It’s a dangerous mindset to have right before a weekend of convincing everyone around us that I don’t feel a thing.
Annie and I scream when we see each other, launching into a hug so tight, anyone would think it’s been years since we’d last been together rather than two months. Gage makes a show of wincing and covering his ears, as if his hearing is in danger. Annie smacks him across the chest.
Even though it’s only been a couple of hours since he dropped me off at my parents’ house, my instinct is to run to him, too. It’s harder than I thought it would be to control the urge to brush his hair from his face or wind my arm around his waist, the kinds of things I can do so freely at camp but that definitely don’t have a place here.
I exchange hugs with Ted and Dawn, who are thrilled I came.
They ask me about my plans after the summer, and I’m careful not to look at Gage when I tell them breezily that I’m still figuring that out. I laugh as if my indecision stems from having too many options, rather than none.
As the party ramps up, it’s strange to be Delaney again. I’ve gotten so used to everyone calling me Olivia at camp—thanks to Gage—that I almost don’t recognize that “Delaney” is me. Ted’s Patriotic Punch doesn’t help. It isstrong, and I’m feeling the effects after one cup. At one point, Annie repeats the name Delaney three times before I respond, concern and curiosity written on her face as I deflect with a quip about Camp Prairie Star to the small circle of people around us.
Delaney is my name here in the real world. Delaney, who is cool and unbothered, confident even when she has no plans beyond the weekend. I slip into the role on the outside, but inside I’m a mess of doubt and insecurities.
Everyone wants to know what I’m doing after my position at Camp Prairie Star ends. Everyone wants to know if I’m dating anyone special. By the time Ted launches the fireworks show, my cheeks ache from holding this phony smile in place.
Annie, thankfully, doesn’t seem to notice, especially since I’m real with her about everything other than Gage when we’re alone. I assure my best friend that her brother and I are friendly, that we are capable of being together in the same room again.
Meanwhile, Gage and I all but avoid each other at the party, which is probably for the best when I don’t want to reveal our secret.
From across the yard, I watch Gage interact with his parents’ friends. I watch the way his mouth tips up in that adorable, charismatic smile of his. The way he really listens as an elderly neighbor talks to him, and he makes her feel like she’s the most important woman in the party to him at that moment.
I watch until my vision turns hazy with … tears, I realize with surprise. I blink them back, glad Annie went inside to use the restroom and can’t see me like this. She’d want to know what’s going on, and I can’t tell her that.
What’s going on is that I’m in love with Gage. Again. Still. Always.
But now I’m in love with the man he is today. The fun, thoughtful, sweet man I’m so proud he grew up to be. And at the same time, I’m in love with every version of him I’ve ever known. I see them all in his eyes, all wrapped up inside his perfect heart.
Chapter twenty-six
Gage
Asthepartywindsdown around eleven, Olivia offers to stay to help clean up. My parents insist she should head home, so I suggest walking with her since her parents left right after the fireworks. Plus, it gives me an excuse to say good night to her properly without prying eyes nearby.
Giving her space was torture. All I wanted was to have her tucked under my arm, to kiss her openly as fireworks exploded in the sky. I wanted everyone at the party to know she’s mine—not that she would admit that herself, but still.
So, when we get to her front door, I kiss her like I’ve wanted to all day. I back her up against the wall and devour her mouth with mine.
At first, Olivia pushes me away. “My parents,” she whispers.
I stroke her cheek with the side of my hand. “I’m sure they’re asleep.”
She looks unconvinced, but when I kiss a trail up her neck and nibble her earlobe, she buries her doubts. I nudge her chin with my nose and catch her lips again.
She giggles and pulls away. “It feels weird.”
“Gee, thanks,” I deadpan.
She hits her hand lightly across my chest. “No, I mean kissing you here. In front of my parents’ house. Not at camp.”
I press my lips to her neck. “Do you want me to stop?” I murmur.
“No.”
I smile against her skin, feeling the pulse of her heartbeat in her throat.
“But you don’t think it’s weird?” she presses.
“No. I’m happy kissing you anywhere.”
