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Here's to Us(What If It's Us #2)(109)

Author:Adam Silvera Becky Albertalli

“You’re—” I press my fist to my mouth. “I’m going to cry.”

“You’re already crying. Literally right now.” He lets out a choked laugh, grabbing my hands to pull me closer. Then he presses his lips to my forehead, leaving them there just long enough to turn me to liquid. “I love you. Te amo. I’m not moving. I ended things with Mario. Can I kiss you?” His eyes are wet. “Please?”

My hands are cupping his face before he even finishes talking.

I thought I remembered this feeling, but I must have remembered through glass. Because I wouldn’t have survived the full force of not having this. Ben wraps me in and pulls me closer, hands pressed flat on my back and all I can think is Oh. Right. This.

This. The way he has to lean down to kiss me, how I have to tilt my head up like I’m looking at stars. I thread my hands through his hair, all these strands I haven’t met before. Two years of haircuts, new skin cells, new freckles. So many updates to download.

He kisses my temple. “Remind me why this took us so long.”

“Because we’re dumbasses who can’t see what’s right in front of us?”

Our lips are so close, I can feel the warmth of his breath when he laughs. “This doesn’t even feel real. It’s like I’m watching myself in a movie.”

“You mean Arthur and Ben Reloaded?” I ask. “The Revenge of Arthur and Ben. Ben and Arthur—”

“That one actually exists,” Ben says.

“Yeah, but what about Ben and Arthur, All Night Long?”

“Sounds like an amateur porn spin-off—”

I kiss him again and he kisses me back, and suddenly I can’t tell whose tongue is where, whose mouth is what. I step back, leaning against the building’s back wall, pulling him along with me until there’s no space between us. His lips find mine again without missing a beat, and I think, Yup, this.

“I love you,” I say. “Did I say that yet? I love you, too. Te amo very much.”

“Te amo mucho.” The look on his face is so earnestly smitten, it leaves me short-winded.

“Te amo mucho,” I say, wishing I still knew Hebrew, wishing I could say it in every language on earth. The words tumble out so easily when it comes to him, like being in love with Ben is just part of my infrastructure.

“What’s wild is that you knew,” he says suddenly. “From day one.”

“I knew we’d make out behind my place of employment?”

“You knew the universe wasn’t an asshole.”

“Oh, no kidding. You know what day it is, right?”

“Thursday? July—” He stops short. “Holy shit.”

“To the day. You can’t tell me that’s not the universe.”

“The fucking universe. Wow.” He lets out a laugh, short and breathless.

I smile up at him smugly. “Guess we saw how it played out.”

“We were a basic-bitch love story all along.” He ruffles my hair, and I laugh, but I’m also sort of buzzing.

And then we both speak at once.

“Okay, you know what—”

“Do you want to, like—” He cuts himself off, grabs my hands, threads our fingers together. “You first.”

“No, sorry, it’s fine. I was just wondering if you want to go somewhere. Like. Not behind a theater.” I look up at him. “What were you going to say?”

“Literally that.” He laughs. “Want to come over? My parents are out. Or, you know, they better be. If I tell them I’m bringing you home, I bet they’d clear out for us.”

Us. I’ll never, ever get tired of hearing that word on Ben’s lips.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Ben

Thursday, July 9

The universe has finally given me a win.

The win.

Arthur and I waste no time making our way to House Alejo. We’re holding hands the entire time, even on the subway despite that scary episode two years ago. If anyone is giving us dirty looks we’ll never know, because our eyes are locked on each other as if we haven’t seen each other since we broke up. There’s some truth to that. For the first time since we said goodbye, we get to be us again.

This story hasn’t been easy.

The meet-cute at the post office led to us searching for each other.

We kept trying to make our dates perfect when perfection is a myth.

Our breakup should’ve kept us apart, but we were virtually inseparable.

We reach House Alejo, and my parents are mercifully still not home. I practically drag Arthur to my bedroom like we’re in my book and outrunning some wicked wizards. I bump into boxes, knocking them over. Not concerned, since there’s only clothes in there, but I would throw my laptop across the room right now if it were in our way.