“Are you okay?” I asked, turning to face him. I didn’t want to talk about Dale anymore.

“Honestly? No,” he answered. His bright green eyes were tinged a sort of aqua with the blue of the sky playing in them. “But I think I will be. I’m more worried about you at the moment.”

“Me?”

He nodded.

“I’m fine. Shaken up was my diagnosis,” I joked. Rhodes didn’t return my smile.

“What happened to you tonight was serious, Natalie.”

“It didn’t happen. You saved me.”

He swallowed. “Even still. I wasn’t there to stop him from hitting you, or saying what I can only imagine were words you’ll never forget.”

An ache squeezed around my heart and I clutched at the fabric of my tank top. Rhodes pulled me into him, kissing my hair.

“I think I’ll be okay, too.” I finally whispered into his chest.

“Maybe we both will be.”

I sniffed. “Are you really leaving?”

Rhodes sighed, tilting my chin up to look into my eyes. “Not without you.”

He captured my lips with his own, promises dancing between us in the morning light. I tangled my fingers in his hair and he held me tighter, deepening our kiss. Neither of us had any idea where we went from that moment, but finally, and without any doubt, we knew we’d never face whatever it was without the other.

“I love you,” he whispered against my lips. “I don’t want you to think I’m just saying it now because of what happened tonight. I’ve felt it for weeks, maybe longer. I should have said it when you did, or hell, before then. You said it hit you all at once, but I felt every single inch of the fall. I tried so hard to fight it, to not let myself be selfish enough to love you knowing who I am and what I’m capable of.”

“Stop,” I breathed, kissing him again. “I know. You never had to say it.”

He frowned, his eyes on mine. “Well now I’m never going to stop.”

I smiled against his mouth as he kissed me again, harder this time, with promise and purpose, greed and carefulness. His brows knitted together, and I wondered if he’d ever be able to kiss me without feeling like he didn’t deserve to.

“I love you too, William,” I said softly. He pulled back, his eyes questioning the name. He opened his mouth to argue, but after a pause, simply closed it once more. Because he knew then what I had known all along.

He was my resolute protector now.

Sliding his hand into mine, he pressed two fingers firmly against my inner wrist. I felt my heartbeat pound beneath his touch and I moved my own fingers to mirror his. My heart was racing, but his was slow and steady. Soon, they evened out, beating as one together. William pressed his forehead to mine and I inhaled the first breath of my new life.

That summer had changed me in more ways than I could even understand. I had challenged myself and found strength I didn’t know I had. I’d taken risks, risks that lead to a passion and love unlike anything I’d experienced before. And yes, I had lost an innocence that up until that point had played a huge role in who I was.

But in the end, I’d emerged on the other side of summer ready to shed my leaves along with the fall trees. The truth was William had brought a sleeping giant to life. I felt a new me — a better me — waiting just below the surface for her chance to shine in the spring. I didn’t shield my eyes as the morning light grew brighter and brighter on the beach around us. I simply held on tighter to the one person whose darkness offered the perfect balance.

The sun was rising.

And we were rising with it.

TWO YEARS LATER

I smoothed my hands down the thin black fabric of my dress, turning to inspect myself in the mirror once more. My new, shorter, brighter blonde hair was slightly curled and it framed my face at the chin. There were no lumps showing beneath the tight dress, still I stretched it and smoothed it over and over again.

“You look perfect.” William’s deep voice echoed through our bedroom as he slid up behind me, wrapping his arms around my middle.

“I think it’s too small.”

A smirk curved on his lips. “Just because it’s a single digit doesn’t mean it’s too small, Bug.” He kissed my temple and I turned in his arms, running my hands up his biceps currently covered by a blazer.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to a size eight. I guess I have you to thank for that.”

“Don’t thank me,” he said, kissing my nose. “Thank the squats.”

I giggled.

“Ready?”

Licking my lower lip, I slid my hands down his chest and hooked them into the band of his dress pants. He inhaled a stiff breath and I felt him grow hard through the fabric. “Are you sure we have to leave the house?”

He groaned, running his hands back through my hair and tugging it gently, forcing my face up to his. He pressed his lips against mine and bit the lower lip I’d just licked to tease him. “Go ahead. Tease me all you want tonight, Bug. Just remember that later when I pay you back.”

His words sent a jolt straight between my legs and my thighs tensed. William didn’t break the kiss, though — he deepened it, running his rough hands down the open back of my dress to firmly palm my ass. I moaned into his mouth and he finally pulled away, leaving me panting for more.

“Looking forward to it,” I said, breathless. I went to steal another kiss, but Zipper ran between our legs, tail wagging furiously, knocking both of us back a step.

“What do you say, Zip? You going to be good while we’re gone?”

Our rough-around-the-edges pit bull sat down quickly, planting his front feet and looking up at us with wide eyes and tongue flopped out. I rubbed the white spot on his head before leaning down to kiss his nose, to which he responded with a sneeze and another sprint through the house.

We rescued Zipper last Christmas and he’d been a part of our little dysfunctional family ever since. He was hyper, got into trouble more days than not, and I’d lost count of how many pairs of shoes had fallen victim to his chewing habit. Still, he reminded me a lot of Rhodes when we first met — people were scared of him, he seemed dangerous, but inside he was kind and caring and brave. One more week in the shelter and he would have been put down. Some say we saved him, but I think it might be the other way around. Where therapy failed over the last few months, Zipper succeeded.