“Oh, wow, I haven’t thought about her in a very long time.” I laugh. “She was older than me by, like, two years. She was a seniorwhen I was a sophomore. I played varsity football, and she was in the band. A saxophone player. She was the first person I ever felt love for, and when she broke up with me to go to college, I was devastated.”
“Did she ever reach out to you again?” she asks.
“Yeah, once I signed my contract with the Angels to play. But I’d already moved on,” I say. “Every relationship I’ve ever been in has taught me something.”
“What do you think this lesson will be?” she asks.
“Not to give up.” The truth tumbles out of my mouth.
“Yeah, that’s perfect.”
I continue chatting about my hockey days and training, and she eventually falls asleep.
I end the call, then lie in the dark, thinking about her, about us, about what we just did.
We were vulnerable, open, entirely focused on each other.
I think about Harper’s prediction and know I’m falling in love with Julie Loveland.
No, I’ve already fallen. I don’t need forty days to decide if I want more time with her, but she needs it. Being together would be a big step for both of us, but we’d figure it out. Whatever it took … I’d do it.
Tomorrow at the apple orchard, we’ll be one day closer to decision time. We have time, even if the universe is cockblocking us.
It will be just us, the autumn air, and the truth we’ve been dancing around since the moment we met.
16
JULIE
Sunlight streams through my bedroom window as my eyes flutter open. Last night was like a fever dream. Between the party, Harper’s prophecy, meeting his family, the frustration of being interrupted twice, and then the FaceTime call. Oh God.
I feel my cheeks heat just thinking about it. I don’t know this adventurous woman I am when I’m with him, but that was the point of my list.
My phone dings on the nightstand, and I see it’s just past ten in the morning. I bolt out of bed, realizing I haven’t slept this late in years.
Nick
Morning, beautiful. Still on for apple picking?
Julie
Yes. What time?
Nick
When you’re ready. Patterson’s still passed out. Going to leave him here with a note, telling him to fuck off. And the code.
I laugh, already climbing out of bed.
Julie
Poor Patterson.
Nick
Poor Patterson, nothing. His timing is absolute shit. Be there in 30?
Julie
