Chapter 27 – Willa
TWENTY-SEVEN
WILLA
In the final weeks I get to spend in Holly Ridge before I’m tossed back into reality, Leo and I fall into a routine, but it looks a lot different than it did months ago.
I still wake up early, but I do it more often than not with Leo pressing kisses to my face.
I still work out, but once I’m done, Leo waits to take a shower with me.
I still don’t drink the green juice.
Most days, we work on the house together, and almost every night, we sit out on the back patio or the porch swing after dinner. Most nights, Leo answers more emails, reads, or works in the garage on some kind of woodworking project, while I continue writing for the next album.
And I write so much.
My muse is back with a vengeance, as if she’s making up for the time she was missing with song after song after song.
I’ve never been so inspired in my life, and even though I know the source, I can’t help but feel in awe of it.
After breakfast, I’ve gotten into the habit of playing whatever I worked on the night before with Leo there, something I’ve never done, but I like watching the awe on his face, like him finding little crumbs of our relationship in each song, and the way they make his face soft.
And I love the way he kisses me after, filled with so much love and adoration, it takes my breath away.
I’m cherishing each and every one of these mornings while I can, saving them up, as Leo told me to, to hold me over on the mornings I can’t have this.
Some mornings, we have coffee at home, but others we get it at the coffee shop down the way from the salon where Nat works, and that’s where we are in the morning.
He orders for us while I look at the mugs and accessories for sale, eventually wandering to the community board in the corner.
It usually has advertisements for tutoring, swim lessons, and fundraisers, but pinned dead center is a sign that catches my eye and reminds me of something I nearly forgot.
“Oh! Look! Wren was telling me about this,” I say as Leo moves up behind me, resting a hand on my hip.
“A fair?” he says with a skeptical tone. I lean my back into his chest, and he rests his chin on the top of my head before wrapping an arm around my waist. For a moment, I almost forget what I was talking about, melting into him and this moment instead. “When is it?”
“It starts tomorrow. According to Wren, they’re going to have food trucks, rides, and games.” Something clicks, and then I turn in Leo’s arms, giving him a wide-eyed look. “Do you think they’ll have a Ferris wheel?”
“A Ferris wheel?” he asks, face looking confused.
“Yeah, the thing with the seats that goes round and round.”
I use my free hand to imitate the motion of the ride in question, and he gives me a smile. One hand reaches up to brush hair back from my face.
“Willa, honey, I know what a Ferris wheel is. Why are you talking about it like it’s an alien spaceship?
” I bite my lip, looking away and feeling that all-too-familiar embarrassment move through me.
His hand, rough from working over the past few months, captures my chin and tips it up until I have no choice but to look into his eyes.
“Willa?” His eyes are soft, all humor gone as he takes me in.
“I’ve never been,” I say low, trying to remind myself that this is stupid, that there’s no reason to be embarrassed.
“On a Ferris wheel?”
I lift one shoulder. “Yeah. Or to a fair.”
“Really?” he asks, disbelief in the single word. “You’ve never been to a fair? That’s, like, an American tradition.”
I tip my head ot the side, sifting through memories before shaking my head.
“No, actually, I sang at one when I was nine or ten. But then we went home.”
Annoyance moves over Leo’s face, not directed at me, but once again directed at the people in my life that he believes wronged me.
“Let’s go,” he says, simple as that.
“Go?”
“To the fair tomorrow. Let’s go. It’ll be fun.”
I bite back an excited smile, trying to be normal, since he didn’t exactly sound excited about it earlier.
“Oh, there’s no need. We don’t have to go just because I said—”
“It would be for me,” he says, and I give him a look that tells him I don’t believe his lie at all. “I’m serious. A new experience. I’ve never taken a woman to the fair. I’ve surely never kissed her on top of the Ferris wheel. It’ll be a new experience for both of us.”
I love that about Leo. How he not only wants to give me new experiences but also never makes me feel silly or ungrateful, and how he makes it something new for both of us.
“Really?’ I ask, hope filling my chest.
“You want to go?” I bite my lip, feeling silly, but— “Honest answer, Will.”
I nod.
“Then we’ll go.”
“Can we, like, do stuff on the Ferris wheel?” I ask the following night as we stand in line to board the Ferris wheel at the town fair.
It’s not a big one at the ones I’ve seen in pictures, but considering it surely wasn’t in the middle of town this time last week, I’m still impressed that such a big ride has made its way to Holly Ridge.
We arrived an hour ago and hit up four different food trucks, even though there was no way two people could eat that much food.
Leo decided I needed to try all of the fair food, so we got a little bit of something from everywhere: a place that did meat on a stick, a deep-fried spiral potato, a gyro, and a corn dog.
I’m already eyeing up the other trucks for desserts, but right now we have wristbands to ride as many rides as possible.
“No,” he responds quickly and fiercely. I sigh and roll my eyes.
“You’re such a party pooper.”
“Will, I’ll bend a lot of rules to make you happy, and if you want me to finger you or eat you out or fuck you hard, I’ll happily get right back in that truck and head home to do it. But I am not doing that in a crowded town fair in front of hundreds of people.”
“Party pooper,” I pout, and he shakes his head, letting out a laugh.
“You’re a nut,” he murmurs, pulling me into his side and pressing his lips to my hair.
“Next!” the man at the front says, and I almost squeal with excitement as we move forward and are ushered onto a small cart, then locked inside. We go around and around, moving as others are let on. Leo holds me close and laughs as I point out all of the sights from the wheel.
Finally, the wheel stops at the top, and I stare out across this tiny town I’ve begun to feel like I belong in.
People mill around; laughter dances through the night air, with cheers, music, and the sounds of people winning games.
Leo’s arm is around my waist, and he tugs me in close to his side, the tiny cart rocking a bit as he does.
I look up at him, and his head dips as he presses his lips to mine and kisses me at the top of the Ferris wheel.
And in that moment, I realize I am head over heels in love with Leo Sinclaire.
And it’s not just the kiss, or the Ferris wheel, or the fair.
It’s the way he’s gentle with me and the way he pushes me.
The way he wants to protect my soft parts, but also pull out the rough ones, the way he draws out what he calls my backbone.
It’s the way he’s patient with me when he’s teaching me something I should already know, and the way he understands when I need my space.
It’s the look on his face when I sing to him, and the one on his face when I get excited.
It’s the way he holds me at night and the way when we’re out and about, even if it’s just in the front yard, his eyes are always on me, he always has tabs on me.
It’s the way he shows me he loves me every single day, not in grand gestures or expensive outings or gifts, but in small moments that mean more to me than anything else in this world.
It’s the way that I realize right here, right now, that I would give it all up if it meant I got a lifetime for small moments like this, but also, that I know he would never make me do that.
My heart is pounding when he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine, closing his blue eyes and taking in a deep breath like he’s trying to savor this moment. But when he opens his eyes, I’m given another reason why I’m completely gone for him: because we’re on the same page.
“I love you, Willa,” he whispers, the words echoed by a scream of kids on a roller coaster. The lump in my throat swells along with my heart in my chest. It’s simple, basic, almost as if he already says it a million times a day, and I realize it’s because he does, just not with words.
With actions.
“I love you, Leo Sinclaire,” I say through a watery smile, and before he can say anything else, I lean up, laying my hand on the back of his neck and pulling him back down to me to kiss the love of my life again, with an awkward, toothy kiss because we’re both smiling wide when we do.
At the top of a Ferris wheel in a tiny town I’ve learned to call home, I finally have it all.
“Oh my god!” I squeal, pointing to the giant otter hanging from a clip at one of the game vendors.
It’s so cute!” My fingers are twined with Leo’s, as they have been the entire night, and even though I’m sure it’s more than just the locals here at the fair, in the dark, neither of us felt like we had to keep the PDA to a minimum, because this version of me doesn’t scream Willa Stone.
For the first time in my life, I’m incredibly grateful for the strict brand that I’ve stuck to for the past ten years, because it makes the real me almost unrecognizable.