Whooboy.
“When I told her I’d agreed to do a show with him, she thought I was insane and bitched me out for a good half an hour. Then, when I told her he’d apologized and wanted me back, she threatened to jump on the first plane out of Oz to beat the crap out of him. When I told her how hard he’s worked on his issues and how different he is, she went quiet for a long time.”
“And now?”
I take a deep breath. “She’s glad I’m getting therapy, and she’s cautious about Ethan. Very cautious, but she wants me to be happy. She thinks I should make him jump through hoops before even considering taking him back.”
“Does she believe he’s different?”
I shake my head. “She’s dubious.”
“Why?”
“Because he convinced us he’d changed before.”
He walks toward me, looking smug. Well, more smug than usual. Beside me, Zoe and Phoebe have gone mysteriously silent. I turn to see them watching him with their mouths open.
I can hardly blame them. Every time I see Ethan striding toward me, it’s like the world goes into slow motion. I have no doubt he affects other women in the same way.
“Christ, he’s hot,” Zoe mutters under her breath.
It might make me a bad person, but seeing Zoe drool over the man who only has eyes for me makes me all kinds of happy.
“Morning, boyfriend,” I say, a little too loudly.
When he reaches me, he murmurs, “Good morning, girlfriend,” before cupping the back of my head and drawing me in for a kiss.
All thoughts of Zoe and Phoebe are immediately forgotten. Actually, all thoughts that don’t revolve around how amazing his mouth is are also forgotten.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you two,” Avery says beside us. “I just had breakfast, and I don’t need to see that. I think I liked it better when you were broken up and would just passive-aggressively eye-fuck each other all day. There was definitely less visible tongue. Get a freaking room.”
“Good idea,” Ethan says. He grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway toward the makeup room, then shuts the door and pulls something from his bag.
He holds it out and says, “Happy birthday.”
I’m surprised he remembered. And pleased. I wanted him to remember without reminding him. As petty as it sounds, he’s passed some sort of boyfriend test.
Having said that, I eye the thing in his hands dubiously. It looks like a tornado of paper and tape got caught on something kind of rectangular.
He shrugs. “Yeah … so, I suck at wrapping. I’ve been trying to hide it from you, but … there it is.”
I smile and rip off the paper. Inside is Ethan’s old, beaten copy of The Outsiders.
“Oh, wow.” Knowing how important this book is to him makes a lump form in my throat. “Ethan…”
“Wait,” he says and opens the front cover. “Look.”
On the title page there’s a message: “To Cassie, on your 21st birthday. Ethan tells me you’re a very special young lady. I hope your future is as bright as the sun. Stay gold. Warmest regards, S. E. Hinton.”
“Oh my God.” I look up at Ethan. His amount of smugness is now off the charts. “You got her to sign it for me?”
He nods. “E-mailed her over the summer. She was really nice and agreed to sign. I mailed it to her a few days later, and she sent it back within the week.”
“Over the summer? But … we weren’t even back together then.”
He pauses, sheepish that he just gave himself away. “I know. But I wanted to be. I couldn’t stand the thought of getting through another year without you.”
“What if I’d said no?”
He shrugs. “I would have still given it to you. It’s your twenty-first birthday. It’s special.” He kisses me gently, so open and relaxed. “You’re special.”
I stroke his face. “This is unbelievable.”
He kisses me again. “So you like it?”
“Like it? This is…” I shake my head, trying not to tear up. “This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. I love it.” I want to say, “I love you,” but the words get stuck. Instead I kiss him and whisper, “Thank you.”
Maybe I’ve been wrong about him being able to change. Perhaps this second chance is exactly what we need, and it took us being apart to make him realize what we have is more important than his fear.
Whatever the reason, I’m grateful. I feel myself falling for him even harder than before, and right now, I don’t think I could stop myself even if I wanted to.
He hugs me, and I’m glad his T-shirt is black so the tears of happiness that bully their way onto my cheeks are camouflaged.
I look over at Dr. Kate, well aware that I’m blushing.
She gives me a small smile. “So, for a while, you were happy together?”
“Yes. Really happy. At least, I was. Looking back, I realize it was only a few months. Not long enough.”
She writes in her notebook. “When did things start to change?”
My tension starts to rise. “I don’t know the exact moment. It happened gradually.”
“Did it have a specific trigger?”