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“I don’t care. That was actually part of the plan. You know, in case you didn’t show up.”
Surprise registered in his eyes as his brows rose. “You’re brave.”
“I’m sorry.”
He reached up and ran a hand down the length of my hair. “I don’t hate you, P,” he said, searching my eyes, for what I had no idea.
“You don’t? But I—”
He placed a finger over my lips, and hope soared in my chest despite the mass of nerves fisting at the base of my spine.
“Did you mean everything you said in your texts?” he asked.
“Every word. When I went to your father, it was all a bluff. I know you have no reason to believe me, but even had he not offered my father his job back, I would never have—”
“I believe you.” He shook his head. “Maybe I shouldn’t, but I’ve thought a lot about what happened over these last weeks, and I realized that if your feelings were real, I wasn’t mad about the Julie thing, not really. In fact, it was a good thing you were her. It was the fact that you took my secret and used it as ammunition that hurt the most. The fact that you could betray me like that . . .” He sighed and reached down to grip my hands. “But I once asked you for a chance to prove myself, and you gave it even though I didn’t deserve it. It was my fault that your life at school has miserable for a long time, and for reasons that were a lot less noble than trying to save my family.”
I glanced down at my hands, feeling the sting of tears in the back of my eyes, and when he placed his fingers under my chin and tilted it, bringing my gaze up to his, he said, “And so it’s my turn to give you a chance. To give you the benefit of the doubt like you did for me.”
A rumble of both disbelief and excitement fluttered through the crowd, but I ignored it.
My lower lip trembled, unsure of what this all meant. Afraid to speak to the hope in my heart. “Friends?” I asked, but he shook his head.
“I want to be more than friends.” And then he kissed me.
Epilogue
PENELOPE
IwipedmysweatypalmsontheseatofmyjeansasweapproachedTopher’sfrontdoor.Dadtrailedbehindmewithabouquetofsunflowers—agiftforthehostess—wearinghisbestdressshirtandtie,eventhoughItoldhimitwasn’tnecessary.Meanwhile,Sarastucktomysidelikeglue,wide-eyedandburstingwithenthusiasmattheopportunitytospendThanksgivingwithmyboyfriendat“hismansion.”ThoughIsuspectedherexcitementwasmoreduetoherdesiretosnooparoundtheElliot’shomeandgrillhim.
Why did I agree to this again? Oh, right. Because Mrs. Elliot asked, and because I’ve discovered she’s as sweet as pie, so I couldn’t say no. And because I loved Topher Elliot.
I cleared my throat and rang the doorbell, then waited for Topher to answer.
“Do they have a butler?” Sara whispered.
“They’re notthatrich.” I rolled my eyes, even though they probably were that rich.
But Sara frowned, looking disappointed, so I added, “They have a maid though, and like, five cars.”
“Cool.” Sara brightened, and it was all I could do to stifle a laugh.
Suddenly, the door swung open, and I stared up into those familiar blue-violet eyes, and the nerves rioting in my chest turned into butterflies, swooping and fluttering in the most exhilarating way I hoped I never got used to.
“Hey, there.” Topher grinned down at me, and all I wanted to do was draw him in for a kiss, but my sister’s presence beside me reminded me I couldn’t.
“Hey.” I smiled, and Sara groaned beside me.
“Oh my gosh. Are you guys going to just stand there mooning at each other all day, or do we get to go inside and eat? I’m starving!”
“Sara!” Dad chastised from behind me, but one glance at him and I noted the laughter in his eyes.
Topher chuckled and stepped to the side, waving a hand. “Please, come in.”
Everyone piled inside and followed him through the yawning foyer. Though I’d been in his house now a dozen times, my father and Sara hadn’t, and I noted the awe in their expressions as we passed by the giant coat room, a reception room, and another formal family room until we finally reached the giant kitchen with the massive island, chef’s stove, complete with copper hood, marble countertops, and crystal light fixtures.
The opulence took some getting used to. I knew Sara would adjust quickly and only hoped my father would as well. The last thing I wanted was an awkward or uncomfortable dinner.
