Page 143 of The Thought of You

Her dedication to ruthlessly backing me up does help me relax, if only a fraction.

“Owen’s funny. He’ll appreciate this,” Caroline adds.

“Well, he’s more than just funny,” I say.

“Of course,” Maren chimes in. “He’s also a really good kisser. What did you say about him—that he’s phenomenal? That he made you believe in magic?”

“Whoa.” Caroline’s wide eyes land on me like she doesn’t know me. “I need more of these details, ma’am.”

“Right now, we need to focus and hope for a stroke of magic,” I say, completely serious, because this will either be the best night of my romantic life so far, or it’ll be the worst.

Austin approaches us, his costume tragically uninspired, as he arrives in simple coveralls dressed as a… mechanic.

“Great costume. How long did it take for you to come up with that?” I ask sarcastically.

He barely cracks a grin as he gives me a once-over. “What are you supposed to be—friendly Satan?”

“That’s not what this S is for.” I gesture over the front of me, but he’s stops listening before I finish my sentence. Instead, he nuzzles his nose into the crook of Caroline’s neck.

They’re blissfully in love, and a twang of jealousy hits me square in the chest.

I want that. I could’ve had that had I not been too scared.

I’m still scared, but there’s a difference now—I’m not going to let fear and the unknown stop me from being happy.

Rain and my father have helped me come around. Rain left a few days ago, singing about her work being done here, and as promised, my father visited me this weekend. His flight left for Louisiana earlier this afternoon.

He was serious about making amends. He even arrived without my stepmom. I love her, but in hindsight, Dad often uses her as a buffer, like he needs a crutch to hang out with me. Without her around this weekend, he and I were able to connect in ways we used to before the divorce.

It left me feeling much better than our previous phone call.

The lightness in my chest is what stops me from running for the hills right now.

Sharply inhaling, I hold my head high and loop my arm through Maren’s. “I’m ready.”

“I don’t think I am,” she mumbles as Nate high-fives Austin, then adjusts the suspenders over his shoulders.

He’s a fireman, and if Maren stares at him any longer, there might be a real fire to put out when she combusts. She’s practically sweating.

“Hey,” I say, nudging her to stay behind as Nate, Austin, and Caroline lead the way inside. “If you’re serious about meeting someone new, this is your night. You are so hot in this Wonder Woman costume.”

“You don’t think I’m trying too hard, do you?” She adjusts the headpiece higher into her hair. “It’s not too hot, right?”

“There’s no such thing as too hot. It’s perfect. Now go get some.” I smack her on the ass and gesture for her to go inside.

But she doesn’t immediately budge. “I’m not going to sleep with anyone all willy-nilly tonight.” She scoffs.

“I was talking about some numbers and dates.” I shrug, feigning innocence.

“Right,” she draws out and slowly saunters inside.

Once she disappears, I freeze as Owen takes her previous spot.

My instant frown reaches every part of my body, carrying with it the gloom of a hundred rainy days.

He’s not wearing the Skittles costume I left on his doorstep last night. He’s not wearing any kind of costume, and I’m a big red dope.

“Hi.” His small smile throws me off. Does he think this is funny? Is he laughing at me?

---