Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
“Excuse me, gorgeous.”
That deep, playful voice, a light Texan drawl. We were just together at lunch, but my mind, body, and heart light up at the sound of it. I spin around with a grin. My rabbit hole of darkness yesterday appears to be gone. For how long I don’t know.
Austin saunters toward me, workout shorts tight on his hips, hair damp from a recent shower. “I think you dropped something.”
I scan the ground. “What?”
“My jaw.”
A laugh bursts out of me. Before I know it, my arms are around his neck.
I am officially one of those obnoxiously blissful people—the kind who used to make me gag.
Days when my mind is finally better again are always great days.
Having my life back, myself back? What a gift.
And then compound that with the too-good-to-be-true Austin. An absolute dream come true.
His hands wrap around me, and he presses a kiss to my head, like I’m precious to him.
My fingers wander to his damp curls. This touchable mess of hair.
“Midday shower?” I ask. “Or did Levi talk you into swimming laps?”
“Shower. A Flooders thing.”
My stomach flips.
When a Flooder wins over a girl who’s a big deal to him, he gets thrown—fully clothed—into the communal shower. He must think I don’t know about that. As the story goes, those guys always end up marrying her. Levi got showered last semester when Kit finally came to her senses.
“Oh really?” I keep my voice light. “Did you get the girl?”
His smile fades. “I dunno. Did I?”
My mouth dries. I scrunch my nose, like it’s a silly question, like I’m not still an anxious wreck about our relationship. Like of course I just believed what he said to me in the Hundred Acre Wood and that’s that.
“Up for a walk?”
“Hm.” I stretch dramatically. “I’m feeling lazy.” I love a good walk, but I’d much rather finagle a kiss out of him.
He narrows his eyes, like he knows exactly what I’m up to.
Then with zero warning, he pivots around and drops to his knees.
The movement is careful—still mindful of the left knee he injured in high school—but the way he motions to his shoulders is not careful.
It’s spontaneous and confident and Austin.
“Wait. Really?” I’m already grinning.
“Really. Climb up.”
I clap in delight as he hikes up his sleeves.
Arranging my legs over his broad shoulders, my hands rest lightly on his head for balance. He stands easily, like I weigh nothing. No big deal—just carrying an entire person. This guy is my boyfriend. I am the queen of the world in all the ways.
“You’re the best,” I gush for the millionth time.
From up here, I can see his grin return.
“You’re not getting a big head, are you?” I pat his curls.
“I’m well on my way.”
He heads straight for the field across from Flooders. “Have you seen the latest?”
Two more letters today. T and … G.
YOU ARE
THE
GOL_EST
My gasp is so big, I have to steady myself on his shoulders.
“Any guesses?” he asks playfully. A light squeeze on my calves.
“Austin … it was you?” My voice is barely audible. “All this time?”
“I don’t know what would cause you to think that,” he deflects. “What’ll be your vote for the last letter?”
But I can’t speak. I gape at the campus-wide message. The secret message. For me. Thrill and wonder course through me.
I can’t keep it all to myself. I curl down to his ear, punctuating with kisses. “I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you did this. Thank you. I can’t believe it.”
“You’d better quit that.” He tugs on my ankle. “You might fall off this thing.”
A laugh shudders out in recognition, but my head is still spinning. “Let me down?”
“Already? I can—”
“Let me down.”
He kneels again, and I scramble to get off … and knee him in the side of the head! Like Hitch on a Jet Ski.
He winces. Clutches his ear.
“Ah! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
He’s still on his knees, chuckling, and lowers his hand. No blood.
I kiss all over his ear and face.
“I’m fine. I’m fine. You’re good, Soph.”
“Austin …” I motion to hangman, but no more words come out. I press on his shoulders and search his eyes, like he can telepathically explain.
“It’s your theme song.”
“I … But … Hangman. Is it the Flooders?”
His mouth opens. Shuts.
“Please, Austin. Just tell me.”
“No. But I have help.” He meets my eyes vulnerably. “It was always just for you.”
Just for me. All that? A storm brews in my head. It’s too much. It doesn’t make sense. It can’t be right.
“I meant to use it to ask you out, but then I decided it was too much pressure.” He scratches his neck. “In case you didn’t want that … I mean … us.”
I lower my forehead to his. “Why did you do this? I don’t …”
He slowly lifts to standing, wraps me up in his arms. Gently. Firmly. His head nuzzles into my neck as he murmurs. “Because you deserve it. Because you need to know. Because nothing is big enough to show you.”
Austin
Song of the day
“Done” by Chris Janson
Praying for Sophie on the way to the gym, I let out a jaw-cracking yawn.
I never used to be up this early, but it’s the only way to fit in a workout and Jesus time without slicing into my afternoons with her.
I huff a laugh when I catch Levi at the Albert doors—hair wet, post-swim.
He’s always been like this. Up before the sun. Swims like he was born in the water.
I hold out a fist bump as I pass him.
“Morning, buddy,” he says. “You’re up early again.”
“Must be done. Hey, can I run a grand gesture idea by you real quick?”
“For The Game?” Our code name, in case someone’s around.
“No, a new one.”
I 180 to follow him through the lobby, but he jerks his head toward the gym, already moving.
“Another grand gesture,” he says.
“I can head up with—”
“No.”
He doesn’t slow, doesn’t ask. Just expects me to keep up. I feel bad cutting into his morning routine for this, but he’s already on a mission.
“Walk, Samwise. Grand gesture?”
“What do you think about taking the gang up to Kit’s parents’ house for spring break?”
A worried line settles between his brows, but it disappears just as fast. “That’d be her Christmas morning. All her people in one place? You’d never hear the end of it.”
“Okay, sit back down on the couch, Tom Cruise.”
He laughs. “There’s a throwback reference. Does that make you Oprah?”
“I’ll take it.”
“I can ask Kit. Do you prefer it stay a surprise? You know she’ll take a secret to her grave, but her face is far from neutral.”
“Right. I want it to stay a surprise.”
He squints at me as we walk. He’s reading my mind. Dude’s super smart and cares a lot, so I can’t get out of it. “Just ask, Samwise. You know I want to help out.”
Nope. I hate asking favors. Hate it. I’ll figure out another way. “I need to talk to Haymitch about some more footwork drills at soccer practice,” I say, avoiding the subject. “I keep getting ahead of the ball.”
Levi’s brows rise in growing determination.
Shoot, he’s onto me.
“I’m barely helping with The Game,” he says.
“Finn’s on it. He’s been all in since you told him he could put ‘project manager’ on his résumé.”
Ethan—floor name Finn—turned my pie-in-the-sky idea into a full-blown thing.
Freshman, but he’s got more hustle than a kid at an Easter egg hunt.
I outlined it, and he ran with it—handling the socials, hauling poster boards, carrying the whole deal like it actually matters to him.
Grateful doesn’t begin to cover it. His anonymity made it possible, but he doesn’t seem to value that. After this, it’s gone.
“I wasn’t just saying that,” Levi says. “If Flooders were a fraternity, he’d get an official title for his prank involvement alone. Now stop changing the subject.”
“I still hate that he’s doing so much of the work for my thing.
I need to let him pick a message. But I know he’ll pick something Flooders-related, and then it’ll be over.
” Cue the campus-wide eye roll. They’ll see it all as just another Flooders prank.
And that’s fine—my guys would eat it up.
But this was never about them, and I need all the credit I can get with Sophie.
“Maybe two more for Sophie, and then I let Finn have the last hurrah and take the credit for the Flooders message. Does that seem fair?”
“Samwise. Focus.”
The runaround never works with him. Haymitch coined it—Levi is a dog with a bone.
“Should we talk about when I showed up at this crazy place with a single bag and had literally never done a load of laundry?” he demands.
I roll my eyes.
“You taught me everything, man. Not just vacuuming and epic sandwich making and how to function without a staff, but how to be down to earth. How to be like Jesus. I owe you. Now start talking.”
“You paid me back and then some. The only reason I had a shot with Sophie was because of what you taught me.”
“False. Now speak.”
“Fine. I don’t know how to get us up there. To Colorado.”
It’d be messed up to leave Haymitch and Mia out.
And neither of them can afford a plane ticket.
I could cover theirs, but that’d clean me out until summer.
My painting job won’t start up again till then, and I really should be applying for summer internships instead.
But those pay nothing. I rub a hand over my face. Money sucks.
“Oh, that’s it?” Levi says. “You don’t need a kidney?”
“Cute.”
“Let’s see. Assuming Mia and Haymitch want to join, we can drive the Rover or I can buy us all flights—”
I lift my hands. “Whoa. Buy all our plane tickets? No. I’d pay you back for the other four of us. I just know it will drain me until the summer, and Sophie’s love of adventure isn’t exactly cheap.” It all spills out. “But I’d pay you back. Maybe by mid-June?”
“No.”
I exhale. Here we go.
“The problem with driving,” he says, “is Kit will be nervous that we’ll run into rain. Especially that time of year.”
“Yeah, I thought of that.”
“She’s managed some road trips, but the Rover’s also pretty tight for six on a—what?—twenty-hour car trip?”
“Fifteen, but—”
“Problem with flying is Kit gets nervous when I spend money.”
“Huh?”
“She wants me to be happy.”
I glance over. He’s dead serious, but I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“Letting the money flow is a great way to destroy a life. She knows, and I know, and she keeps me honest. For you I’d do it without hesitation. You haven’t asked me to spot you a dollar in two and a half years. But it feels like her money too …”
Whoa. He is sure she’s The One.
“… So I’d like to find a way to run it by her.”
“Except I—”
“No. I want to cover the tickets, Samwise. Cut it out.”
“Dude. I couldn’t accept that. You’re not listening—”
“I’m calling it now—Sophie’s it for you. And when I’m right, I want wedding-toast rights. Or at least a permanent spot in the group text.”
I chuckle. “Eh. You can come as Kit’s plus-one. That’s all I’m promising.”
He pushes me off the sidewalk.
Bro wants to bankroll my grand gesture. Fly all six of us to Colorado. What does a guy even say?
“But really. That’s so cool of you, Jeeves. You’re a real one. But I don’t want you to think—”
“No, you are. And I don’t.”