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She laughs, her body relaxing against mine. “Me either. But you have to admit, we tag-teamed everything pretty damn well.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“And, to celebrate, I think we should try out that new Mexican restaurant on Mayview Street. Have you seen the advertisements for it?”

“I agree. How about Tuesday night? I should get out of practice a little earlier than I will tomorrow.”

“Tuesday night it is.”

I take her hand, lacing our fingers together, and head inside. Poppy plops down on the sofa, and I grab her a Dr Pepper and me a bottle of water before joining her. She stretches her legs over my lap and pulls the blanket from the back of the sofa over her.

“Seeing Branch so … wrecked broke my heart,” she says as I place our drinks on the coffee table. “I think seeing his dad like this fundamentally changed something inside him.”

“He’s always been really close with his parents. He tried to buy them a house when he got his first big check, but they refused. They still live in the little house he grew up in.”

She smiles. “I tried to get my mom to move here with me when Dad died. She wouldn’t leave her house, either. Said there were too many memories there and she couldn’t imagine leaving them behind.”

“I get that.”

“Me, too. But even though she has my grandma and aunt Carmen there, I still hate the idea of her living alone.” She frowns. “But she told me the last time I brought it up that if I mention it again, she’s going to move my grandmother in with me so I’m not alone.”

I laugh, rubbing her feet. “I like the way she plays.”

“She thought she was cute.”

“I think that’s what bothered Branch so much,” I say. “He thought he’d have more time with his dad, and then that foundation was ripped out from under him.”

Poppy stills. “I think about that all the time.”

“What part?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, worrying that I’ve pushed a little too far. This is in the realm of emotions that Poppy avoids like the plague. But she’s been so much more open lately that the question came off my tongue without the extra second of processing that I usually take.

She sighs. “I thought I’d have more time with my dad, too. I had so many plans for us and so many things I needed to still thank him for. But he died before I could.” She gazes up at me with her eyes filled with unshed emotion that strikes my heart. “I didn’t know if I’d ever feel sturdy again. And then I met you.”

My mouth goes dry as I watch her fight with her feelings. I’m gobsmacked at her honesty, but even more by the trust it takes for her to tell me this. This is the most open she’s ever been with me.

“You’re the first person since Dad who’s always there for me whether I deserve it or not,” she says softly. “You answer when I call. You always show up, and you never judge me—out loud, anyway. You’re way too good for me, Finn.”

“Stop it,” I say, sliding a hand under the blanket and guiding her onto my lap. My heart cracks at her tone—like she really believes what she’s saying. “I show up for you because I want to. Because you’re the person I want to spend my time with, not because I expect you to earn it before you get to deserve it.”

She settles against me, her pulse racing. “This is the only place I’ve felt safe since my dad died.”

Oh, Pop. The wobble in her tone kills me, and I hold her tighter. Then the tears begin to drip down her face, and I swear I feel every single one of them.

“Hey,” I say, using the pads of my thumbs to dry her face. “It’s okay.”

She laughs softly through the tears. “I’m such a baby. Just look at me.”

“I am looking at you. And I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

As if looking into my eyes is a step too far, she rests her cheek against my chest again. I sigh, holding her close, wondering when I’ll ever consider it okay to let her go.

“This is why the foundation is so important to me,” she says after a long moment of silence. “It’s my way of thanking my parents for all they did for me. For being my foundation, I guess. For putting off their lives to make mine better.” She exhales. “I think about that a lot, too. I put off a lot of things in my life and think I’ll get to it, or I’ll deal with it later. Maybe this thing with Leon is a wakeup call for all of us.”

“You might be right.”

I find myself thinking about Branch’s words again, about how quickly things can change. How easy it is to convince yourself that there’s always more time. And I wonder for the first time if maybe I’ve been too focused on what comes next and not focused enough on what’s already here.