Parker’s face softens, something achingly familiar settling into his expression—the same look he used to give me when I was little and scared and didn’t know how to be brave on my own. “It’s not leaving, it’s living. And that’s the only thing I ever wanted you to do.”
My pulse stutters. “Seattle is so far,” I whisper.
“So was Austin,” he says quietly. “And we survived that. We always planned to.”
My lips quiver. “I’m scared, Parker. What if I mess it up? What if—”
He smiles. “Then you mess it up. You learn. You keep going. That’s what living a life looks like, Lana. It’s full of mistakes andtwists and turns. But you’re not gonna mess it up. I know it.” His thumb wipes a tear from my cheek.
“But what if it doesn’t work out?”
“I’ll still be right here,” he says without hesitation. “I’ll always be your brother. That part doesn’t change just because you’re following your heart.” He pauses and his eyes take me in, as if he’s memorizing my face for the next part of this journey. He gives me a small nod. “Go to Seattle, Lana.”
I swallow hard, disbelief and elation mixing into one. “You’re really okay with this?”
“I’mmorethan okay with it,” he says. “I didn’t give up years of my life so you could stay stuck somewhere out of guilt. I did it so you could stand in that airport, scared as hell, and still get on the plane.”
He pulls a folded paper from his back pocket and hands it to me. My eyes scan over the words carefully.United Airlines flight 5208. Austin, Texas to Seattle, Washington.
“I stopped at the library on my way back from Barton Creek. Great mall, by the way.” He points to the paper. “Your flight leaves in a couple days. So, sorry, but you’ve got a little more packing to do.”
His lips tilt to one side, his eyes full of light and wonder.
My breath breaks. “I love you so much.”
“I know,” he says, his voice roughening just a little, emotion coating his eyes. “I love you right back, kid. Now go pack so we can grab some dinner. You’ve got me working on an empty stomach here, and I’m a growing boy.”
I huff out a laugh. “You’re twenty-seven, sir. You stopped growing a decade ago.”
“Tell that to the biceps,” he says, lifting his arm to show off the muscle before falling back onto his couch bed.
I roll my eyes and head to my bedroom, turning around just before the door.
“Hey…what about you? Where are you going from here?”
“Me?” He stretches his arms above his head, linking his hands behind it. “I gotta go see about a girl.”
My heart flutters as his sweet smile breaks through.
“Everyone gets a happy ending, Lana,” he says with a wink.
And I’ve never believed him more.
Track 23
“Unforgettable” Nat King Cole, 1951
June–JAKE
SEATTLE ISN’T A place—it’s a weather system. And that weather is rain. Perpetual, soul-soaking rain.
Of the 151 days I’ve lived here, it’s rained for over a hundred of them. Yes, I’ve counted. When the sky seems to be punishing you personally, you start keeping track of your sentencing.
But it isn’t just the rain that makes this place so miserable. It’s the gray. An endless, unbroken stretch of it. It’s thick and heavy, pressing down from the sky like it has nowhere else to be. Every day is gray. And cold. And damp. The kind that seeps into your bones and settles achingly deep. It sucks.
We’re riding up the elevator, and Brian is fulfilling his daily mantra—swearing now that it’s June, things will turn around. Every day he promises the sun will come out, and when another day ends without it, he promisestomorrow. Today is no different.
“Give the Annie bit a break, will ya?” I tell him as the doors ding open to the thirty-fifth floor. I step out in front of him.
