Page 67 of Seven Lost Summers (Broken Oasis #3)

He sets that print down and reaches for another. This one is of the three of us, timer-shot, my mouth open mid-laugh, Nate’s head tipped, Theo’s eyes on me instead of the lens. Heat crawls up my throat. I should have hidden these. I should have pretended I am less obvious than I am.

He places the print back on the table and straightens.

His gaze shifts to Theo. My eyes follow for a moment, catching the smallest movement of Theo giving him a nod. Subtle, but enough to send something skittering in my chest. The exchange carries a weight I haven’t been invited into, as though some conversation I’m not privy too.

What the fuck is going on?

I turn my head back, tilting my chin up until my eyes meet Nate’s.

Nothing about his look is casual now. The stare pins me in place, a warning that something is about to shift and can’t be undone.

He steps in, close enough that the heat rolling off him grazes my skin.

His fingers brush mine as he takes the water bottle, eyes briefly scanning the cluttered table beside him.

Not a scrap of bare wood from the weathered table shows beneath the scattered mess of prints.

With nowhere to set it down, he turns, tossing the bottle onto the couch. It lands with a dull thud, forgotten.

I flick a nervous glance toward Theo.

He hasn’t moved from his place against the wall, but his eyes are locked on us with the kind of focus that makes the air press heavier. The way he’s watching, it’s almost as if I’ve been pulled into the middle of a moment they started without me.

When Nate faces me again, his focus pins me in place. The noise from the street fades, the air pulls tight until it feels too small to hold the both of us.

Nate’s voice is quiet when he speaks, but an edge cuts through—one I’ve only ever heard when he’s close to breaking.

“I never got a chance to say this before… when I had to. I should have said it before you left, but I was a coward.”

The words hang in the air, heavy, like they’re afraid to move too fast. Then he closes the last of the distance between us. His hand comes up, cupping my jaw. His thumb rests under my cheekbone, holding me as if he’s terrified I’ll disappear if he lets go. His gaze doesn’t waver.

“I love you,” he says. The words aren’t rushed, not thrown out to fill the silence.

Every syllable sounds carved from something deep, years in the making.

“I love you in a way I never believed I could again. I wake up wanting you. I fall asleep thinking about you. Every fucking day you’re not near me leaves me hollow, like I’m missing my own heart.

And that scares the fucking shit out of me, Q.

I thought I understood what you meant to me before, but these last two weeks have changed everything.

You’ve always been a part of me, but now you’re the one part I can’t live without. ”

My pulse is pure chaos. My chest feels too tight to hold everything that’s trying to get out.

He’s looking at me as though I’m the place he’s been trying to find his whole life—as though every road has led him here, to me, to home.

“I’ve spent years keeping everyone at arm’s length,” he continues, voice low, almost careful, as if the words might break if he’s not gentle with them.

“After Bianca… after losing her, I thought that was how you survive. You keep moving, keep smiling. You never let anyone close enough to see how much you’re still bleeding.

But you… you shattered all of that. You made me believe I could be more than what loss turned me into.

You made me believe there’s still something in me worth loving.

And for the first time since she died… I want to let someone in. ”

His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me in until his breath brushes mine.

“I can’t promise I won’t screw up,” he says.

“I’ll say the wrong thing, get stuck in my head, push when I should hold on.

I’ll fuck it up sometimes. But I’m done keeping my distance, Q.

I’m done letting fear win. You’re the one I want to fight for.

I’ll love you on the easy days, and I’ll love you harder on the days that scare the shit out of me.

Because losing you…” His thumb grazes my jaw.

“Losing you would be the one thing I wouldn’t come back from. ”

My throat aches. I want to answer, to tell him that every word he just gave me is buried so deep in my bones that he’s always been part of who I am, but my voice won’t work. My chest is too tight. My eyes sting. And the way he’s looking at me splinters whatever walls I had left.

So I do the only thing I can.

I move.

My hand curls into his shirt, bunching the fabric between my fingers as I pull myself into him. I press my mouth to his, soft at first, because anything harder might break me wide open. He exhales into me, as though he’s been holding his breath for years.

Then he kisses me back. Gone is the carefulness.

His hand at my neck tightens, his thumb brushing my jaw, tilting me just enough so he can take the kiss deeper.

It’s all heat and desperation, a clash of breath and pulse and the sharp taste of want.

He kisses me like he’s making a promise, and maybe he is, one he doesn’t need words for.

When I finally pull back, it’s only enough to breathe. My forehead rests against his and both of us pant. His eyes search mine, and his confession still thrums through me, waiting for my answer.

“I love you too,” I whisper.

His eyes close like the words hit somewhere deep, somewhere he’s been afraid to touch for a long time.

The corners of his mouth curve, not into a smile, but into something softer.

He presses a kiss to my temple, lingering against my skin, and I swear the relief shows in the way his body loosens against mine.

For a moment, the world narrows to only us, full of all the things we’ve never said until now.

I want to stay inside that space, let the feeling wrap around us until nothing else exists. But the world still presses in. And a piece of it stands only a few feet away.

I turn my head, and find Theo watching.

He’s not smirking, not making a joke or hiding behind that cocky grin he uses when he wants to pretend nothing gets to him.

I turn my attention back to Nate. The weight of what he just said is still vibrating through me. He leans in, his mouth grazing my lips, and murmurs something too soft for me to catch.

His attention shifts to Theo. The air between them changes without a single word spoken.

Nate’s fingers slide down my arm, catching my hand before releasing it, the warmth lingering even after it’s gone.

He steps forward and stops in front of Theo, close enough that the rest of the room seems to fall away.

I can’t hear what is said, but I see Theo’s jaw tighten, then he gives a small, certain nod. Nate’s hand finds his shoulder, a brief squeeze that says more than words ever could. I’ve always known something unshakable binds them, but at this moment it’s written in every line of their faces.

When Nate turns back to me, the edges of his mouth curve in that way that always knocks the breath from my chest.

“I’m heading to Marino’s,” he says. “Haven’t been there in forever. I’ll grab us a couple of pizza’s and let you two talk. Remember how they would always burn the crust but we still ate the whole damn thing anyway?”

The corner of my mouth lifts before I can stop it. “You mean before you drowned every slice in chilli flakes?”

His grin deepens. “That’s the one.”

He then moves toward the door.

Theo hasn’t moved, but his gaze is still on me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nate pause at the doorway, glance back at us, and then leave without another word.

The room seems smaller once he’s gone, though his presence still clings to the space.

Theo takes a slow step forward, and I know something is coming. I sense it building.