, however you decide to have me.”

A smirk started forming on her mouth. “There are lots of ways I want to have you.”

That sounded…promising. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Blake let out a breath. “I’ve forced myself to be okay for so long that I never stopped to ask myself if I was actually happy. And I wasn’t. Not until you. And I’m scared to death of losing that, Gavin, but I’m even more afraid of never having it at all.”

That was everything he’d needed to hear. Reaching up, he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You make me happy too.”

“I can’t promise I won’t freak out ever again.”

“Just don’t run. If you’re freaking out, then we’ll deal with it. But I can’t handle not knowing if you’re okay.”

She leaned toward him, and their arms wrapped around each other. “You’re too good for me. You know that, right?”

“I think we’re good together. Perfect even.”

They stood there for a while, and Gavin relished the closeness.

Blake was the first to pull away. “So where’s the picture? I want to hang it back up.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, I want to. I need to. I have to work on my issues. Especially the ones that don’t make any sense.”

Gavin wanted to argue that her issues made total sense, but there was a more concerning problem to deal with first. “I…kind of threw it out.”

“What? Why would you do that? I love that picture.”

Gavin couldn’t help but laugh. “There is literally no one else in the world like you. You know that?”

“Yes, thank God. Now which trash can did you throw it out in?” She didn’t wait for him to respond before she went into the kitchen and took the lid off the trash can. A second later, she was back with the frame. She walked over to the hook he’d nailed into place earlier and rehung it. “There. Perfect. Just like you said.” Standing in front of the picture, Blake didn’t take her eyes off it.

Gavin went to her and slid his hands around her waist as he pressed against her back. “Definitely perfect.”

“You look like you love me in that picture,” she said, her voice low and clearly fishing.

“That’s how I look, huh?”

“Yup.”

Gavin squeezed her a little tighter. “And how do you look?”

Nestling back into him, Blake relaxed her head against his chest. “Like I love you back.”

Gavin had spent a lot of his life wondering if he was doing the right things. But there, in that moment with Blake, he was confident he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing exactly what he was supposed to be doing—loving this girl, his girl, with every fiber of his being. And being loved in return.