Page 121 of No Way Home
Bowen’s glare sharpened. “And don’t you forget it.” But there was a warmth in the way they were looking at each other that finally felt like the way things always should’ve been.
Bowen’s gaze shifted to me, smoldering, like he needed to be alone with me. Now.
Griffin winked. “Meet you back at the car.” Then he sauntered off, seeming perfectly fine. It was amazing what a year in the hot Arizona sun could do to heal a broken heart, I guess.
Bowen and I held back, eyes coming together, only to skitter to Griff’s retreating figure, then find each other again. But when the shadow of Newcomb Hall finally swallowed Griff, the leash on my heart snapped.
Bowen and I crashed into each other, tangled in a lung-crushing hug.
His hands smoothed over my hair, my back, my waist, as if checking me for injuries. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again. I told you I was choosingyou. Didn’t you believe me?”
I trapped his handsome face in my hands. “Yes. But I was afraid if?—”
“No buts,” he scolded. “It’s you and me from now on. No matter what. No more sacrificing our happiness for the happiness of others.Nothing gets in our wayever again.Nothing.”That disclaimer sounded all-encompassing, negating any reasons that may ever arise in the future. “Got it?”
I nodded, completely overwhelmed. It was the love I’d always wanted, from the man I’d always wanted it from. “Got it.” And then my hands were in his hair, tugging him closer, pulling his mouth to mine. When our lips met, the rush of peace I’d wanted to feel finally arrived.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Bowen and I found ourway back to each other in the end. My mom was the world’s best promise keeper and the ultimate believer in second, third, and 647th chances. I could no longer deny that nothing about Bowen and me was a coincidence.
A botched first date turns into his brother asking me out. My car breaks down, I'm hypothermic, and Bowen, of all people, rides up on his chariot—hunter green, Land Cruiser edition—to save me. We draw matching cards, forcing us to be Spartan Race partners. Scalpel to the hand, fake dating for the win, Charlie suckers me to Clean Slate. It was all there, undeniably simple, and unmistakably clear. Mom or God—probably both—shoved Bowen and me together over and over and over…
Making sure there wasno waywe got it wrong in the end.
A car horn honked in the distance—Bowen’s car horn. He smiled against my mouth. “Griffin.” But he kept kissing me anyway, taking his time.
Griffin honked again.
“James,” I said.
“James would want me to stay right here,” he murmured. “I promise.”
I giggled as his thumbs massaged the space below my ears, his tongue tracing over my top lip.
But when Griffin lay on the horn for a solid twenty seconds, Bowen groaned, “Fine.” He pecked me on the lips again. “Wah-hoo-wah,” he murmured, his eyes darting over my face like I was a priceless work of art.
I smiled, running a finger over his piercing scar. “I love you too.”
As we strolled hand in hand down the sidewalk on the campus of our alma mater, I glanced up at the cloudless sky and whispered a reverent, “Thank you.”
Chapter Forty-Three
BOWEN
When they tapered the sedatives,James didn’t wake up like they expected him to. Not that night or the next morning. By the following evening, he still hadn’t given us a single sign that he wanted to return. Not a groan, an eyelash flutter, not a single twitch.
Dad hovered by his bedside, unable to sit. Mom, on the other hand, was perfectly still, sitting in a chair next to his bed, holding his hand, head bowed.
The rest of us stood outside his room, watching him lie there, lifeless, through the glass.
Sophie held Willow in her arms. “I don’t think Mom’s stopped praying since they turned off the sedatives.”
“Nah,” Griffin said, hands at the back of his head. “She hasn’t stopped praying since the minute they got the call. Guarantee it.”
“I know I haven’t,” I said.
“Same,” Sophie and Griffin echoed.
Standing next to me, Magnolia squeezed my hand and gave me a sad smile.
