“Oh, a lot of things, I guess,” he says vaguely. “I don’t presume to know much about love, but I know Ian is head over heels for you. He’d give his life for you. Which he almost did last night when I threatened to kill him for seducing you.”
My lips part to explain that I seduced Ian, not the other way around, when Derrick beats me to it. “But he explained that you were the one who started things as well as the one who finished them.” He glances my way. “But I have a strong feeling you were pushing him away for his own good. Is that right?”
I gulp and press a hand to my chest, where my heart is thrashing against my sternum. “Yes, but what… Where are we going? What did you do?”
“I’m giving him a chance to convince you that you’re what’s good for him. I figured it’s the least I could do after giving him a black eye.”
“What?” I shake my head. “No, this isn’t right. I can’t, Derrick. He has to go to Portland or wherever else he decides to go. He can’t stay here for me. I can’t be responsible for ruining his chance at making the most of his talent.”
“Love and commitment are scary. I get it,” he says, slowing as we approach Ian’s family home to see all the Foxes out in the front yard. The adults are drinking beers around a firepit while the grandkids jump in the bouncy house inflated on the front lawn. As soon as I see Ian’s mom’s warm, welcoming smile, so many memories come rushing back.
She was like my second mom after mine left and always there when I needed help from an older, wiser woman. Kay is the one who bought me my first box of pads and who explained how to use tampons when I decided I couldn’t stand to keep sitting on the sidelines while my friends splashed in the community pool. She was the one who helped me take in the prom dress I found at the thrift store and took pictures when Jess and Harlow came to pick me up in the limo.
I love her so much and I know she loves me, but will she still love me if I set off a bomb in her son’s career?
As I emerge from the car, my knees unsteady and my pulse even unsteadier, Kay envelops me in a big, hard hug and whispers, “No matter what, you’re still one of my girls. You always will be. Even if you say no.” She pulls back, beaming down at me as she adds, “But I hope you’ll say yes.”
“Yes to…what? Exactly?” I ask, my voice trembling nearly as hard as the rest of me.
Kay smiles. “You should ask Ian about that. He’s in the backyard waiting for you. But if you’re hungry, I can get you a hot dog before you head back. He won’t mind waiting a few more minutes.”
“I could probably fly easier than I could eat right now,” I confess, making her laugh.
“Understandable,” she says, giving my arm an encouraging squeeze. “Then head on back. We’ll be here when you’re finished, but we won’t bother you unless you want to be bothered. If you want, you can jump right back into the car with Derrick and head off, no stress, no mess.”
Right.
No stress or mess…
I adore Kay, but she’s always been almost delusionally optimistic. Though, to think of it, his dad, Jack—who waves and booms, “Hey there, Evie!” as I pass by the firepit—is pretty upbeat, too.
Clearly, Ian comes by his hopeful streak honestly.
I don’t want to dent his spirit any more than the team has dented it already, but I don’t see a way forward for us. I may have made my decision quickly when I wrote that note and ran, but that doesn’t mean I made it casually or didn’t think things through.
I’m preparing to explain that to Ian, while hopefully holding myself together, when I step through the gate into the backyard and all my good intentions evaporate in a rush of emotion.
Chapter 33
Ian
It took ten hours and every last bit of spray paint in my parents’ garage—and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to feel my “spraying finger” again—but the moment I see Evie’s face, I know every second was worth it.
“What…” She trails off with an awed shake of her head as she wanders closer to the painted sheet pinned to the clothesline. “What did you do?”
“I wanted to show you that I could take art therapy seriously.” I force myself to remain beside the tree that supports our old tree house, giving her space. “So, I redid the iceberg assignment. With a few changes.”
Her hand comes to hover in front of her lips and her eyes begin to shine. “It’s a love berg,” she murmurs, her throat working as she swallows.
“I wanted to prove to you that this isn’t a flash in the pan or a rebound,” I say. “I may have just woken up to the way I feel, but that doesn’t mean this feeling is new or shouldn’t be trusted. Just look at all the stuff lurking beneath the surface, Feisty. I basically had no choice but to fall in love with you.”
She blinks, sending tears streaking down her cheeks and that’s it, I can’t keep myself from her for another second. A beat later, she’s in my arms, hugging me tight as I drop kisses over her sweet curly head, praying harder than I’ve prayed in years that she won’t pull away from me again.
“I love you, Evie,” I say, “more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Please don’t push me away. We can figure this out. I know we can. Assuming you feel even half of what I feel.”
She pulls back, gazing up at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. “You painted a giant love mural. For me.”
“And it has all my favorite things about you,” I say, pointing toward the very bottom of the berg. “Down there is the way you make ordinary things feel magical. Even when you were a little kid, you had this way of seeing the world that just…blew me away. It made me want to be around you, to be a part of your world.”
“Like the Little Mermaid,” she says, more tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Exactly like that,” I say, swiping them away with my thumbs. “I would comb my hair with a fork with you any day. And that’s not even my favorite Evie thing. I love the way you face your problems, even when they’re hard or confusing, the way you’re always there for the people you love, and how warm and open-hearted you are, even when it would have been so easy, and so understandable, if you’d grown up bitter instead. So many people have let you down or underestimated the incredible person you are.”
“But not you,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “No, I’m guilty, too. I was so busy telling myself you were still a kid I needed to protect that I didn’t see the strong, smart, savvy woman you’d become. And I’m sorry for that. My only defense is that telling myself those things made it easier to deny the way I was starting to feel about you.”
“That makes me so happy but…” Her brows pinch closer together as she adds, “But I don’t want you to stay in New York for me, Ian. I mean, of course I selfishly want you close, but that isn’t—”
“What about New Jersey?” I ask. “Would that be close enough?”
She blinks and her mouth opens and closes a few times before she stammers, “You think you can get a spot on the team?”