“Why?” Another push-up.

   “Because I’m getting tired, and I want to cuddle for a bit before I fall asleep.”

   Another push-up. “I’m a man. I don’t cuddle.”

   She laughed at that and ran her fingers through her hair. It hung loose and still a little wet from her shower.

   And then I noticed something I’d never noticed before. Her hair was darker at the roots. My eyes squinted, trying to get a better look, but she moved quickly and sat up on the bed, legs crossed. “Drop and give me twenty more, Hunter!” she commanded, her finger pointed at me. Her fake glare was too fucking cute. I gave her twenty more, never once taking my eyes off her. I watched as the amusement left her eyes and was replaced with something else. Want. Need.

   She mumbled something under her breath before getting between the sheets. I got up, switched the light off, and joined her. “I always thought you were a natural blonde?”

   She tensed in my arms. “Is it bad? Is it really noticeable?”

   “No,” I said quickly. “I just noticed when you were running your fingers through it before. It’s not bad or obvious. I just thought I would’ve noticed earlier.”

   “Oh,” she said, but she seemed uncomfortable.

   “There’s nothing wrong with you dying your hair, Chloe. Heaps of girls do it.”

   “I know,” she sighed. But something was wrong—maybe I’d offended her.

   Reaching over her, I turned on the lamp on the nightstand. “Did I say something?”

   She shook her head but refused to look at me.

   I laid my head on her pillow so we were close enough that she had no choice. “I’m sorry if I said something wrong. It’s not like I care that you dye it.”

   “I know. But I don’t want you to think I’m vain and care about—”

   “Chloe, you’re the least vain person I’ve ever met. Personally, I think you’d look just as beautiful with darker hair or blonde hair or no damn hair at all.”

   She smiled. “I was born blonde. I’ve been blonde most of my life, but the last few years my hair started getting darker.” She pressed her lips softly against mine, kissing me once. “My mom was blonde,” she croaked. “I felt like I was losing a part of her when it started to get darker. I liked having that connection—something we both shared, even after she was gone.”

   Blake

   “I miss my mama,” I told her.

   She pouted. “You wanna go home and see your mama?”

   “No.” It was my turn to pout. “I don’t want to go home. There’s nothing there. But I wouldn’t mind seeing her. I honestly do miss her.”

   “You want to call her? Ask her to meet us here? I’m sure she’d come in a heartbeat. It’s only a couple hours’ drive.”

   “No. I feel like I’m hijacking this.”

   Her eyebrows quirked. “This?”

   “The Road.”

   She laughed. “Don’t be stupid. I’m calling her now.” She reached over and took the phone off the nightstand. Then she just stared at it before lifting her gaze to me. “I don’t know how to use it,” she whispered.

   Chuckling, I took it from her, dialed Mom’s number, and gave it back.

   “Mrs. Hunter?” Whatever Mom said made her grin. “He’s good. I’m taking good care of him.” She giggled. “We were both wondering if you’d like to meet us in Durham tomorrow? Or the next day . . . when you can. I’m sure you have deadlines and such—” Mom must’ve cut her off. “Okay! We’ll see you tomorrow at noon.” She hung up and handed the phone back.

   “She didn’t want to talk to me?” I said, feigning disappointment.

   “Sorry, baby.”

   I sighed dramatically. “Nobody loves The Hunter.”

   She laughed—my favorite of all her laughs. The uncontrollable kind that consumed her entire body. “Oh jeez,” she cooed when she could finally take a breath. Then she turned serious. “I love The Hunter.” My breath caught, but her finger covered my lips.

   “I wanted to tell you after you told me,” she continued. “I wanted to say that I loved you, too, but I didn’t want you to think that I was saying it for the sake of saying it. Or because you did first. I wanted you to know that I was saying it because it was the realest thing I’ve ever let myself feel.”

   I moved the hair away from her face so I could see her clearer, so I could remember the moment my life had a greater meaning than just me.

   “Blake,” she said through a shaky breath. “I’m so in love with you. And that love—it might not be forever. But while we’re both here—that love is always.”

   You must make a choice, to take a chance, or your life will never change.

   She reached up on her toes and kissed my nose. “You’re my change, Blake Hunter,” she said quietly.

   I smiled and stuck my magnet on the fridge. Then I kissed her temple and tugged on a strand of hair.

   You were born phenomenal.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

   Blake

   Mom’s eyes narrowed as she looked between Chloe and me. “So, you’ve been gone all this time, and you’ve crossed one state border . . . twice?” She took a sip of her drink and placed it carefully back down on the diner table.

   “Yeah, but there was this peach and this egg and this man-made, welcome-to-earth UFO,” I said seriously. “What else is there to see?”

   “You should have seen him at the UFO.” Chloe giggled. “It was like the greatest thing he’d ever seen.”

   “It was!” I was too excited. Turning to Chloe sitting next to me, I added, “Apart from you, of course. You’re definitely the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.”

   She scrunched her nose.

   “That was pretty lame, Blake.” That came from my own mother. “Remind me to teach you some better lines if you’re attempting to woo her.”

   I shrugged and stuck my nose in the air. “No woo attempt needed. She’s already bat-shit crazy in love with me.”

   I got a backhand to my stomach. That one came from my own girlfriend.

   Chloe went back to our new hotel; the balcony on the other one was too small. She wanted to give Mom and me some time, which was perfect because we both had something we needed to say.

   Mom settled her arm in the crook of my elbow as we walked through the park near the hotel. “I kicked your dad out. He’s living with his mistress. We’re getting a divorce, Blake. I’m sorry.”