Page 84 of Resisting the Running Back

She sighs. “I feel like I should have stronger feelings than I do. You know? Like I should be upset and crying, but it sort of just feels like it is what it is.”

“I get that. Did you know Missy Nash and Eddie got divorced after forty years of marriage?”

“I guess I’d heard that. Doesn’t it kind of make you feel like we’re all destined to fail?” she asks.

I squeeze her hand. “Nah. If anything, I think it makes me feel like it’s never too late to start over.”

“But Missy’s here by herself. Is that starting over?”

I lift a shoulder. “Who knows what she’s up to. Maybe she and your dad will find their way to each other.”

She lets out a little cackle. “Oh my God. Could you imagine?”

I chuckle. “Whatever happens, don’t you think your parents are better off apart if they’re unhappy?”

“I think maybe that’s why I don’t feel all that upset over it. I haven’t been close with my parents in a long, long time. Probably since high school, and then I moved out during college and never looked back. But maybe I won’t feel this pressure to be the perfect girl anymore now that they know the truth.”

“You’re pretty damn perfect to me, Summers.” I let go of her hand and slip an arm around her shoulder.

She leans her head on my shoulder as we continue walking. “You’re pretty damn perfect, too, Banks.”

We make our way past one of the pools, and I spot a row of vacant cabanas in the back row that are hidden beneath the shadows. It’s sort of a daybed with a wicker frame and a retractable canopy with a shade on it that’s meant to block the sun. A big cushion that’s almost like a mattress is calling us to lie down, and the pillows across the back look like a great place to lean back as we chat about anything and everything.

I walk over toward one, and we both sit and scoot back, putting our feet up as we lean back into the pillows.

“This is nice,” she says. “It feels like we can’t get any privacy with both our families on this boat unless we’re in our stateroom.”

“Watch this,” I say, and I flip the retractable shade screen on top of the cabana. At night, it becomes the perfect place for privacy.

She giggles, and we settle back in.

“I have a question,” she says.

“Go for it.”

“We haven’t really talked about this, and I feel kind of weird even asking, but…” She trails off, and a pulse of nervousness darts down my spine.

“But?” I prompt.

“But when February gets here, are you, uh, planning to actually walk down the aisle?”

It’s everything I’ve wanted since I was fourteen, Sophie.

I blow out a breath without saying those words even though they’re on the tip of my tongue.

And then maybe because of the salty sea air, or maybe because of the piña coladas and the rum drink…or maybe because something unlocked in her tonight when she found out about her parents’ divorce, she says, “Because I am.”

A sort of grunt escapes me at her admission, and I’m left without words for a moment.

“And not because we just told my parents about it or whatever. Because I want to.”

She turns a little on the cabana cushion, and then it’s like she makes a snap decision. She moves over me, straddling my lap, and she drops her lips to mine for just a few sweet seconds before she pulls back. She takes my face between her palms, and I can hardly see her in here with the shade screen in place.

Maybe that’s what’s fueling her confession—the darkness.

“Because the last few months have been the greatest of my life, and I realized that you’re everything I’ve ever been looking for, Miller. You’re the ultimate book boyfriend. You’re always there for me. You care about me. You make me laugh. And I want to marry you because I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Holy shit.

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