Page 48 of Let Me In

I kiss him back.

Because how could I not?

Because maybe the real miracle isn’t that he’s here, or that he wants me—but that he keeps finding new ways to show it.

He pulls back first, barely a breath’s distance, like he’s checking in. Like he’s making sure I’m still okay. That I still want this.

And when I lean in again, just the smallest tilt of my head toward him—he lets out a breath like relief and kisses me one more time.

This one even softer.

Even slower.

Like the quiet hush of a promise, sealed in warmth and breath.

We pull apart after that, but only just. My head finds its way back under his chin, and I feel the strength of his arms around me like a promise.

He doesn’t speak.

He just holds me tighter. Like I belong there. Like I always did.

And on the screen, Wesley whispers, “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

I close my eyes. Press my cheek to his chest.

And try to believe that maybe—just maybe—that could be true.

It doesn’t feel real.

His arms around me. The blanket. The movie still playing like a lullaby in the background.

The kiss.

I keep my eyes closed, head tucked under his chin, and just… listen. To the rise and fall of his breath. To the steady beat of his heart. To the warmth of him, wrapped around me like something I didn’t know I was allowed to want.

I don’t know when my breathing slows. When my thoughts quiet. When the heaviness behind my eyes finally wins.

But I fall asleep there.

In his arms.

And for the first time in forever, I don’t feel the need to plan an exit.

15

CAL

She sleeps.

On me.

Like it’s nothing. Like the shape of her fits against me in a way that quiets everything else. Like my body was built to hold her there. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe it should be. Maybe this—her head on my chest, her whole body curled soft and trusting across my lap—isn’t a miracle at all.

But it feels like one.

An ex-operative with too many ghosts in his blood… lulling a girl like her to sleep with nothing but steady hands and a quiet film?

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