“It wasn’t about sex, Evie. I’ve known you most of my life. I’ve known there was the possibility for”—his hands squeeze my waist—“this for a long time.”

I’m stunned. “You never said anything. Did anything. I had a crush on you forever.” Something I never imagined I’d admit so freely to him.

“Yeah.” A smirk flashes across his face. “I know. Part of it was Noah. I knew he’d be pissed. Not that we were dating, but I knew he’d be worried I wouldn’t treat you right. And he would have had reason to. I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship then. Look at how much I’ve fucked this up now. Me in high school? College?” He shakes his head. “It would’ve ended badly. But it doesn’t mean I didn’t think about it then. Doesn’t mean I’m not ready for it now. And it definitely doesn’t mean I didn’t mean everything I told you this morning. I did. I do. I love you, Evie.”

It feels like a moment where there should be a Polaroid snapped and a favorite song playing and a distant pop of champagne. All of those things take place in my head, but what’s happening here, now, right in front of me isn’t. Gray is really standing in front of me, saying all the things I’ve ever wanted to hear from him.

There are lots of emotions bubbling in my chest and thoughts flying through my head. But in the end, it all boils down to four words that fall off my tongue like I’ve said them a thousand times before. That I hope to say a thousand times more.

“I love you, Gray.”

EPILOGUE

GRAY

A blue jersey runs into the end zone, and Emmett almost upends the entire table. Beer, peanuts, and all. I can’t stand watching sports with him. There’s a reason our living room is minimally decorated—because Emmett likes to celebrate or bemoan each play like he’s one of the players on the field. Unfortunately, there is plenty of furniture to knock over in this sports bar.

“Jesus, Baker! Watch it!” Harrison grabs his beer and sets it between his legs, obviously deciding that’s the safer spot for it. Noah does the same.

I check my phone. Nothing from Evie. I’m anxious to get out of here. I’ve been gone for the past week, and listening to Emmett cuss out the Bears defensive line is much less enjoyable than other things I’d prefer to be doing as soon as she’s off work.

The television flips to commercials—probably the fiftieth ad break since we started watching. Noah and Emmett start discussing offensive strategies. Harrison looks at me and rolls his eyes. He’s not a big sports fan in general, and I’ve never followed any besides basketball that closely.