“And he was, of course, Beautiful,” Jeremiah said. “Which didn’t hurt. Books and a good heart and beauty. I’m sorry I’m not your hero. It’s all going wrong and I didn’t actually have a plan. I normally do.”
“I know. You can’tthink you’re not—”
“Around you I do things because I want to.” Jeremiah sighed, leaned into Cade a little: holding on as much as protecting, an admission. “I don’t stop to think. I followed you into the rain that first night because I couldn’t not, and you kissed me, and I wanted that. I wanted to get on my knees and into your bed, and I wanted to help you. You were hurting and I wanted to be there for you, as much as you’d let me. I know that’s a fantasy too. I wanted to be your prince for once. Without even thinking about whether that was what you really needed. Or whether I even could. Be anyone’s fairy-story. Me.”
“But you were,” Cade said, wide-eyed, “you are, you’re everything I didn’t know I—”