Page 95 of The Good Boy

I’m dressed and running down the stairs when there’s a knock at the door.

“Now that’s what I call service,” Rory says. “I haven’t even ordered the pizza yet because I wasn’t sure if we were going to the airport or not. Oh, Genie, you look nice! Are we having a party?”

“It’s not the pizza man, you dork,” I tell him. I know who it is. I hand him a CD. “Cue this up to track twelve and when I tell you to, press play, okay?”

“I don’t even know what this is,” Rory says.

“Figure it out, then!”

I open the door and Miles is standing there wearing an emerald-green leopard-print shirt with a pussy bow. It matches my dress perfectly.

“Genie,” he says. “I’ve been carrying this shirt around for... well, a long time. I thought... I thought one day I’d just put it on and you’d remember, but when you saw it in the rucksack and never mentioned it... I thought it was too late. But the thing is—”

“No, wait!” I stop him. “Miles, I have to complete my quest-adjacent quest.”

I take his hands in mine.

“Milesington, you were there for me on the most peculiar day of my life, no questions asked. And you were there for me on the saddest.” I think for a moment. “You have always been there on the most fun and happiest days too, because a lot of the time it’s you that makes them that way. You’ve always shown me that you care for me, and somehow I didn’t really understand how much I care for you until I turned my dog into a man.”

“I know and—” Miles tries to interrupt me but I press my finger to his lips. A rather startling move, I’ll admit.

“Rory, press play,” I call into the living room.

“Hang on!” Rory calls.

“Rory...?”

About fifteen seconds of silence pass by and just when I think I’m going to have to go in there and do it myself, the opening notes to “All I Want for Christmas Is You” fill the summer evening air.

“You are the kindest, nerdiest, sexiest man I have ever known. I am so in love with you that I can’t think or breathe or eat until I am sure you know that you mean everything to me. We started something fifteen years ago. If it’s okay with you, I’d really like to finish it now.”

Stepping out onto the pavement, I take Miles’s hands in mine. Standing on my toes, I search his eyes. He smiles. And finally,finally, I know what it’s like to kiss the man I love.

My arms wind around his neck, his hands pull me close to him, and out of a clear blue sky on a warm August evening, snow begins to slowly fall just for us. The streetlights flicker on in all the colors of the rainbow, and the music from the living room seems to fill the evening as our feet float a good four inches into the air. I know all of this, I see and I feel it, and I know that I am making it happen, because I am happy and because, like every other female in my family line—likeeverywomaneverywhere—I have magic running through my veins.

And at exactly the same time I’m oblivious to it all, because all I can think about is kissing Miles and Miles kissing me.

“Like, so now can we order pizza?” Rory asks. “Like the song’s repeated three times already and I think you might be at risk of frostbite.”

When Miles and I pull apart we are both grinning just like the stupid kids we used to be.

Miles looks around at the snow. “Genie, how is this possible?”

“Good things are always possible,” I tell him. “Look at you. Want to come in for pizza?”

“Not tonight. We’ve got all the time in the world.” Miles shakes his head. “There’s no rush. Let’s to do it right, like we just met last week.”

“I’m some ways, I kind of think we did,” I say.

“Good night, Eugenie,” he says. “I’ll be thinking about that kiss all night. See you tomorrow.”

“See you then,” I say. We kiss again, more gently this time. Careful and tender, our eyes lock for a long moment before we part again. The snow settles on the pavement outside my door, defying the warmth of the night.

“’Night,” I say, closing the door.

Three seconds later there’s another knock.

Miles is standing there.

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