Tears filled Presley’s eyes, and her face reddened. “God, my father’s an asshole.”

Dylan nodded. “He is. But we just have to get through the rest of this year, then he’ll no longer have a say about anything. If I could, I’d move you in with me now, but as cool as my family is, they do have their limits. Shacking up isn’t something they’re too keen on. Once we graduate and I get my trust, it won’t matter what he says. I’ll take care of you.”

Presley swiped under her eye and shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’d never ask you to take care of me. I could get a job or something.”

Dylan laughed and lifted his hands, cupping her face. “You never would have to ask me to take care of you. Don’t you get it? I want to. I want to do it for the rest of our lives. I know we’re young. We’re going to fight and scream and say hurtful things to each other. But, Presley, I’m not being naïve when I say you’re the only girl for me. I feel you in every part of me. You’re all I’ll ever want. I love you.”

Presley nodded and sighed. “Please don’t ever stop romancing the shit out of me. I really fucking love it. I love the butterflies you give me.”

“Speaking of butterflies,” Dylan said, reaching into his pocket. “I got you something. It was supposed to be for Valentine’s Day, but after the last twenty-four hours, I thought you could use something to cheer you up.

“You cheer me up,” Presley argued with a smile.

“Just open it,” he whispered, placing the small blue box in her hand.

“What have you done?” she asked, pulling off the lid. A gasp left her lips as her fingers trailed over the necklace inside. “Dylan…”

He pulled it from the box, the red and black stones fitted inside the butterfly charm glinting in the early morning sun. “Turn around,” he murmured. Clasping the chain around her neck, he moved in front of her and smiled. “It looks perfect.”

Presley nodded, her eyes glassy. “You really do make everything flutter.”

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