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“I’m ready,” he says, meeting my eyes. “I’m just scared, Braxton.”

I can’t even imagine what the hell’s going through his head right now. I don’t have some motivational speech or any words that could touch his fear. All I can say is the one thing I know for a fact.

“Whatever you decide to do, we’ve got your back.”

Felix’s (now) wife is probably one of the hottest women to ever come out of Lewis Creek, and one of the
sweetest. Back when Felix played ball for the school, the two of them were the town’s golden couple. Good for them for being a golden couple that actually, you know, worked. The person other people expect you to end up with usually turns out to be a dead end. I’ve seen plenty of couples kick the bucket once the heat of summer hits.

Marisa must catch me staring at the (correction: second) hottest person in Lewis Creek because she swats me on the head again, right here at our table in the reception hall. I grin. She rolls her eyes for what’s probably the hundredth time today, but she can’t fight that little smile no matter how hard she tries. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I pull her in for a side-hug.

“It’s craziness, huh?” I ask. “Half of Lewis Creek’s population, plus bright pink and purple decorations, plus strobe lights, plus punch that’ll knock you off your rocker, equals Marisa Marlowe’s worst dance nightmare come true.”

“It’s like Barbie puked in here. Felix is lucky I love Jay, so I love him by association.” She scans the room. “Speaking of your partner in crime, where is he?”

I crane my neck, looking around the hall, but there’s no sign of Jay anywhere. “Dunno,” I mutter. “The rest of the bridal party’s here.” In fact, Felix and Lana are already seated and about to start the toasts. I don’t want to go looking for the guy, but he can’t miss this.

The door to the hall opens, spilling the late afternoon sunlight across the floor. Brett steps into the room. So does Jay. Brett looks like he just ate Momma’s attempt at deer jerky. Jay looks like he’s about to pass out cold any second. Marisa reaches into my lap and grabs my hand right as Jay grabs Brett’s, lacing his fingers through his.

Son of a mother-effer. They did it.

They’re two deer trapped in headlights, unmoving, but what I think they realize is that no one even notices. Until they do start walking to our table, and I spot old Mr. Morgan and his wife scowling at them. And Mrs. Carter’s mouth drops open. And Mr. Lincoln flops back against his chair with his face all twisted up. All of that’s just at the table beside us. I know I shouldn’t expect much more from folks in Lewis Creek, but a guy can hope, right?

Jay and Brett take their seats at our table, with Jay sitting on the other side of Marisa. Brett’s usually tan skin is white as Casper himself. I think I can actually see his heart pounding through his jacket. His gaze stays on the table, but Jay meets my eyes. He grins like a fool. So do I.

“Brett,” I say quietly. His head pops up. “Good for you, man.”

While the corner of his mouth twitches, he doesn’t fully smile, which doesn’t surprise me. A pastor’s kid walking into a reception holding another guy’s hand isn’t exactly on par with what’s considered normal around here. I glance at Marisa, though, and I’m reminded of just how stupid normal is. A little bit of crazy is a hell of a lot better.

“Yeah,” she says with a smile. “Crazy really is better.”

“I’m startin’ to think you’re actually reading my mind.”

“I’m startin’ to think you need to get yourself checked out because you talk an awful lot without realizin’ it.”

Leaning in, I rest my forehead against hers. “You just dropped not one, but
two
Gs.”

She shrugs and gives me a quick kiss. “I spend all my time with a Southern guy who hates the letter G. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” She glances at Jay and Brett out the corner of her eye. “They’re
officially my favorite people ever. I’m so happy for them.”

Glass clinks at the front of the hall, and as Felix stands with a microphone, the music and motion come to a standstill. Beaming, he raises his glass toward our table. Toward Jay. And I’m pretty sure Jay’s about to stop breathing. I’m definitely not doing mouth-to-mouth on him here. Right as I’m about to start looking for a doctor, Jay lets out an
oof
.

“Damn, girl,” he mutters to Marisa. “You didn’t have to kick me.”

Suppressing a laugh, I squeeze her hand, which is resting in my lap. The girl’s resourceful.

“I can’t thank you all enough for joining us today,” Felix begins. “To my parents, my family, and Lana’s family: your assistance in bringing this day together was outstanding. It’s been perfect.”

He lowers his gaze, seeming to be in thought, before looking to the crowd once again. “Today’s about love. About finding that one person your soul loves and can’t thrive without. And it doesn’t matter who that person is—man, woman, or what have you. What matters is how you feel with that person, and, well, how she makes you want to be better. For her.”

The guy hit the nail on the head; the hand in mine right now is proof of that. The rose in my coat is practically screaming at me, but it needs to wait a
little
bit longer. Felix smiles down at Lana, who looks at him with a gaze so warm I don’t know how he isn’t melting.

“Lewis Creek has its downfalls,” he continues, “but there’s one thing that brought me back to this town after college: the love each of us shares for one another. So let’s celebrate love tonight. Let’s party and raise some hell until the cows come running.”

He raises his wine glass and takes a gulp before slamming it down on the table. The room erupts into
applause and cheers while Felix holds his hand out for Lana’s. The music resumes, and as they head for the dance floor, Felix winks in our direction. Instead of bordering on passing out this time, Jay nods back with a slight smile. And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Brett’s skin has moved up from Casper to eggshell-white. It’s a start, anyway.

I turn and catch Marisa staring at me with a smile even warmer than Lana’s. The difference between me and Felix is that I think I
am
melting. Reaching into my coat, I pull out the hollerin’ flower and hold it out for her.

Her face softens as she takes the long-stemmed purple rose and twirls it between her fingers. “It’s gorgeous,” she says. “Flawless, actually. Where’d it come from, though? We don’t have any purple ones at the shop. And I should know since I was there all day yesterday.”

Taking a deep breath, I say, “Well, here’s the thing. I ordered some, like, three weeks ago for the shop, but our usual supplier was out, so I had to track down
another
one, who told me it’d be two weeks, even with extra shipping. So I broke down and paid thirty bucks to have them overnighted to my house from a shop in Alabama.”

“Austin?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe, honey. You’ve got to breathe when you talk.” She smiles down at the rose. “Easier question for you, I hope: why purple?”

That is easier. I shift in my seat, facing her. “I never really knew what being nuts about someone meant until I knew that I’d do anything to make you smile. To make you happy. To make sure you’d never feel any pain again. And now I know that I can’t always take the pain away, but I hope I’ll be the one you come to when it’s there.”

Her lower lip quivers as her eyes well up with tears. “But why purple?” she asks, that little voice of hers trembling.

Chuckling, I grab her hand. “Because it’s your favorite. And because purple roses mean love at first sight or enchantment. What you did to me? That’s the reason they came up with a rose to define it. It’s not just friendship; it’s being absolutely enchanted by the girl who knocked you clean off your feet the second you met her. And I can’t believe I just used the word ‘enchanted,’ but—”

Tears spill onto her bright red cheeks. “Oh my God.” She fans herself.

I grab a napkin and shove it into her hands. “What?”

Her shoulders rise and fall as she wipes at her eyes, the napkin coming away with black crap all over it. Is she—shit, is she hyperventilating?

Over her head, I see Jay’s eyes widen. “The hell did you do?” he whispers.

I shrug. Holy crap, what did I do?

“Do I need to apologize or—?”

Marisa’s gaze softens. Her hand slips into mine. And even though her lip’s still quivering, I
think
she’s trying to smile.

“Austin?” she says.

I’m almost too petrified to utter a word. “Y-yeah?”

“You, my dear little country boy, have officially proven that there is such a thing as a Southern gentleman.” She squeezes my hand and leans forward to kiss my cheek. “Don’t ever change.”

A grin sneaks across my face. “Told you I’d be a good date.”

She scrunches her nose playfully. “Yeah, you’re not so bad.”

And now, time to go for the kill. I wrap my arm around the back of her chair. “So would not-so-bad be a good enough reason for prom?”

Her eyes widen. Her lips part, but instead of saying anything, she shakes her head. My stomach sinks, but I somehow maintain a shaky smile. I know she hates the dance thing, and I know it’s a longshot, but it’s my last year. My last prom. And call me nuts, but I actually kind of sort of want to go. With her.

If she stops staring at me like I’m certifiable.

“There’s still a while to decide,” I add. “If you need to think about it or whatever.”

She inhales deeply. “Depends,” she finally says. “Will you try to get in my pants?”

“Irrelevant. You won’t be wearing pants.”

She shoves my shoulder. “You’re so lucky my dad wasn’t around to hear that.”

The girl’s got a point.

“But yes,” she says. “Even though I maintain that dances are evil, if I’m going to suffer through a night of blisters and terrible decorations, there’s no one else I’d rather suffer with.”

Not exactly what I was going for, but I’ll take it.

A streak of sunlight flashes across the wall. I turn right as Pastor Perry walks out the door, letting it slam closed behind him. Well, damn it. I look over at Brett and Jay. They’re both silent, staring down at the table. Any color Brett had regained is gone.

Immediately, two sets of heels click against the floor, heading in our direction. Mrs. Torres and Mrs. Perry approach the table, coming to stand between Jay and Brett. With one hand on her hip and the other on Brett’s shoulder, Mrs. Perry smiles at the rest of us.

“This is an awfully good-lookin’ table,” she says. “Do y’all mind if we borrow these guys for a minute?”

Brett gnaws on his bottom lip, his forehead creasing. “Momma,” he begins, glancing up at her. “I’m sor—”

She cuts him off with a shake of her head. She bends over slightly, until she’s looking straight into his eyes. “You’ve got absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

“But Dad.”

Though the words are quiet, they still make their way across the table, weighing tons. Mrs. Perry holds his gaze for a moment before saying, “If you remember anything, you remember this: your daddy loves you more than anything on God’s green earth. He’ll be just fine.
You
will be fine.” She looks over at Jay, and when she smiles at the guy who walked in holding her son’s hand, I’m pretty sure she gives Brett the strength not to crack in front of hundreds of people.

Mrs. Torres holds her hand out for Jay’s. Mrs. Perry holds hers out for Brett’s. And as they lead the guys onto the dance floor, I hope to all that’s holy that the scoffers and eye-rollers in this room see what I’ve known for years.

People can hold hands with whomever they want. And that’s okay.

chapter twenty-six

On our way back to Marisa’s house, she’s quiet, staring out her window for the entire drive. It’s late and we’ve had a long day, so I’m sure she’s exhausted, but there’s something else radiating off her. Not sadness or anything. I just can’t put my finger on it.

I pull into her driveway and cut the engine. She finally moves, only to unbuckle her seatbelt. I grasp her hand as she does. “You all right?” I ask.

She nods and pulls her hand away. “Mostly. But let’s walk and talk. I need air.”

I step out of the truck along with her. She walks around, meeting me at my door. This time she takes my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. Instead of starting toward the brightly lit house, she leads me into the grass, which shimmers from the night’s dew. She kicks off her shoes, and her hand slips from mine as she strolls across the lawn, staring up at the sky.

I wish there were more ways to tell her how downright gorgeous she is.

“I was thinking about Brett and Jay,” she says, turning to face me. “About how they’ll be split up next year.” She smiles sadly. “And I was thinking about how much that must suck, to find someone you’re crazy about and then tell them goodbye.”

I hadn’t even thought about that with those two. Soon they won’t have a secret keeping them apart anymore; they’ll have states. I’m not sure which is worse. Moving away from the place you’ve lived your entire life is hard enough. Add that in with moving away from the person you’re head over heels for? That sounds like a kick to the gut. I don’t know what I’d do if Marisa was going anywhere other than USC.