Chapter 23
Maya
"They're here," I announce unnecessarily, since Harper and I have been watching for Dad's ancient Ford pickup through the living room window for twenty minutes.
"Breathe," Harper reminds me, squeezing my shoulder as she heads for the door. "They love you. They're proud of you. And they're probably more nervous than you are."
Somehow I doubt that, considering my hands are shaking and I've changed outfits three times this morning.
The door opens to reveal my parents looking exactly like themselves but somehow smaller than I remember.
Mom's graying hair is pulled back in her usual practical ponytail, and she's wearing the floral blouse she saves for "occasions.
" Dad's in his good jeans and the button-down shirt Mom bought him for Christmas years ago, his weathered hands clutching a covered casserole dish like an offering.
"Maya, sweetheart." Mom's voice breaks slightly on my name, and seeing tears in her eyes makes my own throat tighten with unexpected emotion.
"Hi, Mom." The words come out small, and suddenly I'm seventeen again, trying to explain why I was applying to colleges three thousand miles away.
But then Mom's arms are around me, and she smells like coconut and the lavender soap she's used for as long as I can remember, and suddenly it feels like too much time has passed.
"We've missed you so much," she whispers against my hair. "When Mrs. Patterson called about the festival work, I cried for an hour just knowing you were home."
Dad clears his throat behind her, and I pull back to find him watching us with that soft expression he gets during Hallmark commercials. "Hey, kiddo. You look good. Happy."
"I am happy," I tell him, and realize with a start that it's completely true. "Come in, please. I've got coffee and—"
"Lucas," Mom says suddenly, her face lighting up as she spots him coming down the stairs. "Oh my goodness, look at you."
I turn to see Lucas approaching with the kind of careful politeness that means he's terrified but trying to hide it. He's wearing dark jeans and a blue button-down that brings out his eyes, and he looks devastatingly handsome and utterly uncomfortable.
"Mrs. Bennett, Mr. Bennett." He extends his hand to Dad first, who shakes it with the firm grip of a man assessing his daughter's choice in men. "Good to see you both. Sorry it's taken so long, we've been busy with festival prep. Glad to hear you'll be there."
"Wouldn't miss it," Dad says, holding the handshake just long enough to make his point. "Especially now that we know our Maya's been keeping such important news from us."
Heat floods my cheeks. "Dad—"
"Now, Harold," Mom interrupts, swatting Dad's arm before turning to Lucas fondly. "Lucas, honey, you don't need to be so formal. I remember you two in high school, always studying together at the library, thick as thieves."
"Mom," I groan, but Lucas actually smiles. A real one, not the polite mask he was wearing.
"I remember," he says, relaxing slightly. "Maya always let me copy her homework."
"And you walked her to class every day senior year," Mom replies with a knowing smile. "I should have known then that you two would end up together eventually."
The casual acceptance in her voice—like Lucas and I being together is not only natural but inevitable—makes something warm unfurl in my stomach. This is what I've been afraid of? This gentle teasing and obvious approval?
"Well," Dad says, still studying Lucas with paternal intensity, "I suppose we should discuss your intentions regarding our daughter."
"Dad!" I yelp, mortified, but Lucas straightens his shoulders and meets Dad's gaze directly.
"I intend to love her, protect her, and support her dreams for as long as she'll let me," he says simply. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
The sincerity in his voice makes my eyes prick with tears, and I see Mom press her hand to her heart like she's trying to contain her emotions.
Dad nods slowly, then claps Lucas on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble slightly. "Good answer, son. Now, where's my grandbaby?"
"DAD!" I shriek, while Lucas turns approximately the color of a tomato and Harper dissolves into laughter behind us.
***
Three hours later, after my parents have finally stopped embarrassing me and headed home with promises to see us at the festival tomorrow, Harper and June have transformed Harper's living room into what looks like a pre-event command center.
Fabric samples cover every surface, my festival outfit hangs from the curtain rod like a beacon of tomorrow's terror, and June is wielding a curling iron like she's preparing for battle.
Lucas had the right idea retreating to his bar after my folks left. This is ridiculous.
"Sit," Harper commands, pointing to the chair they've positioned in front of her full-length mirror. "We're making you festival-ready."
"I'm already ready. Besides, it's not until tomorrow!" I protest, but sink into the chair anyway because arguing with Harper when she's in organizational mode is like arguing with a hurricane.
"You're Maya-ready," June corrects, plugging in the curling iron. "We're making you Lucas-Mason's-girlfriend-ready. There's a difference."
"A big difference," Harper agrees, pulling out enough makeup to supply a small theater production. "Half the town is going to be watching you two tomorrow, and we want them to see exactly how perfect you are together."
The thought of being on display in front of the entire community makes my stomach flutter with nerves. "What if I mess something up? What if I trip during the stupid dance or—"
"Maya." Harper's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "Breathe. You've lived here most of your life. These people love you."
"They love the idea of me," I correct. "The girl who went away and came back successful. What if they realize I'm just the same socially awkward mess I always was?"
June appears beside my chair with a knowing smile. "Honey, you realize Lucas fell in love with your socially awkward mess, right? And so did this whole town. You're not performing tomorrow, you're just being yourself."
Before I can argue, there's a soft knock on the back door. Harper checks her phone and grins. "That'll be Lucas. I texted him to come get you for a walk before dinner."
"A walk?" I look between my two friends suspiciously. "You two are up to something."
"Us?" June asks with exaggerated innocence, but she's already pushing me toward the door. "We would never interfere in your love life."
"Right," I mutter, but my heart does a little skip at the thought of seeing Lucas after the emotional intensity of earlier.
I find him waiting on Harper's back porch, hands shoved in his pockets, looking nervous in a way that immediately puts me on alert. Lucas doesn't do nervous unless something's really wrong.
"Hey," I say softly, stepping outside and closing the door behind me. "Everything okay? You look like you're about to tell me someone died."
"No one died." He runs a hand through his hair, then looks at me with those blue eyes that always make my knees weak. "I just... I have something for you. And I'm terrified you're going to think it's too much, too soon."
My heart starts beating faster. "What kind of something?"
Instead of answering, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box that makes my breath catch. Not the right shape for an engagement ring, but definitely jewelry-sized.
"Lucas," I whisper, staring at the box like it might explode.
"It's not what you think," he says quickly, reading the panic that must be written all over my face.
"I mean, it's not... we're not... God, I'm terrible at this.
" He takes a deep breath and tries again.
"Maya, when I look at you, I see my future.
All of it. I see us building a life together, growing old together, being disgustingly happy together. "
Tears prick my eyes at the raw honesty in his voice. "Lucas—"
"I know we're still figuring things out, and I know tomorrow's going to be intense with the whole town watching, but I wanted you to have something that reminds you that whatever happens, wherever this goes, you're mine and I'm yours." He opens the box with slightly shaking hands. "Forever."
Inside is the most beautiful necklace I've ever seen. A delicate silver chain with a small heart-shaped pendant that catches the afternoon light like a captured star. Simple, elegant, and absolutely perfect.
"It's a promise," he says quietly. "A promise that I'm not going anywhere. That this is real, and you never have to doubt it."
My hands shake as I reach for the necklace. "Lucas, it's beautiful. I love it."
"Turn around," he says softly, taking the necklace from the box. "Let me put it on you."
I turn my back to him, sweeping my hair to one side, and the brush of his fingers against my neck as he fastens the clasp sends shivers down my spine. The pendant settles just above my heart, warm from his touch, and when I turn back to face him, the look in his eyes takes my breath away.
"Perfect," he murmurs, his thumb tracing the outline of the heart where it rests against my skin. "It looks perfect on you."
"I can't believe you did this," I whisper, touching the pendant with trembling fingers. "Lucas, you didn't have to—"
"Yes, I did." His hands frame my face, and when he looks at me like this, I feel like I could conquer the world. "We know tomorrow's going to be overwhelming. Hopefully this can act as your anchor."
He leans down and kisses me then, soft and sweet, making my heart race. When we break apart, I rest my forehead against his chest and listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"I'm terrified about tomorrow," I admit against his shirt. "What if I embarrass you? What if everyone expects this perfect girlfriend and instead they get me tripping over my own feet in front of the entire festival?"
His laugh rumbles through his chest. "Maya, sweetheart, if you think there's anything you could do that would embarrass me, you clearly don't remember high school very well.
I was so gone for you that I walked into a door during lunch because I was staring at you instead of watching where I was going. "
"You did not," I say, pulling back to look at him.
"I absolutely did. Jake still brings it up sometimes." His grin is boyish and completely irresistible. "The point is, I've been yours since we were seventeen. A little stumbling at a festival isn't going to change that."
The easy way he says it makes me feel warm and secure. This is what I've been afraid to believe in. This certainty.
"Promise me something," I say, my hands fisting in the front of his shirt.
"Anything."
"Promise me that no matter what happens tomorrow, no matter how crazy things get with the festival or Evan or anything else, we'll remember this moment. Right here, right now, when it's just us and everything feels possible."
"I promise." He captures my hands, bringing them to his lips to press a kiss to my knuckles. "But Maya? Tomorrow isn't going to change anything between us. It's just going to make it official."
"Official?"
His eyes darken with something that makes my pulse skip. "Tomorrow, I want the whole world to know you're mine."
The possessive edge in his voice sends heat racing through my veins, and I realize that despite all my fears about tomorrow, there's a part of me that wants that too. Wants to be claimed publicly, wants everyone to see that this man chose me and I chose him back.
"The whole world, huh?" I tease, trying to lighten the moment before the intensity between us combusts completely. "That's a pretty big audience."
His phone buzzes in his pocket, shattering the moment. Lucas frowns as he checks it, and I watch his expression shift from tender to something much darker.
"What is it?" I ask, my hand instinctively going to the heart pendant at my throat.
"Morrison. He wants us to check in with him before the festival opens tomorrow." Lucas's jaw tightens as he pockets the phone. "Apparently they've had to adjust the security protocols."
The reminder of why we need security protocols at all sends ice through my veins, despite the warmth of the evening. Tomorrow isn't just about us being a couple in public. It's about whether Evan makes his move.
"He's going to be there, isn't he?" I whisper, though we both already know the answer. "At the festival."
Lucas pulls me closer, his arms wrapping around me like he can shield me from what's coming. "If he is, we'll be ready for him."
I press my face against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent and trying to memorize this moment of peace. Because tomorrow, everything changes. One way or another.