Page 32

Chapter 32

Grace

When Ev asked me to dance, it was impossible to hold myself back. Instead of saying something like “I’d love to” or “of course” or even a simple “yes,” I whelped an embarrassingly unintelligible response. The last time we’d danced together had been at his bar mitzvah, and one of his baseball teammates had puked all over the floor before the DJ could play a slow song. Violence was never the answer, I knew, but I’d sincerely wanted to punch that kid in the face for the rest of the party.

My heart hammered as Ev led me onto the terrace, and I felt goose bumps bloom under my shirt once he rested his hands on my waist. But before I slung my arms around his neck, I swiftly stole his Mets hat and tossed it into the azaleabushes.

He chuckled. “Fair enough.”

And then I fell miles upon miles into those eyes, his rich amber eyes that felt as endless as sunset on the horizon. The back of his neck was warm, and I wove a few of my fingers in his dark hair. I love you, I almost said, because if there was ever a good time, it was now—swaying with him in this wondrous moment. I love you, Everett Adler.

The words were on the tip of my tongue, but then the piano keys sounded, and they were lost. I recognized the song immediately; Isa had sung along to it in the Tesla this morning, and if I wasn’t tone-deaf, I could’ve sung it myself. Listening to Adele’s rendition of “Make You Feel My Love” as many times as I had the past few years? You memorize the lyrics. They are forever ingrained in your heart.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Ev asked once Isa and James began to harmonize. “Your fingers are trembling.”

“Nothing,” I said, and swallowed the lump in my throat before giving him a small smile. “I just used to listen to this song a lot. It, um, made me think of you…and me…and how…” I drifted off, unable to say the rest.

Ev nodded stoically. As always, he had picked up the pieces and put them together. “So I suppose this is our song,” he said.

I shrugged. “Only if you want it to be.”

He unexpectedly spun me. “Well, I don’t,” he murmured once he was holding me close again. His hand was tantalizingly low and light on my back. “This is not our song, Grace.”

“It’s not?” I asked.

“No, it’s not.” He shook his head. “Isa and James are killing it up there, but this is some angsty, lonely, unrequited adolescent crush garbage.”

My eyes widened. “Ev!”

His glinted. “What?”

“This song is gut-wrenching—I cried my eyes out to it! Night after night, wishing over and over again that you were mine.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know, and I’m sorry about that.”

I squeezed his shoulder. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Either way, I still am.”

Laughter bubbled out of me. I don’t know where it suddenly came from, but it did. “Okay, this is inane,” I said. “It’s in the past.” I felt myself blush. “Things are different now.”

“Yes, they are.” Ev kissed my forehead. His lips sparked my skin, leaving behind an invisible scorch mark. “Hence, I’m not going to dance our first dance to a song that talks about one of us going hungry or black-and-blue or crawling-up-some-avenue to prove to the other person how much they belong together.” He reached to fiddle with one of my necklaces. “We already know we belong together. Plus the lyrics don’t promote healthy relationships….” He sighed. “Just, no.”

I looked at him, amused. “You said our first dance,” I murmured, lungs fluttering. “Our first dance, as if we’re getting married.”

Ev went red but collected himself quickly. “Oh, right,” he said, clearing his throat. “I forgot.” He twirled me once, then had us swaying again. “Do you want to get married?”

I fought a smile.

“I know it might be a little strange,” he said, “showing up at the Pepperdine tennis courts in September with the Boulder on your finger, but…”

A giggle escaped. I had only seen “the Boulder” a few times, since the emerald ring was hidden away in Mrs.Adler’s jewelry drawer. It had belonged to her mother, and before that Ev’s great-grandmother, who had successfully smuggled it out of Nazi Germany during World WarII. We called it “the Boulder” because it was massive. Picture Kate Middleton’s engagement ring, and you’re pretty much there. A huge emerald wreathed in who-knew-how-many dazzling diamonds.

Yes, I’d tried it on once.

“…it might affect your serve since it’s so heavy.” Ev was still babbling, his blush now deep scarlet. “And also weigh your hand down while you write.” He shook his head. “You know what, you don’t even have to wear it—”

“Of course I’m going to wear it!” I blurted. “It’s the Boulder, for fuck’s sake!”

Stunned, Ev closed his mouth, but a moment later, his dimpled grin took over his face. “I mean it, Grace,” he said. “I’m going to marry you.”

I smirked and cupped his face in my hands. “You move pretty fast, Everett Adler.”

“Says the person who wanted to have sex in a janitor’s closet,” he whispered as I kissed both his dimples. “After making out for only five minutes.”

I shot him a glare. “It wasn’t only five minutes!”

He grumbled. “It sure felt like only five minutes.”

“Well, that’s because life moves pretty fast,” I told him, running a hand through his hair. “How about we try to slow down and enjoy it for a while?” I smiled. “We have plenty of time to sift through songs, and plenty of time before…” I trailed off and took my left hand from his shoulder to admire it. I was wearing a couple cheap rings, but nothing on that finger. “Big boulder-sized things.” I looked back at Ev. “Let’s not miss it, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, then bowed his head to whisper in my ear. “You have my heart, Grace.” He inhaled; then his voice quavered as he spoke. “It’s broken, but it’s yours.”

I felt a pang in my chest. Ev—oh, Ev.

He missed his dad to a degree I couldn’t even begin to fathom.

“We’re going to fix it,” I said after getting him to look at me. “Okay? You and me. It won’t feel like this forever, I promise. It’ll get easier.”

“I know,” he said. “My therapist keeps singing that tune.” He gave me a sad smile. “There’s always going to be a crack, though. Some days it’ll be deeper than others.” He tried to laugh. “I hope that’s not a dealbreaker.”

“Not a dealbreaker.” I shook my head, then leaned close again to whisper three words. My heart swelled saying them, and I swear it burst when Ev grinned.

“I thought you might,” he said.

“Oh, really?” I asked. “How?”

He shrugged. “Because you make me feel it,” he said. “Everything you do, Grace. You make me—” He stopped himself, and I almost cracked up, realizing the trap he’d walked into. Isa’s and James’s voices were quieting, the song winding down. “Make me feel your love,” he said at the same time they did. “You make me feel your love.”

I threw back my head and laughed. You’d think it was cringey, but somehow it wasn’t.

Ev rolled his eyes. “Still not our song.”

“No.” I shook my head, smiling smugly. “Not our song.”

But that didn’t stop Ev from twirling me one last time and then sweeping me into his arms again for a sweet and sunlitkiss.

Yes, there was no doubt. There was no doubt in our minds where we belonged.