Epilogue
Jace
Three Months Later
Adulting hasn’t always been easy, but right now, I’m kinda loving it. My new car is sweet. It’s not new new. It’s a few years old, but it’s new to me. And it’s sitting in my boyfriend’s driveway. Correction. Our driveway.
I graduated a few weeks ago, and instead of moving back home, I moved in with Lannie. It made sense. My new job starts next week at the local medical center. I’m nervous and excited.
Lannie is perfect. Correction. Not perfect—how did I not know how messy he was? But he’s amazing. And he’s mine.
Today marks our first official day of sharing a home together, and for some reason, Lannie wants to wash our cars.
I scrub the bugs off my headlights as he rinses the side. “Are we playing Rook tonight? It is Friday.”
“What?” He turns toward me, but the hose is still on. I gasp as the cold water hits me. He laughs, turning off the water and holding the hose up. “Problem, babe?”
“You… You planned that.”
Then he winks. “Revenge is sweet.”
“That was five years ago. And an accident.”
“Oops,” he says with a shrug.
Is that how he wants to play this? I strip off my shirt. It’s a warm day, and it’s worth it to see that look in his eyes. Turned on but also unsure.
“Um, babe?”
“Yes?” I ask as I approach him, stretching my arms over my head.
When I reach him, I wrap my arms around his neck and press my wet body against his. I’m soaking his clothes, but he doesn’t push me away. Instead, he drops the hose and grabs my waist.
He shivers as I kiss his neck. “Jace, your parents are right next door.”
“They can shut their blinds,” I whisper against his mouth. And then I kiss him. He relaxes, getting into the kiss, and I make my move.
Dropping to the ground, I grab the hose and scramble away. “What now?” I point the hose at him.
His gaze flickers to something behind me. “Now? Your mom is here with a plate of cookies.”
“Right.” I don’t buy it. I know his tricks.
He smirks. “Your favorite. Gooey chocolate chip.”
“Nope. Try again.”
“I tried,” he says to the something behind me, but I still don’t believe him.
I spray him instead. Or try to. Several things happen at once. I spray the hose, and then Mom says my name. I turn, still spraying, and douse Mom with water. She sputters, never letting go of the cookies, and I drop the hose. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.”
She stares at me, her hair and clothes dripping. And the cookies… Some are a soggy mess, and the others are on the ground.
Lannie chuckles behind me—brave man—but I try to keep my composure.
“Mom—”
She shakes her head. “Is this any way to treat your new neighbors, Jace Smitt?”
“Not exactly new. But I’m sorry about the cookies.”
“The cookies aren’t the point.” She crouches to gather the cookies. Should I help her?
“What’s the point?” I ask instead.
She barely glances up. “Hospitality,” she says with a sniffle. “And…revenge.”
She grabs for the hose, and before I know what’s happening, I’m sprayed with cold water.
“Okay, neighbor lady. It’s on.”
We probably waste a lot of water trying to spray each other, but Mom finally gives up. Or rather, announces there are more cookies, but we have to come in to get them. “After you change into dry clothes.”
Lannie and I finish my car because I’m not leaving it half-done. Then we clean up, only getting a little sidetracked.
And then we go over to our neighbor’s house, eat hot, gooey chocolate-chip cookies, and play Rook.
We lose, of course. But winning isn’t the point.
Being with people who love you, even if they never let you win, even if you are family…
Right, family loving you no matter what.
That’s the point.