“But all the damages are worth it. They’re but a small price. I wish I lived in the moment like you do.” He took his hands out of his pockets and stepped closer, and his palms slid over my cheeks. “You have no idea how much I admire that about you.”
“Colin.” I looked up at his handsome face and wasn’t sure any compliment had ever meant that much to me in my entire life. “Are you saying that I’m your hero? That I’m the wind beneath your—”
He stopped my words with a kiss, one of his Colin specials that left me grasping at his shirt while he reminded me how good it’d been with us. As if I needed reminding. He lifted his lips just long enough to say against mine, “Say it again.”
I felt like my heart was going to burst. “I love you.”
He grinned down at me. “Again.”
“I love you, Colin Beck.”
“I love you, too, Marshall.” He cupped my face and gave me the sweetest, hottest kiss, the kind of kiss that wrapped itself around you and made you feel foolishly, deliciously, unbearably loved. I let myself sink into it, no longer afraid.
I wanted to dive into every fathomless ocean with him.
And even after the smoke alarms started wailing because I passionately slammed Colin against the fire panel, he didn’t stop kissing the holy hell out of me.
Epilogue
Olivia
TWO WEEKS LATER
Mr. Wrong Number: Did you know that I picture you naked like 24/7? I can’t stop myself. It’s becoming problematic.
I laughed and pulled the blanket up under my arms. I texted: Same. The other day I think your mother saw me staring right at your . . .
Mr. Wrong Number: Yes, baby, say it.
My breath caught, and I almost dropped the phone as I giggled. I rolled over so I was facing him and typed: You want me to text it? Or would you rather have me whisper it?
“Whisper. Now.” Colin held out his hand for my phone, an eyebrow raised and an intriguing look in his eyes.
Instead of handing it over, I tossed it onto the floor and said, “I keep telling Mr. Wrong Number I don’t need him anymore but he just won’t let me go.”
He tossed his phone beside mine and rolled on top of me. “Can you blame him? When you find your perfect Misdial, you can’t let her go.”
I felt his words pulse through my veins like thick honey. I whispered, “I love you, Mr. Wrong Number.”
Colin kissed the tip of my nose. “I love you, too, Miss Misdial.”
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, thank you to everyone who has picked up this book. This is my dream come true, this book in your hands, and I’m eternally grateful for the part you’ve played in my happily-ever-after. Thank you, thank you, thank you, and if I’m ever in your neighborhood, I’ll be happy to walk your dog; I owe you one, after all.
Endless piles of gratitude go to Kim Lionetti, my agent extraordinaire. You were with me when the first book didn’t sell, you were with me when the next one did, and you were with me when I got pulled over by the Utah Highway Patrol, texting me about offers while the dude went back to his cruiser to write my ticket. I’m beyond blessed to have you and BookEnds in my corner.
Thank you to Angela Kim, my incredible editor. From that first phone call, I knew you were the perfect person for this book, and working with you has been an absolute joy. I’m so excited—and grateful—that I get to do more books with you! （Insert cartwheels.）
Thanks to everyone at Berkley PRH; this entire process has been a pleasure. An extra-special thanks to Nathan Burton for creating such a stunning cover.
Also—Tom Colgan’s plague journals deserve all the literary awards. Just sayin’ . . .
To the Berkletes—especially India, Courtney, Amy, Lyn, Sarah ZJ, Sarah Bruhbruh, Joanna, Nekesa, Ali, Elizabeth, Libby, Alanna, Amanda, Mia, Freya, Eliza, Lauren, and Olivia—you guys are everything. I’ve heard authors give the writerly advice to “find your people,” but I always assumed that excluded this awkward dork right here who doesn’t make friends easily. Yet here I am, colluding with this super group of incredibly talented humans whom I consider to be some of my closest friends. How did that happen? Thank you for inviting me into your hilariously wonderful circle and making me cackle at my computer on a daily basis. （Also see knotting, hands, bad Chris）
A HUGE thanks to the Bookstagram community for your kindness and your willingness to help a noob like me. I am in awe of your voracious appetite for books and your remarkable organizational skills. I still don’t understand how authors are lucky enough to have you; we’re not worthy （Wayne-and-Garth style）。 A special scream to the delightful Love Arctually gang, all of whom I want to be my besties.