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  “I have too much to worry about today. Wear the dress or don’t. I really don’t care. But for the record...it looks good on you.”

  “Um...thank you?” I say, completely perplexed.

  She spins on her heel and starts for the stairs, but turns before taking the first one. “Just so you know, I thought he was cute—that guy at your dorm. I’m sorry it didn’t work out. I know we have our differences and you drive me crazy...but you looked happy. And it made Mom happy so...we’re good, right?” She sucks in her bottom lip while she stares at me.

  Somehow I don’t think we’re talking about Ozzie anymore. Is this her attempt at an apology? Did Mom put her up to this? Or does she realize she just hurt my feelings? At any rate, I don’t look slap miracles in the face. I appreciate how hard it is for her to say what she’s said, so I reply, with sincerity, “That means a lot, Amanda. Really.”

  But then she rolls her eyes at me, and says, “Whatever. Just...hurry up and come downstairs, I need you to help me spray paint some roses.”

  And just like that, our tender moment is gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In the biggest banquet room at the town country club, my sister and her fiancé share their happy news with all of their friends and family. They approach the night like a wedding, although it’s not. Circular tables dot the room with Amanda, her fiancé, their parents, and their step-parents also seated at the table with them. No siblings, thank God. I’m not interested in the spotlight.

  Knives clink on glasses, and the couple rise and kiss. It’s tradition—at a wedding. I’m not the only one that thinks this is over the top.

  “Why are we here?” my cousin Tasha says. “Is one day not enough? She has to extend it to two? Or is there a wedding registry party, too?”

  My Aunt Amelia, Tasha’s mother, leans over and says, “How long before we can leave without her noticing?”

  I chuckle at the two of them. Does anyone in my family like Amanda besides my mother? I almost feel bad for her. But she does it to herself. If only she’d let her guard down like earlier and let people get to know her better, but I’m not sure if that’s ever going to happen.

  The dinner ends around eight, and the tables are moved to the perimeter of the room for dancing. Mom hired my second cousin, Thomas, to deejay. He’s pretty good, only he likes to play X-rated songs that make my step-dad and his family scrunch their faces up so badly they look like they’re chewing on lemons. But he plays Rhianna so I can’t praise him enough.

  I watch everyone dance, wishing I had the courage to get up there and dance like no one is watching. I’m fearful I might have to do just that when I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. I turn around and am stunned at who I find.

  “Oz…Ozzie? What are you doing here?”

  “Can we get some air?”

  I stumble to my feet, almost tripping over them. “Yeah, sure.”

  With a hand lightly touching my back, so gentle in fact that I'm not sure it’s really there, he leads me to the open balcony doors. It’s a beautiful night. Warm enough for just a sweater or a thin long-sleeved shirt. And the moon is out, shining bright enough to light up the sky. Lanterns decorate the balcony. We stop by the far railing. I set my hands on the edge and lean forward, taking in the view of the lake and the forest beyond.

  Ozzie is here. With me. Right now. And he had to drive an hour and a half to get here. You don’t do that for no good reason. I’m hopeful. So hopeful, in fact, that I refuse to let myself get too excited. I don’t want to get my hopes up.

  “You’re the last person I expected to see here,” I say quietly.

  “To be honest, I didn’t expect to be here either. I…uh…got your story. You know, the one about the little girl whose dad loved his work more than his family. And how the girl tried desperately to please him, to get him to notice her, but he never would.”

  “Sounds like a crap story,” I say, trying to lighten the mood and make myself feel a little less embarrassed.

  “You said you had to get what you wanted before realizing it wasn’t what you wanted after all. But that was it. You ended it with a cliffhanger.”

  “A cliffhanger? I don’t understand. Did you not get all of it?”

  “I think I did. The last line, THE END, was a pretty big clue.”

  Ozzie wears a shirt and tie and black slacks. He loosens his tie and takes a deep breath. “You never actually said what it is was that you do want.”

  “Oh.” And it occurs to me, only now, that I didn’t. It’s not because I don’t know. I think I’m clearer about that right now than I ever have been. And it’s not just Ozzie. I want him, yes, but I also want to write fiction. And I won’t be discouraged anymore. “I want that internship.”

  He smiles. “That’s what I thought. And you should go for it. You sent me a six-page letter that I couldn’t put down. I was so angry, yet after reading it, I found myself smitten all over again. You have a voice that needs to be heard.”

  “I’m so sorry I lied to you,” I say.

  He looks to his shoes, nodding. “I know that. And I know you didn’t post all those pages from your book. Everything you said at my place was dead on. I wanted to think you posted them. It made it easier to walk away. I’m just so damn scared of getting hurt. I’ve lost everyone I’ve loved. I’m not sure I could handle losing anyone else.”

  “Do you...still feel that way? Or is there a chance we can get past it? I swear I will never lie or keep anything from you again. I just want a second chance. Everyone deserves one. Me. You. My dad. Maybe even Piper and my sister. And if you care about someone enough, then it shouldn’t be a stretch to find it in your heart to do that. I want that…from you. But I guess if you can’t see your way to forgiving me, then maybe you don’t think what we had was as great as I thought it was.”

  He sighs. His frown slowly turns into a smile. “I saw your grandmother earlier. She was on Fairview Street. With no pants on.”

  “What? Oh, my God,” I say, my cheeks heating. “Where’d she go?”

  “I drove her here. It seems she likes Ludacris as much as you do.”

  I lean forward on my elbows and drop my head into my arms and laugh. When I lift my head, he’s right beside me, leaning over, too. His face is next to mine. He smells of soap and aftershave and roses.

  “I’m so sorry. She can be… a little much.”

  “Nah…I like her. A lot. And you know, they always say the girl you like will eventually turn into her mother…or grandmother. If I had a girl who had the balls to walk around without pants on and then call someone a cunt because they were called on it…well, I think I’d be one lucky guy.”

  “She called you a—”

  He holds up a hand to stop me. “It could have been something else, but I’m pretty sure it was cunt.”

  I sigh and laugh, not sure what else to do. “My whole family is crazy.”

  “I think they’re pretty great.”

  “So what now?” I say softly. “Are you here to find out the ending to my story? Or…”

  “I fucked up.”

  “What? You?”

  He straightens and turns so his back is against the railing. I stand tall but still face the water. I watch him closely.

  “I don’t want to be the guy who cuts and runs when things get hard. I had too many people disappoint me, and I guess I expected you to do the same. But I never really gave you a chance. I was hopeful, but always waiting for something to go wrong. If you hadn’t lied, I would have found something else to leave you for. No matter how much I wanted to stay. No matter how much I was falling.”

  “I’ve been hurt too, Ozzie. Not in the same way, but hurt is hurt. It sucks. And believe me when I say I won’t hurt you again. I. Will. Not. Because I can’t stand the alternative.”

  He reaches out for me, one hand cupping my shoulder while the other cups my neck. I take a step closer to him, and his hands slide up to my cheeks. They’re warm, almost clammy. He’s nervous. I wonder if his h
eart is beating as wildly as mine. I hold out my hand and place it on his chest to feel the rapid thumping.

  I wrap my arms around his middle, pull him toward me, and rest my head on his chest. He holds me, softly, like I'm made of glass. He moves my hair out of my eyes, away from my forehead, and presses a soft kiss to my skin that lingers after his lips pull away.

  “I missed you,” I say. “I wish you knew how much.”

  He rubs circles on my back. “I think I have an idea. I felt it, too.”

  “So what now?"

  “We could find your grandma some pants?” he says, his tone teasing.

  “But what would be the fun in that?”

  Epilogue

  It's hotter than hell in Digby. I hold up my wristwatch and check the time. My boss let me go a whole hour early today, and Ozzie should be here any moment. He’s never late to pick me up. I thought I was anal, but if I make him late for anything, he loses his mind. Perhaps we aren’t so dissimilar after all.

  On cue, and always five minutes early, Ozzie rolls up outside of Tide and Time Publishing. I managed to get the job here with the story I wrote for Ozzie. He submitted it for me because he knew I was too nervous to do it myself. I guess that’s when I knew how bad I wanted this internship. I threw myself into pursuing a career as a journalist because I thought it mattered. Turns out when I really want something, I’m so afraid of failure, it’s easier for me to fail on my own terms.

  He leans over, pushes the door open, and I climb inside. Like every time I go without seeing him all day, he pulls me in close and claims my lips, kissing me hard and tasting my tongue while his hands roam my back and my ass. I missed him too, and with every circle of his tongue, the sensitive flesh between my legs grows hotter.

  He smells so good. The scent of his soap still fresh on his body from a recent shower. He’s training hard this summer, after an invite to try out for a major junior team in the fall. I can’t even describe how proud I am of him, or how happy I am to think he might be playing for a team near Saint Martha’s. It’ll make the next three years of school bearable if we don’t have to live miles apart.

  “How did today go?” he asks after catching his breath.

  “Good. She let me go through the slush pile, and I found this really great manuscript.” I tap my messenger bag. “I have it with me. A little light reading over the weekend. I couldn’t put it down.”

  “Well, as long as you don’t ignore me completely, I think I’ll be okay with it.” He winks at me.

  “Like you have a choice.”

  He pulls away from the curb and turns at the end of the street to get on the highway, driving us back to Mary’s. I scoot closer to him and thread my arm under his. He takes my hand, intertwining our fingers before lifting our hands and kissing mine. If it’s possible to smile with your entire body, then I’m doing it now and so is he. I feel like I’m twelve and I’ve just had my first kiss. This is how he makes me feel every single day.

  When he asked me to live with him and Mary for the summer, I hesitated, not wanting to take advantage of either of them. But then...they did something totally unexpected. Something that made it impossible for me to say no.

  They gave me a card, with CONGRATULATIONS written on the front in big, colorful letters. On the inside, they invited me to become an honorary member of their family. I laughed it off at first, thinking it was cute but I failed to see the deeper meaning. I assumed the card was Mary’s idea and I loved the thought that went behind it. But when I looked at Ozzie’s shy face and his sincere, glassy eyes I knew it meant something more. Something he might have trouble putting into words. Something I wanted to hear since the first time he kissed me.

  Without hesitation or fear, I threw my arms around him and quietly whispered into his ear, “I love you.” And that was all it took for him to find the courage to say it right back.

  About the Author

  Sara Hubbard is a romantic fiction author. She loves alpha males and the sweet, sassy women who make them believe in change. Sara lives in Nova Scotia, Canada with her two children (four if you count her husband and her needy labradoodle) and works as a registered nurse.

  Sign up for Sara’s mailing list to be notified about new releases and to receive bonus content: http://eepurl.com/NDwi5

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  Also by Sara Hubbard

  Contemporary Novels

  Beautiful and Broken: A Beautiful & Broken World Novel, #1

  Saving Sullivan

  inCapable (An inCapable World, #1)

  unForgivable (An inCapable World, #2)

  Flawed

  The Last Shot

  Pucker Up

  Fantasy Novels

  Blood, She Read

  By Force

  By Choice