“No... no, no, no.” He muttered the word against her lips as his phone continued to buzz in the other room, and Addie laughed

harder each time at his bullheaded determination to keep kissing her.

“Just answer it. Whoever it is, they’ve called ninety times now.”

Wes traced a trail from the corner of her lips and across her jawline to her ear. “Just ignore it.”

“I can’t. Why don’t you turn it off if you’re not going to answer it?”

“Well, the full answer to that would probably require some deep psychoanalysis, which I’m sure would trace back to the governor”—he

cleared his throat—“sorry, my dad telling me that the measure of a man is the commitments he honors, and if you allow an opportunity to pass by, you have no

one to blame but yourself if another one never comes along. But the honest-to-goodness answer right now is that my phone is

in the dining room and your lips are in here, and I’ve made my choice.” He looped his arm around her neck and pulled her back

to him again to place the punctuation mark on his declaration.

“I feel like we’re pushing our luck, anyway,” she murmured as Wes traced the line of her neck with his finger, and then his lips followed the trail his finger had laid out. “I half expect Jo to come back and catch us making out.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” The phone buzzed again, and he lowered his forehead to her shoulder and groaned. “I’m sure it’s

just my campaign manager.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him away, leaving him to stretch his lips out in a comical attempt to return

to her. “Yeah, so where are you on that whole thing?”

“What whole thing?”

“That whole running-for-president thing.”

He shrugged. “I’m not.” He leaned against her, causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles as her strength gave way to his

and he was once again kissing her.

“But no one else knows that still, right?” she asked softly. “As in ballots are being printed with your name on them, and

campaign staffers are neglecting their families in order to devote every hour to pounding the pavement and knocking on doors

in support of Hobbes for President, and meanwhile you’re in hiding, holding on to information that’s going to impact lots

of people.”

Wes sighed and furrowed his brow at her before sitting up and leaning back against the couch. “Way to ruin a mood, Adelaide.”

“Yep.” She sat up and joined him in a normal upright position, like the responsible adults they were. “Nothing like a little

the-future-of-our-country-is-at-stake reality check to ruin a perfectly good make-out session.”

“First of all, that was a perfectly fantastic make-out session, thank you very much.”

He really just wanted to stop there. Well, to stop there with his words, anyway. He would have been very content to never

stop kissing her. It was mind-boggling to him how, after all this time—after their bodies had changed, their personalities

had changed, and they’d each had other experiences with other people—they still fit together like they had the very first

time he ever kissed her, in their meadow on the outskirts of town.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” he asked, turning to face her. Reality could wait just a little longer.

“ Do I remember? Of course I remember. It was summer in the meadow. I was fifteen. The Fourth of July.”

Except at the exact same time she said, “The Fourth of July,” Wes said, “Your birthday,” causing them both to scrunch up their

faces and stare at each other in confusion.

“It was the Fourth of July, Wes,” Addie insisted. “July 4, 2001. There were fireworks, remember? And as big of a deal as you

and my dad usually made of my birthdays, I don’t remember anyone ever actually putting on a fireworks display.”

“No way.” He shook his head fiercely. “I mean, I remember kissing you in the meadow on the Fourth of July during fireworks,

for sure. More than once. But our first kiss was on your fifteenth birthday. August 4, 2000. It was raining for the first

time in forever, and it was so hot and humid, and you were sad because you were missing your mom, and your dad had given you

that necklace—”

“I’m pretty sure you’re just stealing a plotline from an episode of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman .”

He laughed and shook his head. “No. Are you serious? You don’t remember this? It was your mom’s necklace, remember? And it

had lost some of the jewels, and Doc had replaced them with sapphires because that was your mom’s birthstone.”

“Well, yeah, I remember the necklace, but—”

“Okay.” He propped his knee up on the couch and leaned toward her. “And remember you walked out of your party, and no one

knew where you had gone, but I found you in the meadow, and we rode our bikes farther out—”

“To the waterfall.” She nodded. “But you didn’t kiss me.”

Wes had been practically bouncing in enthusiasm as recognition began flaring in her eyes, but just like that, the excitement

was gone. His bouncing stopped, and he sat back on the couch, facing forward again. “Wow, Addie. Just... wow . Glad it was such a big moment for you.”

She laughed and lifted his arm and curled under it so she could look straight up at him. “I have vivid memories of our nonimaginary first kiss.”

“It wasn’t imaginary!” He sat up again, taking her with him. “Okay, picture it with me here. We were at the waterfall—”

“Hot, raining, birthday, necklace, dead mom, sad... With you so far.”

“And then I said we should probably get back before Doc started worrying, and your bike got stuck in the mud.”

She began tracing the outline of his hand with her fingertip and nodded. “Right. I remember that.”

“So I picked it up and carried it, and we had to walk all the way back, and by the time we got back to the meadow, it had

stopped raining, and it was dark, and I held your hand—”

“To guide me through the puddles.”

“What? No! It wasn’t to help you through the puddles. I mean, maybe it was, but I was very intentionally holding your hand, and then

I kissed you. Then I walked you to your house, we never spoke of it again, and I officially asked you out, like, eight months

later. And then our next kiss was on the Fourth of July.”

Addie’s finger stilled on his hand. “Oh. You’re talking about that ? That wasn’t a real kiss.”

“Excuse me?”

“You hugged me, and it was dark, and we kind of bumped into each other—”

“‘Bumped into each other’?!” Wes jumped up from the couch, causing Addie to erupt in a fit of giggles. “We did not ‘bump into

each other.’ I kissed you! I meant to do it. I mean, I’m not saying it was one for the ages or anything. I didn’t know what

I was doing. But we most certainly did not ‘kind of bump into each other.’”

His profuse use of air quotes made her laugh even harder, and she leaned forward to grab a tissue from the coffee table to begin wiping away the moisture in the corners of her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, quite unconvincing in her declaration of regret.

“I honestly thought it was an accident, and I never mentioned it because I didn’t want you to be embarrassed.

” She stood up and walked over to where he was standing with his elbow resting on the mantel. “Forgive me?”

She traced her finger along a winding vein from his elbow to his wrist and looked up at him with those big eyes that, for

the first time in the couple of days he had spent with her, didn’t look sad, and it became increasingly difficult to even

carry on pretending to be upset. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, and she leaned into the palm of his hand.

But just as he was preparing to demonstrate that all was forgiven—not to mention demonstrate that, hopefully, he knew how

to kiss her in a way that was much more memorable now—her phone rang in her pocket. Without a word, but with an undoubtedly

mischievous grin on her lips, she pulled it out and answered the call.

“Hello?”

“One time,” Wes whispered, shaking his finger at her and backing away. “You’re weak, Atwater. It rang one time.”

“Oh... um, yeah...” She was still watching him, but their teasing came to an end as her expression morphed into something

neutral in response to whatever was being said on the other end of the line. “Yeah, I think I can track him down.” She raised

her eyebrows and shrugged in his direction. “Okay, sure. If I see him, I’ll let him know. Okay... sounds good. Yeah, I’ll

talk to you later.” Addie ended the call and stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

“Everything okay?”

“Laila said she needs to see you.”

“Hmm. Okay. Did she say what about?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Just that she needs you to head over to Milo’s as soon as you can.”

Wes nodded and half smiled at her. “Okay. I guess I should go. Just...”

“What?”

“If I leave now...”

“Are you wondering if the bubble will pop?”

He nodded. “I am.” And he was pretty sure he was willing to neglect the rest of the world and stay by the fire at the Inn Between forever if that was the only way to stay in the bubble with her.

She scrunched up her nose and her lips and wiggled them back and forth. “I don’t know. Can’t say for sure, obviously, but

this hasn’t really felt very bubble-ish to me. I mean, it has , but in a good way. Like a Glinda the Good Witch sort of bubble that can float from place to place and be controlled. Not

a John Travolta Boy in the Plastic Bubble sort of bubble, where the bubble is the only thing keeping us alive. You know what I mean?”

He smiled and couldn’t help but wonder if it ever would have even been possible for him to fall out of love with her. “As

ashamed as I am to admit it, yes. I know exactly what you mean.”

***

Wes observed the minimalistic facade of Milo’s Steakhouse in the light of day and was even more impressed than he had been

the night before. In fact, now that he was able to take in the entire row of buildings—where he knew there had been countless

businesses housed through the years, though he could remember the specifics of very few—he felt pride swell up inside him.

He was proud of his friends, sure, even if they (or at least one half of “they”) weren’t quite ready to acknowledge him as

a friend again. But he was also proud of Adelaide Springs.

All of them, he was pretty certain, had had a love-hate relationship with their hometown when they were younger. He certainly

had. No matter how much they’d been happy there, no matter how much they loved the people, a person couldn’t help but sometimes

feel a restlessness growing up in a town with just a few hundred people and very limited entertainment options. Well, limited

unless you enjoyed the mountains and the river and the endless miles of hiking possibilities and a sky that seemed to show

off just out of habit.

Thus the love-hate. He did enjoy those things.

He always had. He had loved getting dirty and wet and exploring every nook and cranny of canyons and riverbeds.

But yes, once in a while it would have been really nice to be able to take his girlfriend to a fine dinner and a movie without having to spend a small fortune on gasoline.

It wouldn’t have broken his heart if he and his mother could have done all their shopping right there in town rather than having to make a full-day event out of it, stocking up for weeks at a time.

But to look at Adelaide Springs now—still tiny, still intimate, still bursting with natural beauty and grandeur, but also

expanding and attempting to remain relevant—made him feel proud, even if he knew he had no right to claim for himself any

of the pride the citizens of the town should feel.

“There you are!” Laila rushed out the door and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I’m glad Addie was able to track you down.”

What were they going to think? Well, he didn’t have to think too hard to figure out what Laila would probably think. Wes was

quite certain Laila would view him and Addie getting back together as a triumph of first love and a celebration of the bond

they all shared, or something equally “glass half full” and optimistic. Something equally Laila-ish. Cole, on the other hand...

That one might be a little trickier. It wasn’t that Cole had been unfriendly to him at dinner the night before. Far from it.

He was actually pretty sure Cole wasn’t wired for unfriendliness any more than his wife was. And there had been a few moments

when one of them—let’s face it, usually Laila—would mention a funny memory from their past, and even Cole would laugh. A couple

of times Wes and Cole had even turned to each other and referenced some guys-only inside joke aspect of the anecdote. It was

good. It had felt really good to Wes. But Cole had been his best friend for a lot of years, and then Wes had abandoned him, just as surely as he’d

abandoned Addie. And now, when he found out he and Addie were back together...

Hang on. Were he and Addie back together?

As much as he understood and appreciated her bubble theory, all of a sudden all he could hear was pop , pop , pop as all that was to come scrolled in front of his eyes.

Not so much like his life flashing before him.

More like a list... an endless list.

.. of all he had to sort out and deal with, scrolling and scrolling in smaller and smaller font size like the Star Wars credits.

“Where’s Addie?” Laila asked, pulling away from the hug.

“Huh?” Wes looked down at her and saw her eyes directed behind him at the old Chevy pickup truck. “Oh, yeah, she didn’t come.

She just let me borrow Beulah.”

Laila sighed and nodded. “Don’t feel bad. You can’t expect her to be okay spending too much time with you yet. But hey, she let you drive Beulah! That’s no small thing.”

“That’s no small thing,” he agreed, grinning at her and squeezing her hand before she pulled away completely. “So what’s up?”

“Well...” She motioned for him to follow her inside. “I have a surprise for you.”

Wes spotted the instantly recognizable face of someone he’d never met before at a table in the center of the room. The man

stood as they entered and took a step toward them as they approached, his arm outstretched.

He introduced himself as they shook hands. “Sebastian Sudworth. Nice to finally meet you, Senator.”