It would be easier for him to accept what might happen tomorrow night, if he knew I would end up in the light. And I wished, so very much, that I could tell him that would be the case.

Instead, I pulled him to me with sudden force and began to kiss him passionately. He hesitated for a split second and then kissed me back, grabbing ahold of me so forcefully that we accidentally climbed the remaining steps. Before I knew it, my back was pressed against Jillian’s bedroom door and my hands were . . . everywhere, it seemed.

But just as quickly as the kissed started, it ended. Joshua used the door to push himself away, until he stood closer to his bedroom door than to me. We stayed that way for a while: both panting, neither moving. Eventually, Joshua had composed himself enough to give me a small, strangely polite bow of his head.

“Good night, Amelia.”

And with those words, he was gone, ducking through his bedroom door and shutting it quickly behind him. I stared at it, blinking rapidly for God knew how long. Then, for lack of a better option, I opened the door to Jillian’s bedroom and slipped inside.

After I shut Jillian’s door behind me, I leaned back against it and closed my eyes. My nerves were still rattling around, mostly because of that kiss: it felt strangely meaningful, as though it was just a prelude.

I was still lost in thought when I heard Jillian sigh dramatically.

“Are you going to sneak into my brother’s room tonight and, like, do it?”

With an embarrassed half grin, I stormed over to where Jillian sat on her bed, grabbed one of her ruffled throw pillows, and smacked her playfully with it. Then, without saying a word, I changed into pajama pants and a soft tee and crawled onto the pallet of blankets that she’d made for me on the floor.

Jillian didn’t say anything else, either, choosing instead to flop unceremoniously onto her bed. Just before she clicked off her bedside lamp, however, she whispered, “So I guess I’ll take your silence as a yes?”

I could make no other reply but to smack her with my pillow again.

Chapter

TWENTY-FOUR

D amn Jillian and her stupid perceptiveness.

That was the only rational thought I could muster when, around two a.m., I finally gave in to my impulses and snuck from Jillian’s room toward Joshua’s. I wavered at his door, unsure of how best to enter. Knocking seemed too formal, too unlike us. But barging in at two in the morning and demanding that he kiss me again seemed way too crazy.

Fortunately, Joshua solved my dilemma for me. I was still standing outside his room, contemplating my first move, when he swung his door open, grabbed me to pull me inside, and then began kissing me fiercely as he shut the door behind us.

“I heard you coming over,” he murmured in between our kisses, by way of an explanation.

“I just wasn’t sure about our last night . . . I didn’t want to waste . . .”

I couldn’t get the thought out, partly because it was so difficult and partly because I couldn’t really think straight with him this close to me. Finally, I placed one hand on his chest and pushed him away, just long enough to release a few, painful words.

“If it’s my last night on earth,” I whispered, “I want it to be with you. No one else but you.”

Joshua pressed his forehead to mine and nodded, squeezing my upper arm tightly but not painfully. After taking a few moments to compose himself, Joshua nodded again and whispered, “Let’s go outside. To the gazebo.”

I blinked back, not sure about the wisdom of that suggestion. After all, the family had only gone to bed a few hours ago, and they might hear us exit the back door. Besides, it was probably cold outside. But, assuming Joshua had his reasons for asking, I slipped my hand into his and let him lead me.

Outside, I discovered that I was right: it was chilly. I began to shiver as we walked from the back porch to the gazebo, and Joshua released my hand so that he could wrap his arm around me for warmth. Then, with his free hand, he pulled back the heavy curtains that covered the gazebo’s entrance to reveal the biggest surprise of the night.

Inside, the hanging lanterns glittered like stars—Joshua must have lit them all, because the entire room sparkled with their soft light. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but most of the plants within the gazebo were now blooming, too: white petals brightened dark corners, scented the air, fell delicately around the daybed, which Joshua had pushed against the far wall.

In the center of the gazebo, underneath the largest lantern, a wide stretch of wooden floor now lay bare. As Joshua guided me out to its center, I finally recognized the open space for what it was: a makeshift dance floor.

Joshua pulled me to him and, after a few still seconds, began to sway with me at the center of the gazebo. There was no music—we couldn’t play anything, unless we wanted to risk waking his family—but that didn’t seem to matter. We moved together for a long time, holding each other tightly, not wanting to allow even an inch between us. Eventually, I pressed my hand gently to the nape of his neck to draw his mouth to mine.

When the kiss ended, I leaned back and laughed slightly, running my fingers along his jawline.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, smiling faintly.

“I just had a weird thought.”

“And what was that?”

“I wondered whether you missed them,” I said softly. “Our sparks.”

He turned his head to kiss my fingertips and then gave me a smile that was equal parts tender and playful. “I wouldn’t say the sparks are gone, Amelia. At least, not for me.”

My laughter was low and rough. I led him to kiss me again and again, until I lost count. I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, dancing and kissing under the artificial stars. But after an indeterminate amount of time, I noticed that our circles had grown wider until we stood next to the daybed.

When he noticed this, too, Joshua hesitated. But I didn’t. I slipped my hands beneath his shirt, sliding it up over his chest. Despite the chill in the gazebo, Joshua helped me completely remove his shirt. Then he allowed me to pull him gently onto the daybed with me. There, he lay close enough to me that I knew neither of us would feel the cold for much longer.

The sight of him there, on that bed with me, made something wild unleash itself within me. Before I knew what had happened, my kisses grew feverish and I began to guide Joshua’s hands to the hem of my shirt. I felt him take the edge of it between his fingers, but then he froze. He pulled his mouth away from mine, frowning heavily.

“Amelia, I can’t . . . ,” Joshua whispered, shaking his head.

A sliver of ice cut its way through my heart.

“You can’t what?” I whispered back, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. “You can’t be with me on our last night together?”

He faltered, about to say something different, and then shook his head dejectedly.

“No, I can’t.”

“You don’t want me,” I concluded. Now I didn’t even try to fight my tears.

“Of course I do.” Still shaking his head a little, Joshua pressed his forehead to mine. “I just know that if we do this, we can’t take it back. I can’t take it back. I’d live the rest of my life with this memory of you, with this part of you in my heart, and I can’t live with . . . I don’t know how I’ll . . .”

His voice finally broke, and he turned away from me so that I couldn’t see his eyes. I smiled, sad and soft, and then reached up to cup his face in my hands, carefully turning it so that I could look straight into those perfect, midnight-blue eyes.