“My dad needs a bit more time to really get used to it, but for the most part, yeah. He even said, ‘Any god that doesn’t love my son is no god to me.’ ” Jack tears up, but he doesn’t wipe them away. “I told them about Cal, and that’s a bit of a thorny issue right now, but at least they know.” He looks to the ground and licks his dry lips. “I also told them about you.” I brush his tears away with my thumb.

“What’d you tell them?” I try to suppress a smile, but it peeks through anyway.

“That I met someone and fell so deep in love that I ruined it.”

“A tale as old as time.” I motion for him to come closer.

“I guess that makes me the Beast?”

He’s being cute. Too cute. This is dangerous. “I’m sure as hell Beauty,” I say.

He leans in. “That you are.”

I raise my hand and put a finger to his lips. “Nuh-uh.”

He winces. “Sorry. I read our”—he gestures between us—“energy wrong.”

“No, you didn’t. But before I officially take you back, I wanted to apologize to you.”

His brows crinkle. “For what?”

“For not being more there for you.”

“I didn’t let you,” he says.

“True.” I let the silence linger between us.

“Is there more?”

I nod. “I want to be the best version of myself for you, and right now, I’m a work in progress. I feel like I’m in a growth spurt.”

He grabs my hand. “Me too. Grow together?”

I squeeze his hand back. “Grow together.”

This time, I lean into him, and our lips meet softly, tenderly, and it’s every single firework display, every musical montage at the end of a Disney movie, every bolt of lightning across the night sky. It’s not onstage in the middle of some grand romantic gesture, but it’s perfect.

“I love you,” he says.

Just then, Rae and Benny burst through the doors and, upon seeing us so close, apologize profusely and then bump into each other like windup toys scuttling across a wooden floor, unsure where to go.

“Sorry, I, uh—” Rae mutters.

“Ohmygod, cute! We should—” Benny stutters.

I want them to leave so I can have more time with Jack, but it’s like they’re actively trying to not leave. I mean, it’s not that hard to turn around and beat it.

“What’s up, y’all?” I ask.

“We, um,” Rae hums. “Actually, you—”

Then I hear Professor McPherson over the speakers. It’s muffled, but it’s clear as the night sky: “The winner of the mentorship is Chase Arthur. Or, as I like to refer to him, Gray.”

I blink. “Did she just say …”

“Anyone have eyes on Gray?” she shouts.