Page 151 of Sweet Distraction

Two figures sitting on the grass. One small. One broad-shouldered and relaxed. They both have ice cream cones in their hands, and a bright pinwheel is pushed in the grass in front of them.

Poppy is the first to spot me.

She jumps to her feet and holds her cone high like a torch before running toward me.

I’m afraid if I blink, they’ll vanish, but Rocket stands slowly, his eyes locked on mine like they never stopped looking.

“I brought a bribe,” he says and holds out one of the cones as Poppy wraps her free arm around my leg.

“Hello, Popstar. I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me too,” she whispers and then giggles.

“Well, two bribes, technically,” Rocket says, gesturing his head at the tiny person still holding my leg.

“A bribe?” I whisper.

“I figured if I showed up with sugar and wind toys, you might not slam the door in my face.”

I shake my head, laughing through tears I can’t hold back. “You never even knocked.”

His smile is small, crooked. Nervous. “I didn’t want to assume I had the right. Not after . . . well, after everything.”

He steps closer, slowly, carefully. “I fought today. For Poppy. For you. For us. You would’ve been proud of me.”

“I know. I was there. You were incredible,” I say.

“You were?”

I nod, words escaping me, and something in him crumples. But it’s not weakness. It’s surrender.

He reaches out for my hand and touches me. All those sparks, those embers, come roaring back to life.

“I love you, Willow,” he says, voice breaking. “I love this girl, and I love the life we didn’t mean to build but did anyway.”

My breath hiccups on a sob.

“I thought letting you go would protect you, but all it did was break me.” He leans over and presses a kiss to Poppy’s head before looking back at me. “So . . . if there’s even a part of you that still wants this, wants me, then come back with us. Come home.”

Poppy squeezes my leg tighter—no doubt getting her melting ice cream everywhere, but I don’t care. This is my happiness. This is my home. This is all I ever wanted.

“Come home, Wiwwow,” Poppy says.

Three simple words, but they mean the world to me. They show just how far we’ve come. I throw my head back and laugh, and then lean over and press a kiss to the top of her head before standing up and brushing one against Rocket’s lips.

“Wiwwow, huh?” Rocket says and quirks an eyebrow as he places a hand on my lower back. He looks down at Poppy happily sandwiched between us, looking up and grinning with ice cream all over her face. “I love it.”

I smile and pull them both in a little closer.

“Home,” I whisper.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

Rocket

The couch is too small for all three of us, but no one seems to care.

Willow’s legs are draped across mine, and Poppy is curled between us like the perfect little wedge she is. Her hair smells like strawberries, and her frilly pink pajamas are halfway tucked into the throw blanket she insisted on sharing with both of us.