Page 46 of Love By the Book
She taps her headphones to pause the music, lifts the flyer, then looks up at me. “Skydiving?” Her nose wrinkles adorably. I want to kiss it until she laughs, until she clenches her fingers into my hair. “The Council doesn’t really trust these human-run attractions and?—”
“Life’s an adventure, right?” I’m practically bouncing on my feet. “It terrifies me. Which is exactly why we should do it.”
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the exact second my enthusiasm infects her. A slow smile spreads across her face. “You know what? You’re right. Let’s do it.”
“I am never, ever doing that again,” I declare, still shaking slightly as we walk along the beach. My toes sink deep into the sand as if I need to remind myself that I made it safely back on land and survived. I’m not sure my brain has received the memo yet. “Ever.”
Rhianna laughs, her eyes bright and her braided hair windblown. “Are you kidding? That was amazing! The wayeverything looked so small, like we were on top of the world! We have to do it again.”
“Absolutely not.” But I’m laughing too. Her excitement and joy has enraptured me from the moment we met. “Once was enough to prove I’m not completely set in my ways.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She bumps her shoulder into mine then twines our hands together. “You filled out those liability forms like they were going to be archived in the Library of Congress.”
“Maybe they will be. Future historians could study them as evidence of my temporary insanity.” I squeeze her hand. Everything about our bodies touching feels natural. “Exhibit A: The day Professor Eli Lancaster willingly jumped out of a perfectly sound, functioning airplane.”
The sun sets over the water, painting everything in soft gold. Rhianna’s skin glows in the light and I want to kiss the freckles that follow her cheekbone. She’s changed everything. Less than three months ago, I was living life according to a carefully plotted schedule. Now I’m jumping out of planes and falling in love and…
And I need to decide whether I’m leaving or staying before the next semester begins.
I need to tell her. We need to talk about what this means, what we want, what’s possible. I know she’s still hesitant and I remember the terms we set. No strings. She can walk away any time she wants. Maybe bringing this up means risking that she will. But I don’t want just a few more weeks with Rhianna Wilder. I want forever. I want skydiving in the sunshine and holding her through the storms. I want every bit of glitter and laughter, every twist and turn in between.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I start, my heart thundering against my ribs. “Being with you has made me realize?—”
“Come to dinner with my parents?” she blurts, too fast, like the words escaped before she could think them through.
I blink. There’s a pause—half confusion, half trying to remember how to breathe. She’s cutting me off. She’s cutting off the conversation I’ve been building toward for days.
Then it hits me. She’s inviting me to meet her parents.
She misreads the silence and barrels ahead. “I mean, you don’t have to. My parents can be a lot. My mom will definitely psychoanalyze you, and my dad will quiz you on obscure Romantic poets before you even get a bite of bread, and?—”
“I want to,” I say, my voice coming out softer than I expect. “I want that, Rhianna.”
She goes still, and for a moment, the air between us tightens—not with tension, but with understanding. A shift. Something is changing.
Her fingers tremble slightly, but then she smiles, tentative and real. “Yeah,” she whispers. “I think I want that too. Let’s…. Let’s save our big, probably-too-much-for-a-Tuesday conversation for after.” She lifts her chin like she’s joking, but her voice wobbles just a little. “I’ve got things to tell you too. And I need time to prepare. Maybe make some glittery posters. Possibly a tri-fold. So… y’know, brace yourself, Lancaster.” Then, more softly, “How does Saturday sound?”
I nod too fast and too eager because my throat suddenly feels tight with everything I don’t know how to say. “Saturday sounds perfect.”
She beams, and the lightness returns to her eyes, but I can still feel the weight of what just passed between us. I don’t need to wait for Saturday’s conversation to know where we stand. She’s letting me meet her parents. She’s giving me a piece of her future—even if she’s too scared to name it yet. And for me, that’s enough.
The decision is made before I even realize I’m making it.
I’m staying.
I’ll email the university tomorrow and tell them I’m transitioning to remote work through the fall. Maybe longer. Maybe for good.
This is it. The risk I took—hell, maybe bold move one, two, and three all wrapped into one—landed me here. Here in Magnolia Cove. Here with Rhianna Wilder.
And in four days, we’ll have that conversation. The big one. Possibly accompanied by glitter.
And I’m so excited, I can hardly stand it.
“Come on.” I tug her forward. “Let’s get ice cream?”
The tension in her expression washes away, her shoulders dropping. “I know the best place. How do you feel about jazz?”
I let her lead me up the beach, the setting sun glistening over her windblown curls. And as the waves roll in behind us, all I can think is: let it all come. I’m ready.
