“Hallie,” Jesse says, but Hallie ignores it, lifting an eyebrow at Leo. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Leo grabs a ball, winds his arm up, and throws it, hitting the top bottle off, though the rest stay perfect. Emma lets out a hiss, but Hallie laughs.
“Oof, god, Leo, you suck at this.”
He looks over his shoulder and glares at her.
“Hallie,” Jesse repeats his warning, but his own lips are tipped in a smile.
“You’ve got this, babe!” I encourage, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He looks down at me, a hint of exasperation on his face. He throws and misses the next one, which makes Hallie hoot with laughter. On the third throw, he hits another, leaving four still standing.
“It’s a scam,” Leo grumbles, glaring at the bottles. It’s clear there is some kind of product keeping them from all tumbling easily.
“Willa’s got a great arm,” Hallei says with a smile. “She should try.”
“Oh, yes!” I say, clapping. “Let me try!” Leo sighs, shaking his head, and handing me the ball. I grip it, tossing it once in the air before throwing, no real hope that it will work.
But somehow I hit the bottom-center bottle. I watch, holding my breath as they shake, and then…all of the bottles fall.
“Yes!” Hallie yells.
“You did it!” Emma calls.
“Oh my god!” I say, jumping up and down, locking my arms around Leo’s neck. He smiles down at me, shaking his head.
“I can’t believe you just did that,” he grumbles, but he does it with a smile, one that stays as he points to which toy I want. Once we have it, all five of us walk off towards the zeppole tent for Hallie. She found out I’d never had one and insisted she fix that immediately. We’re standing off to the side while the little King family waits in line.
“It was rigged for sure,” Leo says, an irritated groan, but still, he carries the giant otter for me. I step into his space, putting my arms around his neck.
“I know, baby. But don’t worry: I’ll still let you do whatever you want with me tonight,” I murmur into his ear, then press a soft kiss to his neck, let my tongue dip out to taste him as I do. His body stills, and for a moment, I wonder if I said the wrong thing, but then his head turns, and he looks down at me, fire in his eyes.
“After you eat this zeppole, anything else you want to do here?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Did you get your fill of a town fair, or am I good to drag you home and get my prize?”
I let out a loud laugh before pressing my lips to his.
We don’t spend much longer at the fair.
TWENTY-EIGHT
WILLA
We get one more week of peace.
One more week of laughing and working on Leo’s house together.
Another night at the Mill with the crew. One evening, I get wrangled into a girls’ night, which turns out to be just helping Wren organize and prepare her fall decorations. That night, I get my first glimpse at how chaotic Wren gets with holidays, something Adam has warned me about, and excitement floods me at the mere idea of spending a Christmas in Holly Ridge.
But on Sunday night, I lie in Leo’s bed in his arms and wrestle with the understanding that tomorrow, it all ends. Tomorrow, I go back to the city, back to being Willa StoneTM. Tomorrow, I leaveJust Willaand Holly Ridge and nights at the Mill and chaotic girls’ nights and everything I’ve come to love about this place, even if it’s only for a little while.
But most of all, I lose Leo.
I, of course, have taken breaks before, though they’ve never been this extensive in degree of visibility or in length. As far as I can remember, the longest I’ve ever lain low like this was for a month, and at the end of it, I was absolutelyitchingto getback to work. To get back to the appearances, the smiling, the performing, the building of my brand.
For the first time in my life, I’m not overly eager to go to work. For the first time, I’m not seeing it as a return to my real life, but to a fake one, curated to benefit my career, not necessarily myself. Three months ago, that thought alone would have sent overwhelming guilt moving through me, guilt from feeling like I didn’t appreciate all that I have, the life people would kill to experience, but now, I’m realizing it’s okay to want more out of life, that it doesn’t make me ungrateful or spoiled to wish for balance.
“I don’t want to go back,” I whisper into the dark room, my head on Leo’s chest, his fingers moving through my hair. I didn’t mean to say that aloud, but the thoughts have been moving through my head over and over and over until eventually, they slipped out past my lips.
