“Sorry,” he mutters, but I’m not.
It’s the most alive I’ve felt in days.
He steps away the second he runs out of track, putting a healthy distance between us again, and I release the breath I was holding since he stepped up behind me.
After sliding on my shoes, I turn, running my hands down the front. The material is cool and soft against my skin, but it’s not what causes the goose bumps to break out over my arms. It’s his stare, the way he’s taking me in like he’s looking at me for the first time.
“Well?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
He swallows once, then twice.
Finally, he says, “You’re a fucking vision, Sunny.”
My cheeks flush, and my body ignites for the first time since I got the phone call about my father.
He holds his hand out to me. “Shall we?”
And I place my palm in his.
Noah and Odette are officially husband and wife, and I don’t think I’ve seen two people look more in love than they do.
The ceremony was beautiful, and I’m so glad I opted for waterproof mascara, because it was a necessity after those vows.
Now we’re all seated in the recently renovated barn on the Stick Taps property, and the cider is flowing. The food is great, but it could use a few tweaks to become incredible, and the people are just what I needed.
I think I’ve spoken to every person here, and they’ve all inquired about my father. It’s been emotional, and I’ve had to excuse myself more than once.
The whole time, Ezra’s stood by my side. Quietly, most of the time, but just knowing he’s there has made leaving my father behind a little easier.
Well, that and the texts he’s been sending every half hour.
Dad:Still alive.
Dad:No heart attacks yet.
Dad:Yep. You guessed it. I’m alive.
Dad:This is not a ghost texting you.
He’s lucky he’s not here, because I’d yell at him for that last one.
“Summer!” Izzy calls out, and I grin over at her. “Have I told you how incredible you look?”
Only five times. I’m pretty sure she’s had a few too many ciders, but it’s cute. She’s clearly happy for her brother and best friend.
“Ezra, doesn’t she look hot?”
“She always looks hot,” he says, and I don’t have to look at him to know his eyes are on me. I feel it. I have all night.
“Well, if you think she’s so hot, ask her to dance.”
“He doesn’t dance,” I say automatically.
“He can. If you want to, he can.”
I turn to Ezra. “Really?”
“Yes.” He stands, towering over me, and holds his hand out.
