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To all the girls and women out there still waiting for their happily ever after. You’re beautiful, and your turn will come. Don’t ever give up on the hope of love.
Don’t get me wrong. I love a good romance story as much as the next girl—okay, probably more than the next girl, and the girl after that, and the girl after that. What can I say? I love love. I swoon over book boyfriends, feel my heart pound during love declarations in movies, sigh at sweet lyrics in songs.
But if I’ve learned anything in the last few years, it’s that a person can be happy and lonely at the same time.
I’m pro-active, not reactive—oooh,
First, Walker pulls something out of my hair, and then he wipes something off my cheek. This is trope Hell. And I definitely feel the heat.
“It’s not deep. Head wounds just bleed more.” His expression turns skeptical. “Are you just saying that so I’ll bleed out and die?” “It’s not a bad plan, but then I’d have to discard your body somewhere, and that’s more effort than I want to exert on a Wednesday night.” “Saved by laziness. Lucky me.”
“How nice of you to wear my number, Jane.” Oh, that smugness. I would slap it off his face, except it’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.
His stare drifts up and down my shirt, and the corner of his mouth lifts. Then he leans forward again, so far that his lips brush against strands of my hair, causing them to tickle my ear, making my whole body shiver. “You look good wearing my jersey. Real good.”
Walker Collins is a walking romance trope. Nothing has ever been so annoying and so satisfying at the same time.
“Since when do you want to hang out with Capri?” “Since it’s the only way I can hang out with you.”
“I guess I just really, really like you.”
“It’s always good to see you.”
Because when you finally figure out who you want to spend the rest of your life with, the rest of your life can’t start soon enough.
Then I see her. Jane. Relief floods my body. I’m finally home. A sheet of rain is between us, falling on her brown hair, floral skirt, and a pink T-shirt. She’s beautiful. Everything I need. I’ve been wandering aimlessly in a desert, and she’s a pool of water. I’ve never wanted anything more. Jane Hayes is my future and my forever.
The kiss is a seal of I’m never letting you go again—a promise of more. It’s the beginning of my happily ever after.
“Of course I came back. I love you, Jane.” My lips melt into a soft smile with a girlish laugh. “I love you too.”
