Last Call at the Local (Love, Lists & Fancy Ships, #3)

by Sarah Grunder Ruiz

When she lifts her gaze to mine, the first thing I think is, I’ve fucked up, because it’s at that exact moment I realize I’m going to be undone by this girl.

“Useless and silly and important,” she says. “My favorite kind of beautiful.”

“I want you to think the best of me.” He lifts his gaze to mine. “Please, always think the best of me.”

Jack, you don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be in recovery or have everything under control. You deserve to be happy. Not later, but right now. You deserve as much happiness as you can get. And for what it’s worth, I think plenty of people would want to be with you exactly the way you are. Including me.”

If my life is a song, then the places I’ve been are the verses, new and varied. But Ireland—Ireland is a chorus, something to return to again and again, a place to land.