You aren’t perfect, and neither am I, but I adore every imperfect part of you just as much as the perfect ones. I’ve even begun to watch your favorite show, Dating Roulette, despite how much time they spend by...
The pool. Lord, the singles were always by the pool. Dash plucked out three gummy worms, ate them all at once, and ran out of the work-out room and toward the pool. When he got outside, he ran past benches and tables where other people in the program were already meeting and spending time with their loved ones. He couldn’t waste another moment without seeing her. He ran as fast as he could toward the pool, which was perched on top of a hill that overlooked the mountainsides. When he got there, bags of candy were scattered around the deck like roses. A giant balloon arch curved over the top of a table, and on the table were bowls of various kinds of gummy candies. But the most important thing was missing: Sophie.
“Soph?” he called out as he walked the perimeter of the pool. “Sophie?”
“I’m coming!” she called back to him.
He frowned as he looked over the hedges surrounding the pool. He searched and eventually saw her climbing up the hill, carrying a large box. She smiled up to him and his eyes began to sting with the threat of tears.
He hadn’t known how much his body had missed her until he saw her there. She was radiant, in a deep emerald sundress with a plunging neckline. And he was grateful they were up so high, because the wind coming off the mountains sent a breeze that blew her dress tightly around her so he could see the gorgeous lines of her curves. He saw nothing but her as he sprinted. When he reached her, he took the box out of her hands, set it down beside them, then lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her mouth to his. He tasted salt and lemons and the sweetest kiss he’d ever known.
They eventually pulled apart, and she looked into his eyes and said, “I didn’t realize you’d figure out the clues so quickly. I had to run in these wedges just to catch up. I’m exhausted!”
“I couldn’t help but run. I’ll always run toward you from now on.”
“I’ll make sure not to scale any mountains from now on, then.” She beamed at him.
He laughed.
“I saw your text.” She ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up and curling her fingertips against his scalp. “And we’re okay, since you asked.”
“Good.” He smiled widely at her. “What’s this?” He pulled her arm away and gawked at the ink he saw on her wrist—what looked to be a deep black line and a small turquoise heart just above it.
“I got a tattoo.” She shrugged, like it was no big deal that he’d been gone for two weeks and she suddenly had a tat.
“What, uh, what is it of?” He twisted her arm slightly to examine the design.
“It’s an em-dash, which is my favorite kind of punctuation to use. But the em-dash is also misunderstood and some people kind of hate it. I think it’s a bit of a rebel without a clause, though.”
“Oh, my God, talk grammar to me.” He hugged her in tighter. “And the heart?”
“Well, whenever I use an em-dash now, I can’t help but think of how you helped bring me back to my writing. And, you know, your name. I added the little blue heart, because it’s the color of your eyes, and I do love those eyes. But to me, this tattoo symbolizes how much I love you.”
He looked at her then, and she smiled back at him. “I love you, Dash Montrose.”
They both stilled, but he placed his hand on her cheek and rubbed his thumb in slow circles, as he realized that Sophie was saying these words for the first time...and to him.
“This is...” He was at a loss. He hadn’t known that I love you would be a massive turn-on, but he was definitely hard.
“Dash, no, not yet.” She pointed an accusatory finger at his pants. “I have a speech I memorized to whisk you off your feet! And you know how great I am with speeches.”
“Well, who am I to deny an award-winning speechwriter?” He set Sophie down on the ground, and she took his hands in hers as she looked into his eyes.
“Okay.” She shook out her shoulders before she finally looked up at him. The world slowed as he saw himself reflected in her eyes, and there was nothing but love. “Dash, in the places where we’ve both been broken, being together makes me feel whole. As soon as I fell in love with you, I knew I couldn’t be without you. I’ve never been in love before, but I know what love is because of you. I write about people falling in love. I fantasize about what that feels like for my job. But I did not realize how much sweeter the reality of loving someone else would be. It will be impossible to fully capture what loving you feels like for a book, but I tried.”
Then she turned to pick up the box, which was wrapped in a matte black bow, and handed it to him. He untied the bow and opened the box to discover a stack of pages—a new manuscript. Her new manuscript. The title across the top page read Second Chance Summer.
“This is our story?” he asked.
“It’s inspired by our story,” Sophie clarified. “Though, I think our happily-ever-after will be much better.”
“I love you,” Dash said without thinking. “I will love you for the rest of our lives, and I will do everything I can to make you happy.”
He brought her into him and held her face in his hands. She looked to him as she said, “And I will never leave you, Dash. Even when things get hard, I will be here.”
He wove his fingers through her hair, and she wrapped her arms around his back. She tilted her chin up to meet his mouth, but he said, “I don’t want to crack a joke.”
“Then, don’t.” Her voice was throaty, and her nails dug into his shoulder blades.
“But you said even when things get hard...” He pressed his hardness against her, and she rolled her eyes, but a smile crossed her lips.
“I love you, despite that joke.” She laughed.
And then he kissed her, and she kissed him back. And he knew that all the roads he’d been down, the broken and bruised ones, had all led him to her, and he would never regret that.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Sophie stood outside the entrance to Seize the Clay, the pottery studio slash showroom Dash had opened a month prior. The windows were lined with matte bowls, etched flowerpots, ornate wall art, and dishes so flawless they resembled a layered cake when stacked together. Each piece was a work of art and handcrafted by her boyfriend.
Today was the pub day of her book, Second Chance Summer, which her editor had, thankfully, agreed to read and liked enough to publish. So while Sophie had a busy day of visiting local indie bookstores to sign copies of her book, she wanted to make a stop to see Dash first.