Chapter Twenty-Four Summer #2
I turn back around, resuming my routine, and he gets the hang of it fairly quickly.
“How have you been?” he asks when we’re about halfway done.
My first instinct is to say, You’ve been with me all week, you know how I’ve been. But that wouldn’t be fair. While Ezra has been there, I haven’t. Not really.
“I’m okay.”
His green eyes, which always make me feel like I’m the only person in the room, narrow for only a moment before he nods.
“Your dad seems like he’s better, even just since last night.”
I smile. “He is, I think. Or at least I hope.”
“He’s going to be okay, you know. He’s strong. And so are you.”
He says the last part quietly, but it feels loud, and that’s probably because I needed to hear it more than I knew.
“There,” he says after a few more wraps around the curling iron. “I think I’m done.”
I look at his work. It’s not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it’ll do with the time crunch we’re on.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He nods, then resumes his spot on my bed as I finish my makeup.
When I’m done, I go to the dress I have hanging on my closet door.
I don’t bother asking him to turn away or go into the bathroom as I strip off my pajamas. He’s already seen every part of me. Has touched every inch. What do I have to hide now?
I feel Ezra’s eyes on me as I grab the silky dress—a burnt-orange midi—and step into it. There’s a zipper, and there’s no way I’m going to be able to get it up myself.
“Can you?” I ask, peeking over my shoulder.
Ezra crosses the room to me, his steps determined and even. His knuckle grazes across my back, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
“Sorry,” he mutters, but I’m not.
It’s the most alive I’ve felt in days.
He steps away the second he runs out of track, putting a healthy distance between us again, and I release the breath I was holding since he stepped up behind me.
After sliding on my shoes, I turn, running my hands down the front. The material is cool and soft against my skin, but it’s not what causes the goose bumps to break out over my arms. It’s his stare, the way he’s taking me in like he’s looking at me for the first time.
“Well?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
He swallows once, then twice.
Finally, he says, “You’re a fucking vision, Sunny.”
My cheeks flush, and my body ignites for the first time since I got the phone call about my father.
He holds his hand out to me. “Shall we?”
And I place my palm in his.
Noah and Odette are officially husband and wife, and I don’t think I’ve seen two people look more in love than they do.
The ceremony was beautiful, and I’m so glad I opted for waterproof mascara, because it was a necessity after those vows.
Now we’re all seated in the recently renovated barn on the Stick Taps property, and the cider is flowing. The food is great, but it could use a few tweaks to become incredible, and the people are just what I needed.
I think I’ve spoken to every person here, and they’ve all inquired about my father. It’s been emotional, and I’ve had to excuse myself more than once.
The whole time, Ezra’s stood by my side. Quietly, most of the time, but just knowing he’s there has made leaving my father behind a little easier.
Well, that and the texts he’s been sending every half hour.
Dad: Still alive.
Dad: No heart attacks yet.
Dad: Yep. You guessed it. I’m alive.
Dad: This is not a ghost texting you.
He’s lucky he’s not here, because I’d yell at him for that last one.
“Summer!” Izzy calls out, and I grin over at her. “Have I told you how incredible you look?”
Only five times. I’m pretty sure she’s had a few too many ciders, but it’s cute. She’s clearly happy for her brother and best friend.
“Ezra, doesn’t she look hot?”
“She always looks hot,” he says, and I don’t have to look at him to know his eyes are on me. I feel it. I have all night.
“Well, if you think she’s so hot, ask her to dance.”
“He doesn’t dance,” I say automatically.
“He can. If you want to, he can.”
I turn to Ezra. “Really?”
“Yes.” He stands, towering over me, and holds his hand out.
For the second time tonight, I take it.
I shouldn’t. I know that. I should be putting distance between us, because this can’t continue. I mean, I told him I loved him last week, and he never said anything about it. That has to mean he doesn’t feel the same, right? That I’ve been imagining that this thing between us could be more?
I can’t keep putting myself out there. I don’t have anything left to give, not after this week.
Ezra leads us to the dance floor, and “The Way You Look Tonight” begins to play.
“I love this song,” he says as he draws me into his arms, and I fall against him like it’s where I belong.
“I didn’t take you for a Sinatra kind of guy. He’s a bit sappy for you, no?”
“Maybe. But remember when I said I have flashes of what my life was like with my parents?”
I falter in my steps, but if Ezra notices, he doesn’t say. He just holds me close, getting me back on track.
“Them dancing to this song is one of them,” he continues.
“They’d put a record on long after I’d already gone to bed and sway in the kitchen.
They thought they were being quiet, but they weren’t.
I’d hear them from time to time and tiptoe out to the hallway to watch them. It’s stuck with me all these years.”
Tears spring to my eyes.
How can someone who witnessed that not believe in love? How can he not want that too?
His hand tightens on my back, pulling me closer.
“I’m glad you came tonight,” he says into my ear. “And I’m glad you came with me.”
I can’t. I can’t do this.
I can’t listen to him say sweet words into my ear, not when I feel the way I do about him and not when he can’t give me more.
So I run.
“Summer!” he calls after me, but I don’t stop.
I keep going. I need air. I need to not be inside. I need to not be in his arms. Not when he’s looking at me like he is.
“Summer!”
I push through the crowd, undoubtedly drawing attention, but I don’t stop. I can’t.
The cool new autumn air slides over me, and I gulp in breath after breath as I rush as far away from the people and noise as I can.
I just need a minute. I need to think. I need to be alone. I need—
“Summer, please!”
I carry on.
“Fuck, I love you!”
I stop.
But I don’t turn around. I can’t. Because if I do, I’m going to give in to him, and I can’t do that.
“I know I said I didn’t believe in it—and maybe I still don’t—but I believe in you.
I believe in this . . . in us. It’s real, and what I feel for you is really fucking real.
Being close to you this week but not being able to touch you .
. . it killed me. I feel like I’m dying, and I’m not ready to.
I’m not ready because I want so many more years with you.
I need so many more. Just like I need you.
You . . .” I hear him suck in deep breaths.
“You make me feel whole again. You make me feel like I did when I was still playing. You give me purpose. You give me strength. Fuck, you make me feel like I matter, and I haven’t felt like that in a long damn time.
I love you, Sunny. And I don’t want you to push me away.
I don’t want you to shut me out. I just . . . I love you.”
My vision blurs on the edges, and I worry I might pass out for a moment. I realize it’s because I haven’t taken a breath—not a real one—since he started talking.
I don’t use my words lightly. I don’t say things I don’t mean.