“Yes,” he says, his hand pulling out of my panties and leaving me cold. But before I can complain or step away, he points into the sky right above us.
“Look,” he says, tipping his chin toward the sky, and I gasp.
“Is that?—”
“A shooting star. Make a wish, June.” My breath catches, completely and totally blown away by this stroke of luck, another thing I’ve never experienced. Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath and try to think of something I want. But lately, it seems like everything is working out for me, and there’s not much to wish for.
Except for the one thing hanging over my head.
I wish I get the mural job.
It’s not that I need the money or even the notoriety. It’s just that Seaside Point is my town. It’s my grandparents’ town, and it’s my friends’ town, and it’s the place I love more than anywhere else in the world, and despite trying to play it cool, I want to leave my mark here. Maggie was right: it’s what my grandmother would have wanted.
In a way, it would also be a way to prove to my parents and to myself that I can have it all: the creativity, the drive, and the desire to create for a living, and to be there for the people I love. I have my hometown, family, and friends, and in my own way, I can have it all: I just have to make it work for me.
I let the wish go with a soft sigh, settling into Graham, and a sense of peace falls over me, knowing that it’s all in the hands of the universe, and that which will happen will happen.
“I’ve never seen a shooting star,” I say, turning in his arms to face him. He dips his head and presses his lips to mine.
“No?”
I shake my head.
“I’ve always wanted to. Just like the four-leaf clovers.” I let out a little laugh, shifting to press my lips to his cheeks. “I’m starting to think you’re my own lucky charm. Everything really has worked out for me since you came into my life.”
He lets out a small hum, and I lie back in his arms, content in the knowledge that everything really does work out for me before he takes me inside and fucks away the last of my bad day.
The next day is sunny, so I spend some time working on the mural on the beach. Since I’m a disaster and likely to get paint oneverything, I’ve taken to leaving my phone in the office while I paint. So it’s not until Graham and I are getting ready to go to lunch together that I check my notifications.
That’s when I notice a new email in my personal account. Thinking it’s probably junk, I tap on it to clear my inbox, then freeze.
“Oh my god,” I say low, staring at the small screen.
“June?” Graham asks, stepping out of his office and watching me with apprehension.
“Oh mygod!”I shout, continuing to stare at the screen. I tap out, then back in to confirm I’m not imagining things.
“What is it?” Graham asks, sounding more nervous now.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!”
“June, if you don’t explain, I’m going to—” Graham warns, voice low, but doesn’t get the chance to finish his threat because I turn to him, eyes watering.
“I’m a finalist,” I murmur, reading the email thanking me for applying to the Seaside Point mural project and asking if I’m available to present my proposed mural to the city council on Tuesday after Labor Day. “For the town’s mural project. I have to present early next month,” I whisper, my heart pounding.
“June! That’s amazing!” he says, moving to me and pulling me into his arms.
Instead of the anxiety I expected to feel if and when I got to this point, there’s just joy, plain and simple. I put my arms around him and hold tight, savoring this feeling before I pull back. Then, he presses his lips to mine, kissing me long and deep.
This is the reaction I secretly wanted when I sold my first painting, and I love that somehow, the universe is still letting me get my way. When he finally breaks the kiss, he presses his forehead to mine, and my chin wobbles a bit, overwhelmed by emotion.
“It was my wish,” I say through a tight throat. “On the shooting star. I wished that I would get this job.” My eyes are watering as I look up to Graham, who puts my hands to my face before pressing his lips to mine, soft and sweet.
“And you will, June,” he says when he pulls back. “You’ll get it, because everything works out for you. My lady luck, you’re going to have the whole world.”
And really, I must be the luckiest girl in the world to have a man in my life who gets me the way he does.
THIRTY-FOUR
