Page 50 of She's My Kind of Girl

He shut the door, and she turned to look at him. “I don’t know yet.”

He furrowed his brow. “What happened?”

Did somebody hurt her? He’d kill anyone who hurt her. Okay, he needed to calm down. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans to keep from reaching for her.

She frowned. “This isn’t going how I expected.”

“I’m lost.” Because he was.

She sighed and opened her purse before taking out a small, gift-wrapped box and handing it to him. “This is for you.”

He took the package and looked up at her. “I didn’t get you anything.”

“I know.” She gestured to it. “Open it.”

He ripped open the package, trying to ignore the flutter of hope beating wildly in his chest. He tossed the paper to the floor, opened the box, and stared down at the contents. Confused, he shook his head. “It’s a cigarette butt.”

She gave him a shaky smile. “It’s yours, you flicked it into the grass the first day we met behind the school. I picked it up and kept it.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’ve had it all these years. I know most girls are sensible and keep cards or pressed flowers, but I don’t know, I kept this.”

Shocked, he blinked at her and sputtered on his next words. “You’ve been carrying around a used cigarette for all these years?”

“Yes, I have.” She brushed her hair from her cheek. “Even though I quit smoking years ago, sometimes when I missed you I’d put it to my lips or hold it between my fingers just to remember how you looked at me through the haze of smoke.”

He choked out a strangled laugh. “That’s disgusting.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t help myself.”

He met her gaze. “What does this mean?”

She sucked in her breath. “It means even though I know I can live without you, I don’t want to. It means I want to fight for our happiness. If you’ll have me.”

He put the box down on the table, walked over to her, and kissed her. The second his mouth touched hers it was like fire. He pulled back before he got lost in her and didn’t say all the things that needed to be said. He wrapped his hands around her neck and brushed his thumb over the line of her jaw. “I was ready to come get you.”

Her eyes brightened, turning a brilliant blue. “You were?”

“Yes.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “I don’t want to live without you, either. Even if I have to move to New York. I can’t give you up again.”

She clutched his arm and tears spilled over her cheeks. “I wasn’t wrong to leave. I needed to go. To find out who I was.”

“I know.” He held her close. “We’ll make it work.”

She shook her head. “You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me then.”

She blinked, rose to her tiptoes, and pressed close. “Back then I needed to leave. Now I need to come home. To Revival. To you.”

He kissed her hard before raising his head and saying against her lips, “Thank fucking God.”

“I love you, Griff.”

“I love you, Darcy.” He pulled back and searched her expression. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be happy.”

“I’m sure.” She sucked in a breath. “I knew as soon as I looked at you at that party, wearing that stupid tie, that I was lost. And I don’t want to recover.”

It was crazy, and too quick, and he didn’t care, he needed to ask. “I understand the smart, sensible thing here is to learn who we are and what our relationships will look like as adults, but fuck that. I let you go once and I can’t do it again. I’ve never been sensible or rational when it comes to you.”

She fluttered her lashes. “What are you saying?”

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