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“So try harder.” Abigail rolls her eyes, making a show of sighing loudly. “Duh.” “Put your back into it,” another one says. “Mind over matter.” This comes from one of the chicks who was at the diner that one time. Olivia something or other.
“Just give me a second to find my shoes,” I say as I fling open the door. It isn’t my mom. Not Brenna either. Conor stands in my doorway. “Hey,” he says roughly.
“Come on, Taylor. This is me. You dragged my deepest, darkest secrets out of me because it almost cost us all of this,” he says, gesturing between us. “You can talk to me. Nothing changes how I feel about you.” His deep voice shakes slightly. “Let me help.”
But there’s nothing about this that you should be ashamed of. You did nothing wrong. You’re the victim. When Abigail came by and told me and the guys, every one of them was ready to throw down in your honor. Nobody was cracking jokes or grabbing their phones. We’re only concerned for you. You’re all I care about, Taylor.”
Conor glances over at the car, completely unfazed. “Hey Coach,” he drawls. “What’s up?” When he realizes my mother is in the passenger side, he offers a sheepish smile. “Doctor Mom, good to see you again.” Unbelievable. I shove Conor’s clothes at him. As he covers his junk, I glance over at my mother and see that her lips are shaking with the effort not to laugh and her eyes are watering. Brenna, on the other hand, is hysterical in the back seat, so loud her laughter is echoing off the buildings. “Are you quite finished?” I ask this big dumb idiot with a heart of gold.
I’m too young to be this unhappy, and too loved to be this alone. I owe myself better.
“We were broken up,” I tell him sincerely. “You don’t have to explain.” “I do. I want to. Because I don’t want any more secrets. Not mine, anyway. I don’t want you to ever have a reason to doubt or mistrust me.” “I do trust you.” He looks up, and in his cool gray eyes I see the wounds I’ve inflicted. The insecurity I’ve instilled. A month ago I would have said Conor Fucking Edwards was impervious to everyone and everything. Completely immune to heartache.
It was humiliating enough to deal with all this myself. I didn’t want to make it your problem, too. Didn’t want you to see me differently.” “I only see you.” He takes my hand, rubbing his thumb over the inside of my wrist. “Just as you are. I don’t imagine you as some impossible ideal. To me you’re…real.” His lips quirk in a half-smile. “Stubborn, opinionated, pushy, funny, intelligent, kind, too hard on herself, snarky, sarcastic, jaded, yet somehow a closeted optimist. I fell in love with you for you, T. Nothing you could say or do would embarrass me. Ever.”
but my favorite thing about you that first night was that you were completely unpretentious.” “Yeah, it was pretty much the hair for me,” I say solemnly. “Oh, and the abs. The abs are good too.”
You do have prospects, and whatever you decide will always be good enough for me. That bullshit I fed you when I ended it was just that—bullshit. I didn’t mean a single word of it.” He laces his fingers through mine, squeezing. “I get it. We both made mistakes.” “Thank you for sticking by my side even though I was pushing you away. For not turning your back on me.” “Never.” Leaning in, I place a kiss on his lips.
“I still love you,” he whispers against my mouth. “I still love you,” I whisper back.
“Is it too late to plead temporary insanity?” I ask. “I thought we were going to pretend the whole breakup was a vivid fever dream.”
“I missed you,” he says, breathless. “I missed us.” “Let’s stop breaking up, deal?” I’m not sure how I got lucky enough to meet Conor Edwards.
Sometimes we make all the wrong decisions, end up in all the wrong places, and still find exactly where we’re supposed to be. Conor’s my happy accident. My wrong place, wrong time, exactly right guy.
He taught me how to love myself against my best efforts, showed me an image of myself I’d never believed was there. Strong. Beautiful. Confident. And I’ll never take that for granted again. Rising up on my elbow, I peer into his sated, heavy-lidded eyes and smile. “Deal.”
Well, it took a few bruises and a hell of a lot of patience, but I finally got Taylor to stand up on a surfboard.
When she pops out of the water after her ride into shore, she’s got a big shiny grin on her face. She waves, ecstatic, making sure I saw her. Then she hops up and down a couple times and forms a victory sign with her arms. Fuck, she’s adorable.
She’s my future now, and I’m hers.
Coach is totally going to kick my ass when he realizes he’s stuck with me at another family dinner with Iris.
“I’ll have to be,” she says. “Really, the more he pushes me, the more I want to get involved. Like this dude is going to wish he never fucked with me.” A grin tugs on my lips. “That’s my girl.”
I gulp. “Anyway, I don’t remember how we got on the topic, but someone mentioned, you know, maybe the four of us, could, like, get a place.” “A place,” she repeats. “Together.” “You’re asking me to move in with you.” “I mean, no. But yeah, sorta.” “Huh.” Taylor stares at me. Unmoving. Not even a lip twitch. It’s sort of scary how still she is. “But won’t that be awkward for you and Demi?” My eyebrows fly up. “What? No. Not even a little. I mean, she kissed me once, but that was just to make Hunter jealous. There’s no thing there.” “No,” Taylor corrects, deadpan, “I meant with all the
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“You’re a pain in my ass.” “Love you, too.”
Yet somehow, life put Taylor right in front of me anyway. She’s made me a better person. Taught me to be true to myself. Helped me see the value in me as a person. Hell, she put my family back together.
Taylor looks over her shoulder at the incoming swell. She lines up her board and prepares to catch it. Then, with a mischievous grin, she starts paddling. “Race you for it.”
