“Come on, honey. Time to get you home.”
She gives me the sweetest glare, still in a squat, and I try my best not to laugh.
“I’m not ready to go.”
“Remember what I told you before?” I ask, stepping closer and putting my lips to her ear. “You’re good and drunk, baby. I don’t need you tipping into the blackout zone before I get my fill of you.” Her breath hitches.
“Okay. We can go,” she murmurs, and I smile.
I shift, putting my hands on her waist, then bend and slide her over my shoulder. She giggles, and I wave goodbye to our friends as they laugh while I turn to the door, Willa over my shoulder.
“Told you it would happen,” Adam calls across the bar, and it reminds me of what he said that first night here, something I didn’t understand but do now. At the memory, I smile.
“Later,” I say.
“Bye, guys!” Willa calls.
“Girls’ night Tuesday!” Nat calls. “I want all the details!”
“Deal!”
Willa giggles from over my shoulder as I take her outside, then I take her home and make the night memorable, so she has something to share with the girls.
TWENTY-SEVEN
WILLA
In the final weeks I get to spend in Holly Ridge before I’m tossed back into reality, Leo and I fall into a routine, but it looks a lot different than it did months ago. I still wake up early, but I do it more often than not with Leo pressing kisses to my face. I still work out, but once I’m done, Leo waits to take a shower with me.
I still don’t drink the green juice.
Most days, we work on the house together, and almost every night, we sit out on the back patio or the porch swing after dinner. Most nights, Leo answers more emails, reads, or works in the garage on some kind of woodworking project, while I continue writing for the next album.
And I writeso much.
My muse is back with a vengeance, as if she’s making up for the time she was missing with song after song after song. I’ve never been so inspired in my life, and even though I know the source, I can’t help but feel in awe of it. After breakfast, I’ve gotten into the habit of playing whatever I worked on the night before with Leo there, something I’ve never done, but I like watching the awe on his face, like him finding little crumbs of our relationship in each song, and the way they make his facesoft. And I love the way he kisses me after, filled with so much love and adoration, it takes my breath away.
I’m cherishing each and every one of these mornings while I can, saving them up, as Leo told me to, to hold me over on the mornings I can’t have this.
Some mornings, we have coffee at home, but others we get it at the coffee shop down the way from the salon where Nat works, and that’s where we are in the morning. He orders for us while I look at the mugs and accessories for sale, eventually wandering to the community board in the corner. It usually has advertisements for tutoring, swim lessons, and fundraisers, but pinned dead center is a sign that catches my eye and reminds me of something I nearly forgot.
“Oh! Look! Wren was telling me about this,” I say as Leo moves up behind me, resting a hand on my hip.
“A fair?” he says with a skeptical tone. I lean my back into his chest, and he rests his chin on the top of my head before wrapping an arm around my waist. For a moment, I almost forget what I was talking about, melting into him and this moment instead. “When is it?”
“It starts tomorrow. According to Wren, they’re going to have food trucks, rides, and games.” Something clicks, and then I turn in Leo’s arms, giving him a wide-eyed look. “Do you think they’ll have a Ferris wheel?”
“A Ferris wheel?” he asks, face looking confused.
“Yeah, the thing with the seats that goes round and round.”
I use my free hand to imitate the motion of the ride in question, and he gives me a smile. One hand reaches up to brush hair back from my face.
“Willa, honey, I know what a Ferris wheel is. Why are you talking about it like it’s an alien spaceship?” I bite my lip, looking away and feeling that all-too-familiar embarrassment move through me. His hand, rough from working over the past fewmonths, captures my chin and tips it up until I have no choice but to look into his eyes. “Willa?” His eyes are soft, all humor gone as he takes me in.
“I’ve never been,” I say low, trying to remind myself that this is stupid, that there’s no reason to be embarrassed.
“On a Ferris wheel?”
