“Why don’t we call Zoe and see if she wants to tag along,” I suggested, picking up Beckett’s plate with his uneaten bagel. He said he wasn’t hungry. That should have bothered me. The man ate like a horse.

“Do we have to?” Beckett whined, pulling me down onto his lap and nuzzling my neck. I tingled all over from his touch. I didn’t think I’d ever get tired of it.

“Okay, you get a pass this time. But I told her we’d hang out sometime.”

“Hey, you agreed to that, not me. So that’s on you, Cor-Cor.”

I pinched his side and he jumped. “Ouch!”

“Call it negative reinforcement. Every time you use that god-awful nickname, you’re getting the pinch.” I pretended to pinch him again and he flinched.

“Okay, okay. I surrender!”

Beckett pressed his lips to mine, leaning me back over the arm of the chair. Just as he started to slide his hand up my shirt, he looked up.

“He’s doing it again, Corin,” he whispered.

Sure enough, Mr. Bingley was sitting on the other end of the kitchen table, licking his paw and watching us. Beckett had developed a major complex about my cat.

I laughed. Deep from the gut.

Life was good.

—

I should have known nothing great could ever last.

If I had known how that day would end, I would have done so many things differently.

I would have focused on the small things. The color of Beck’s hair. The way it curled around his ears.

The sound of his breathing while he slept.

The smile that he gave only to me.

The way he said my name just before he kissed me.

Important things.

Things that I’d never want to forget.

—

“Come on, let’s ride the Tilt-A-Whirl!” I cried, pulling Beckett by the hand.

He was such a good sport. I knew the carnival wasn’t his thing but he went anyway. For me.

“We just went on the Scrambler. Can’t we take a break?” he asked, smiling, but it looked a little pained.

He was moving slower. Sluggish even.

You’re being paranoid! I silently reprimanded myself.

I was looking for something to be wrong when there wasn’t.

Beckett would tell me if he didn’t feel right.

He wouldn’t jeopardize his health like that.

“Fine. But if I barf, I’m aiming it right at you,” he teased.

He kissed me as we waited in line and it was the best thing in the world.

“Hey, isn’t that Adam?” Beckett asked after we got off the ride, puke free. He pointed to a familiar dark head in the crowd.

It was Adam. He was waiting in line for caramel apples, a giant panda bear tucked under his arm.

“He hates stuff like this. What in the hell is he doing here?” I mused. Beckett and I headed in his direction.

I tapped my friend on the shoulder and he jerked his head up, an annoyed look on his face. It smoothed out when he saw that it was me.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I said.

“Uh, yeah. Fancy that.”

Had we died and been reborn British?

“Hey, Beckett,” Adam said, nodding at my boyfriend.

“Howdy, Adam. That’s an awfully pretty panda you’ve got there,” Beck drawled.

Adam fidgeted. What had him so nervous?

“Oh, yeah. That’s not mine. I don’t do pandas. I mean they’re cute, I guess. But not my thing.”

Beckett and I exchanged a look.

“I’m back,” a high-pitched giggle interjected.

I watched as Krista came up and wrapped her arms around Adam’s middle. “You’re still in line? Geez, it’s taking forever,” she complained.

I raised an eyebrow as Adam blushed. I had never seen him so red.

Like I didn’t know something was going on between them. It had become way too obvious.

Krista finally realized we were standing there. “Oh hey, Corin! I didn’t know you were here,” she chirped. Her hold on Adam was ironclad, and it amused me how uncomfortable he was.

“Yeah, we haven’t been here that long. Krista, this is my boyfriend, Beckett. Beckett, this is Krista. She works at the studio part time,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

Beckett’s eyes widened a fraction. “Oh. Well, it’s nice meeting you,” he said.

Adam looked ready to crawl out of his skin.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it. Have fun.” Adam nodded, not meeting my eyes. It was kind of cute.

“Let me know when you want to have that talk,” I whispered in his ear.

Adam cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay.”

Krista gave us a wave as we said our goodbyes.

“Did you know about that?” Beckett asked.

“I had a suspicion.”

“He looked like he wanted to jump off a very tall building.” Beckett chuckled.

“I know. It was awesome!” I agreed, grinning.

Beckett stumbled a bit and I pulled up short. “Are you okay?” I couldn’t help but ask.

Beckett waved me off. “It was a rock, Corin. No need to look like someone ran over Mr. Bingley.”

I smacked his arm. “Don’t ever joke about Mr. Bingley getting run over.”

“Well, you need to explain to your cat bad things happen to felines playing Peeping Tom every time I try to get in your pants.”

“Maybe you need to start keeping your hands to yourself,” I suggested, biting my lip.

Beckett pulled me up against him and gave me a kiss to beat all other kisses.

“Not going to happen,” he said thickly.

I was soaring so high, I was pretty sure I’d never touch the ground again.

So that made the crash completely devastating.

—

“Come on, Beck!” I pulled on his hand. I was on a massive sugar buzz and feeling slightly slaphappy.

We had ridden way too many rides and eaten way too much food.

It was the best time I could remember having in a long time.

But as the night wore on, Beckett stumbled a few more times. When I asked him about it, he only said he was getting a little tired.

Why didn’t I pester him?

Why didn’t I demand he tell me the truth?

Because I was enjoying my happiness. Finally.

I pulled him toward a carnie booth. A giant lit-up clown spun around in circles as people threw balls into its mouth. It was no doubt rigged but I wanted to give it a try.

Beckett was falling behind and I had to tug on him to get him to catch up.

“Let’s play!” I called over my shoulder.

I handed the carnie a dollar and he passed me three balls.

The first one went in.

The second one went in.

The third flew through the clown’s gaping mouth.

I jumped up and down, clapping my hands. I felt Beckett squeeze my arm.

“Corin—”

But I wasn’t listening.

I wasn’t listening!

The carnie guy handed me a horrible-looking stuffed brown bear and I whirled around, smiling high.

“Beck, look I won!”

He was so pale. His eyes were glassy and his hand was clutched in a fist over his chest.

Over his chest…

“Beckett, what’s wrong?” I demanded.

I felt fear then.

Potent, real fear.

“Nothing.” He waved me off.

And then he bent over and threw up in the dirt. I gasped, vomit splashing my shoes.

“Fucking drunk,” some asshole said from beside us.

“Oh my god, Beck!”

He collapsed onto the ground. His breaths were wheezy gasps. His eyes started to roll back into his head.

“I love you, Corin Thompson.”

“Call 911!” I screamed. I tried to pull out my phone to make the call but my fingers wouldn’t work.

“The ambulance is on its way, sweetheart,” an older woman said.

“Beckett!” I sobbed, the tears rolling down my face.

He was incredibly pale. His lips were tinged with blue.

I leaned down and pressed my ear to his chest.

It was quiet.

So, so quiet.

I listened for his breath but there was none.

Beckett’s heart had stopped.

“No,” I wailed.

Get it together, Corin! Snap out of it!

I had to help him!

I would be damned if he was going to die on my watch.

I rolled him flat on his back and put my lips around his. Administering five quick, successive breaths into his mouth.