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“While I’m gone,“ Gansey said, pausing, “dream me the world. Something new for every night.”

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She said, “I just want to pretend. I want to pretend that I could.” He breathed out. What was a kiss without a kiss? “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt if I kiss you,” he whispered. “Maybe it’s only if you kiss me.” They both swallowed at the same time, and the spell was broken. “And then we never speak of it again,” Gansey said, mocking himself softly.

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Stiefvater's latest drawing of the raven boys

Blue called Gansey. He picked up at once. “I wasn’t sleeping.” “I know,” she replied. “Come get me.” They didn’t speak. The radio tripped and waltzed. The car roared. The wind buffeted inside the cab. Blue put her hand on top of Gansey’s and held it, white-knuckled. There wasn’t another soul on the road but them.