Chapter 15
CALVIN
The square never misses a beat, alive with laughter, music, and the smell of fresh churros drifting on the air. Mrs. Dorsey has three neighbors tangled into a dance line that looks like chaos disguised as choreography.
Riot milks his fake tears, collapsing into Maddie’s lap like she’s the lost love of his life.
Cara and Rodney circle the square hand in hand, shoulders brushing.
And Faith, my gentle, loving mother, lifts her hands to the string lights, singing along to Don’t Stop Believin’ like she’s giving thanks.
A surge of euphoria buzzes through me, wild and dizzy. A minute ago I was ready to pop Riot in the jaw for throwing me up there. Now I almost owe him a thank you. The thought makes me laugh under my breath, short and disbelieving.
Jules feels it. She knows. My nerves are still raw from the stage, and she’s here in it with me, unpolished, no distance.
Just us, reeling together.
She leans her head against my shoulder with that small laugh, that beautiful sound in my ear.
Ten years apart, and she still knows me.
We’re not the same as we were. We’ve been scarred, sharpened, made stronger.
But the core of us, the part that matters, never left.
And now I get to discover her all over again.
There are a thousand things we haven’t said, but her grip tightens, and so does mine. That’s enough. For now.
I’ve spoken to strangers in stadiums, boardrooms, classrooms. But never like that. Never a truth that could split me in two if she turned away.
I told the truth tonight. Maybe for the first time in years. And now we sit in the aftermath, like the world always knew this was where we were meant to be.
The bandleader steps to the mic, wiping his brow. “As summer comes to a close, and love is clearly in the air tonight, we’re ending with one of the sweetest. Here’s Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
The guitar begins, stripped down and tender. Acoustic. Simple. Honest. The square hushes, couples drawing closer, laughter softening into something slower.
Jules shifts beside me, like the weight of the day might tip her over. I wrap an arm around her.
Her hand rests against me, her touch calm as her breathing falls into rhythm with mine.
We don’t need words. The music carries them for us.
For everyone else, it’s just a cover. For me, it’s the truest thing I’ve ever heard.
The last chord fades, and the square rises with applause. Couples sway through the final note before peeling apart. Jules and I stand too, our hands still linked, clapping with the crowd. The noise is bright, but what runs between us is quieter, more certain.
Riot whistles for our group like he’s herding cattle. Cara laces her fingers through Rodney’s and pulls him close, her laughter ringing a little too bright to be casual.
We gather, a small knot of leftover energy drifting toward the BnB as the town scatters for home. Maddie is caught in Riot’s endless tales, grinning in spite of herself.
And us? We trail at the back. Our steps are slow, unhurried. The quiet between us says more than explanations ever could. Hands clasped, solid and sure. No effort, no forcing. Just here. Just us. Enough.
She tilts her face up, eyes flicking to me in the moonlight. “You scared me up there,” she whispers. Her voice is smaller than I expect, but true. “Saying all that. In front of everyone.”
I squeeze her hand, finding her eyes. “I wasn’t talking to them.”
The words hang there between us, heavier than my speech, because she knows it’s true.
Because I’m looking at her like nothing else exists.
The group breaks at the BnB with yawns, hugs, goodnights. Doors open, close. Lights glow behind curtains.
But Jules and I linger. Unfinished business.
The willow leans low at the edge of the lot, its branches silvered by moonlight, painting her in quiet grace. She folds her arms, not from cold, but nerves.
“You know,” I say, my voice low, certain, “I feel like I’m home with you. You’ve always been the one.”
Her gaze flickers to mine, then slips away. A smile tugs at her mouth, shy, like she doesn’t know how to hold the words but wants to.
I take one hand out of my pocket, slow and sure. I tilt her chin until her eyes meet mine. I feel like a witness to something too beautiful to name. I turn her face just enough to kiss her cheekbone.
Her breath catches. My lips float to her forehead, just below the hairline.
A blessing. An exhale.
I tip her chin up, grazing the tip of her nose with a gentle kiss.
Her lips curve as her gaze lifts to mine.
The playfulness leaves first.
Her eyes are wide, wet, and so damn beautiful.
I lean in. The space between us narrows to nothing, then holds as our noses touch.
A single breath, shared.
Her fingers tighten against my shirt.
My forehead rests against hers.
My arms close around her, instinct and promise all at once.
The last first kiss.
The world doesn’t need to know what it means.
We do.
For now.