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“Strange thing is,” I say, then laugh, “I actually feel like I’ve finally found it.”

He lets out a long, wistful sigh into the phone. “Jonah, Jonah, Jonah. Gay gods help you, my friend, I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

I grin.

I’ve never felt more certain.

Finale - Kent

I rest my chin on my hand, tired after serving yet another one of our five-star funnel cakes to yet another happy-faced tourist. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad they’re happy and everything. It’s sorta my job: serving happiness in a ten-thousand-calorie basket of powdered-sugar hell and decadence.

It’s kinda my thing.

But I’ve already got an oil stain on the too-short, tight sleeve of my striped uniform shirt, and I’m nursing a wicked cramp in my left hamstring from a bunch of stuff I had to carry in from our latest shipment of supplies that came in an hour ago. Oil doesn’t come out easily, so I’m probably going to live with it for the rest of eternity.

Just like the stench of the fryer, sticking by my side like an annoying companion dog.

And Malik, who’s been on my ass all day about every little thing.

And the pesky customers, who …

Wait a second.

Who the hell’s that?

Standing by the wooden railing of the boardwalk is a handsome young man in a button-up shirt that’s half open, with slacks and fancy-ass dress shoes. The wind has done a number to his hair. He stares at me through the crowd.

I lift my head up at once and stare back, wide-eyed.

Jonah …?

My attention caught, a satisfied smile crosses his face, and damn it’s sexy. He ever so slowly begins to saunter my way. As he approaches, he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt even further, one button at a time—pop, pop, pop, pop—revealing his undershirt, letting the wind nearly take his dress shirt away like it once snatched a towel from him, exposing him to me.

I have a line of customers, but they’re forgotten to me entirely as I lift the partition in the counter and come out of my booth. The customers watch, quickly noticing that something rather peculiar and noteworthy is occurring before their eyes, a spectacle, a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

I close the distance between us. “Jonah?”

In front of me now, he peels off his dress shirt the rest of the way, then pitches it at the ground. “Kent,” he says.

“What’re you doing here? I didn’t know you were just gonna show up out of nowhere!”

“Neither did I. I literally just walked out of my job. Quit. Just like that. And I drove here with nothing but my car and what I’m wearing.”

“What??”

“Yep. I didn’t even pack a toothbrush.”

I stare at him, completely at a loss for words.

He smiles. “I’m free.”

“Free …?”

“From my job. From my life. From everything that held me back all these years. I was trapped, Kent. I was trapped in a life I didn’t want. Working for a soulless company that was draining me of every last drop of joy I had. I came to a realization this week. That place? It’s not really my home. It never was. I didn’t know what ‘home’ meant until I came here … to this magical place … and met you.”

I think I literally just heard a pair of customers sigh with happy delight in the line near us. We’re in a romantic comedy suddenly, and everyone within earshot is listening to Jonah’s proud, slightly-crazed declaration. Even Malik, who probably emerged from the back to find out why the line stopped moving, is now taken by the scene, watching from the counter with dreamy eyes.

What in the hell is my life right now?

“Jonah, I can’t believe you just—”

“I’m not going to wait for a job to give me time to live my life. I’m going to give myself the time. I’m in charge of my life. This is what I want. You are what I want.”

The music from a live band performing somewhere on the beach reaches our ears. I can almost imagine in some parallel universe that the band could be my dad and his old friends, living out a dream he was too chicken shit to pursue. Is that what this is with Jonah right now?

Is this what it looks like to chase what you want?

“I know we said we were going to try and make plans to see each other,” he admits. “I … kind of acted on an impulse. I don’t even know where I’m going to stay. I sure hope there’s a vacancy somewhere, ‘cause I’m not kidding when I say I literally planned none of this.” His eyes go wide. “What if there are no vacancies? It’s Saturday.”

I come out of my state of shock. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered, Jonah. You’ve always got a place to stay.”

He lifts his eyebrows. “I do?”

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