“Fuck,” I say, scanning the options, my heart sinking into my stomach. “There’s nothing that will get me there in time. Wait!” I exclaim, opening a new tab. “I can charter a jet. That’s a thing people do, right? Shit, why am I not the fancy kind of athlete who knows how to do this kind of thing?” I mutter, scrolling through the search results, wondering if maybe Drew has a plane I can borrow. He owns all kinds of weird shit he never talks about. I wouldn’t put it past him to have gotten into aviation without telling anyone.
“Because you’re a non-asshole,” my mom says, picking up her phone and tapping at the screen. The look on her face has relief pouring through me because she has herI’ve got it handledface on. When Julie Parker has theI’ve got it handledface, she could single-handedly fight a war, or bring on world peace, depending on her particular mood at the time. She kicks so much ass and gets all the shit done.
“Gabe, is the plane in Pittsburgh?” she asks, pressing the phone to her ear. “Great. Tyler needs to borrow it for a couple days.” She pauses, laughing at whatever Gabe says on the other line. “Yeah, he needs to go profess his undying love to Sophie and tell her he’ll follow her anywhere. He was an idiot for a second, but he seems to have made a remarkable recovery. Oh, hey, Mol,” she says with a grin. “Yeah, I don’t know what he was thinking either, but we’re all good now, and I think he might be about to out-Asher Asher.”
“No one out-Ashers Asher,” my dad mutters.
“I’ll let him know,” my mom says with a laugh. “Love you, Mol. And thanks, Gabe.”
She ends the call and turns to me. “Allegheny County Airport, one hour,” she tells me. “Gabe wants me to tell you not to fuck this up or you’re on the hook for the cost of the flight, and Molly says this year’s cupcake better be the best one you’ve ever made because apparently Sophie is miserable without you.”
“Sophie told her that?” I ask, my stomach twisting, because I never want her to be miserable. Sophie should always, always, always be happy. I make a vow here and now that from this moment on she will be. I’ll make it my goddamn mission in life.
My mom rolls her eyes. “Of course not. Molly just knows. Why do you all think we don’t know anything? We’re moms and we’re women. We know every damn thing, and you all are just along for the ride.”
“Fuck, Juliette, you’re sexy when you’re going all,we ride at dawn.” My dad pulls her into his lap and kisses her neck, and that’s absolutely my cue to get the fuck out of here.
“Thank you,” I say, dropping a kiss on my mom’s head and squeezing my dad’s shoulder. “Thank Molly and Gabe for me, too.”
My mom takes my hand, kissing the top of it. “No thanks necessary. Just be happy, Tyler. And make Sophie happy too. Be happy together. That’s all any of us want for you.”
“Count on it,” I call, jogging up the stairs and making one quick detour before heading to the front door, my brain spinning with plans and excitement humming in my veins as each step I take gets me closer to my girl and the most epic birthday night of all time.
I hope you’re ready, Soph, I think with a grin.
It’s so fucking on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
SOPHIE
Me
I need to borrow the plane. In the next hour, if possible.
Spinning around my room like a tornado, I haphazardly toss things into my suitcase, cursing my inability to keep my shit contained. I’ve only been here for one night, and every surface of the room is covered in my stuff. Why I needed to bring six outfits for the interview when I already knew it would be the pink pantsuit is a mystery, as is the reason I thought ten pairs of underwear was the appropriate amount of underwear for a two-night stay. In retrospect, five pairs of pajamas was also probably overkill, and I could have left the two bathing suits at home. The pink mini dress too.
Where did I think I was going?
I have no idea, but I know where I’m going now, and that’s right the fuck home. Tonight, if possible. Although every sign right now points to that being not possible, that just isn’t going to work for me. When my phone dings with a message, I pounceon it, breathing a sigh of relief. My dad will fix it. He can fix everything.
Dad
Sorry, Soph, the plane is in Pittsburgh.
“What the fuck?” I mutter. The plane is never in Pittsburgh. It lives in San Francisco and makes special trips to Pittsburgh when my dad gets a wild hair to travel somewhere, usually to visit my brothers and sister when his empty nest starts feeling extra empty.
Me
What’s it doing there?
Dad
I was planning on taking your mom to the beach for an impromptu weekend away.
Me
It’s Tuesday.
