I shook my head. He couldn’t be more wrong. “Nate . . .”
“But I never got one. No e-mail in my inbox. And then you left that message alluding to an email, and I was absolutely confused.” Nate pushed his fingers through his hair. “So I checked, and somehow your e-mail went to my spam folder. Maybe it was the lame subject line.”
“Hey, now.”
He smiled. “As soon as I read it, I grabbed my keys and hit the road. Then I got here and realized two things. I’d forgotten my stupid flip phone at home, and I had no idea where the reception was.”
I cupped my hand over my mouth.
“I walked around town square asking anyone I could find, until someone finally led me here. To you.”
“Stand by Me” gave way to another song—“I’ve Got You under My Skin” by Frank Sinatra. More people joined the dance floor, pushing Nate and I together.
“Since I came all this way”—he spread his hand on the small of my back and drew me closer—“would you let me have at least one dance?”
I slipped my hand in his, smiling so wide I wasn’t sure I’d ever stop. His nearness made my insides tingle. I felt so light I thought I might float right off the dance floor. And oh my goodness, his cologne. Seriously, what was it called—heaven in a bottle?
“So, twenty-four.” He flung me out, then pulled me back in again. “Any more guesses?”
“Number of cats you’d like to own someday?”
His chest rumbled with laughter.
“Am I at least getting close?”
“Not by a long shot.” We swayed to the beat, his tempo flawless. “You were right, what you said on the phone. This could be complicated.”
I held my breath.
“But I have to say, Amelia, I’d rather have a complicated relationship with you than an uncomplicated relationship with anybody else.”
The words were too good to be true. He was too good to be true. And he really was. Of course he had flaws. Real flaws (not the charming ones he admitted to in his e-mails), the kind that might really, as Frank Sinatra sang, get under my skin someday. I couldn’t wait to get to know what they were.
“Hey,” he murmured into my hair.
“Hey, what?”
“Cinderella’s finally dancing at the ball.”
Our pacing slowed, no longer in tune with Frank’s beat.
Nate drew my body to his, slid his broad hands up my ribcage, and kissed me in the middle of the dance floor at my baby brother’s wedding. A fire-in-my-belly, light-headed, world-spinning, weak-in-the-knees kiss. The kind fairy tales were made of. I clasped my fingers around Nate Gallagher’s neck and kissed him right back.
Award-winning author, Katie Ganshert graduated from the University of Wisconsin in Madison with a degree in education and worked as a fifth grade teacher for several years before staying home to write full-time. She was born and raised in the Midwest, where she lives with her family. When she’s not busy penning novels or spending time with her people, she enjoys drinking coffee with friends, reading great literature, and eating copious amounts of dark chocolate.
YOU CAN LEARN MORE ABOUT KATIE AND HER BOOKS BY VISITING HER WEBSITE KATIEGANSHERT.COM OR AUTHOR FACEBOOK PAGE.
For the One who makes all things possible, even novellas.
Thank you for entrusting me with this ministry and for
equipping me to write each and every page.
Josh,
Since I broke up with you, I can’t stop crying. Can you please forgive me? I love you. I’m certain I’ll always love you.
Today would have been our eight-month anniversary. When you left for MIT a month and a half ago, I never imagined that we wouldn’t keep dating or that I wouldn’t see you again at Thanksgiving. The long-distance thing has been miserable but our marathon phone calls and our back-and-forth e-mails throughout the days were getting me by.
Now I’ve lost all of it, and I’m heartbroken without you.
Here’s what you don’t know and what I can’t tell you. Your mom came to see me. She drove to UT San Antonio, met me in my freshman dorm room, and took me to lunch. She cried, Josh. She cried because she’s so upset over the fact that you’re unhappy at MIT. She said you told her that you wanted to leave and come back to Texas to be near me.
She’s a single mom and you’re her only son and she loves you. My heart went out to her.
You’ve worked so hard. You’re a genius and you’ve earned the financial aid scholarship that MIT offered you. Please understand I don’t want anything to get in the way of that, especially me. You deserve to go there and you have to make the most of this opportunity because your mom can’t afford to pay for you to go to college anywhere else.