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Laura grins. “Perfect. I’ll go get it started.”

When she leaves the room, my attention drifts back to Daniel. He’s so close I can smell the woodsy scent of his shampoo. He has three freckles. One under his eye and two on his cheek. His hair is a mess, scattered all over, bangs in his eyes.

I’m scared of the feeling building in me. I want to know the thoughts running through his head. What is he dreaming about?

My heart starts to race again as I run my hand through his bangs, brushing them out of his eyes. My hand lingers a little longer than it should as I let myself hold on to this moment, knowing that when he wakes up, I’ll pretend it never happened. I’ll remind myself that he’s not mine. That there’s no reason for me to get to know him.

I take a deep breath and start to pull away.

His eyes flutter open, and his hand covers mine, keeping it tangled in his hair.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

DANIEL

Five minutes earlier

I’m dreaming about Margo.

I picture her smile, big and bright, as she takes my hand and leads me through a field of flowers. The sun twinkles across her face, and she bends down to smell a wildflower. She motions for me to copy her, and I do even though I’ve never cared about flowers before. The flower is as pink as the blush on her cheeks.

I like it here. I lie down on the grass and watch as birds fly overhead in the blue sky. Margo lies down next to me and starts humming a tune to herself. If I had it my way, I’d never leave this place.

But Laura’s voice filters into the dream. “Can I get you anything?”

My heart leaps into my throat because I become overly aware of where I am. My head isn’t against the couch. It’s resting against Margo’s shoulder. I can feel a slight bounce in her shoulder as she talks with Laura.

I know I should open my eyes, but if I do, I’ll have to move. I don’t want to. I want to drift back into my dream where Margo isn’t afraid to tell me how she feels. Where she isn’t afraid to take my hand. Where I’m not afraid to let her.

Her fingers graze my face, and for a second I wonder if I’ve fallen back to sleep, but her touch is too real. Goosebumps ripple up my arms as she brushes my bangs back.

I thought I could do it—stay perfectly still and pretend to be asleep—but as she starts to pull her hand back, I realize I can’t. I open my eyes and confirm this isn’t a dream. I reach up and wrap my hand around hers. I want so badly to get used to this feeling. She’s so close, shock coating her face, lips parting like she wants to say something.

I need to be right.

I need her to like me.

I need Margo Blakely to want me.

And this time I won’t be the first to pull away.

Margo clears her throat and shifts her weight, hand slipping out from under mine. “Your hair was in your face,” she says.

I sit up, wishing her hand was still in my hair.

Margo’s cheeks are flushed. They’re even pinker than in my dream.

“Thanks,” I say.

I wish she would come clean and tell me how she feels. She doesn’t have to be afraid of what I’ll say. Not anymore.

She shows me the phone. “I’ve made a lot of progress while you napped. I’ve been reaching out to people who were in the same graduating class as your mom.”

“Has anyone responded?” I ask.

She shakes her head with a laugh. “Still impatient as ever,I see. Someone is bound to eventually. I sent a million messages.”

We sit there for what seems like forever as Laura finishes dinner. Every few seconds Margo checks her messages, and I try my best to hold a conversation. There’s only one thing on my mind, though. I have to know.