“I love you,” I gasped.
His hands settled on my hips. “Say that again.”
“I love you.”
“One more time.”
My lips curled up. “I love you, Dez.”
And that’s all I said. Dez kissed me, and that kiss—that kiss scorched me. It was everything that I felt given back to me. His hands slid up my back and our lips parted just enough for him to say my name and I knew the sound of it would stay with me to the end of my days.
We ended up on the bed, our limbs tangled together, our hearts pounding in our chests. I didn’t tell him yes. He didn’t ask. It didn’t need to be spoken. Because I had been his and he had been mine all along, and one day we would make that lifelong promise to each other. When we were both ready. And while that was bucking tradition, neither of us cared. Because right now, as his lips moved against mine and he pressed me closer to his body, I felt the way I did when I flew over the mountains back home. During the precious seconds when I was free-falling and there was nothing but that rushing sensation, of not being able to form a thought or breathe. In Dez’s arms, I had found what I’d been searching for every night I took to the sky.
I was free.
I was home.