Page 104 of The Romantic Agenda
Now that they’re not in the cabin, things will be different. She can feel it. He’s had time to think about it and change his mind about her.
She won’t be able to handle it because it’s Fox.
Fox.
And then he sees her. His smile is slow and deliberate. The rest of the room melts away as he approaches her, arms raised for her hug. She practically leaps into them, burying her face into his neck, holding him as tight as she can.
Fox smells different—it’s sawdust, dirt, and sweat. He touches her face, fingers tracing her jaw, before he wraps his arms around her again and whispers, “Hey, hey.”
Joy laughs, pulling back to look at him. “Hallo.”
Summer had the right idea. It isn’t about who comes first or second in someone’s heart. JoywantsFox—independent of Malcolm and not at all as a consolation prize.
Joy’s desire for Fox stand on its own as what could be. As what she hopes will be. She forgot how terrifying and exhilarating this realization feels. That once again, there’s amoretowant.To decide to not run away from it, to not wait, to not hide. She’s choosing Fox. And hoping with all her heart he’ll choose her too.
“Ooh shit, Summer wasn’t kidding.” Fiona stands to their left with a huge kid-in-a-candy-store smile on her face. “Don’t mind me. I’m just standing here—continue. Please.” She places her elbows on the counter, cradling her face in her hands, lookingback and forth between them. Behind her, almost every face mirrors Fiona’s, but not Malcolm’s—he’s focusing on the table, jaw set—and Summer’s—she’s focusing on Malcolm.
Suddenly, Summer lifts her gaze and meets Joy’s. There’s no hurt or upset. Just that same patient understanding she had while they sat together on the cabin’s porch.
Fox clears his throat, arms falling to his sides, and Joy takes a step back from him.
Fiona says, “I can’twaitto tell Mom.”
“Tell Mom what, exactly?” Fox rumbles.
“Don’t you grump at me.”
Fox glances at Joy. “Do you see what you started?”
She laughs. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t have told hereverything.”
Twenty-Nine
Joy doesn’t stay at Summer’s house past eight p.m. It’s a work night after all.
Fox walks her to her car with promises to call her later and confirming their plans for her to visit his workshop. Once she’s at home, she does a speed-run through her nighttime routine, hoping to already be in bed by the time Fox calls her for their next movie date.
Well, he didn’t call it that. Joy decided some creative, hopeful liberties were in order.
Someone knocks on her door as she’s pouring Sleepytime tea into her favorite giraffe mug. She checks the peephole first—her breath catches in her throat, and she quickly unlocks the door to open it. “Malcolm. Hi. What are you doing here?”
He’s standing in her hallway, rubbing his forehead, anxiety levels clearly on the rise. “Can I come in?”
“Of course. Yeah.”
Joy steps to the side, and he barely enters her apartment. Hestops near the couch, not sitting or moving beyond it. She knows this stance—whatever it is he has to say is important enough to stress him out like he’s about to give a big presentation at work. Once he’s in the thick of it, he’s smooth as butter, working the attendees until they’re putty in the palm of his hand. But before? It’s DEFCON 2. Joy always has to talk him down and gas him up.
“Malcolm,” Joy says, using her patented best friend calming voice. “Is everything okay?”
“Do you remember how we met?” Malcolm doesn’t wait for an answer, instead telling the entire story by himself, but when he gets to the part where Joy asked for his number, it suddenly changes. “I waited all day for you to text me. Checking my phone and getting my hopes up that maybe you wanted to hang out. That day passed. And then another. And then it was a week later. I still couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Joy’s frown feels intensely epic. She’s positive, absolutely sure he’s never told her that last part before.
He continues, “I couldn’t get you and the way you smiled at me out of my head. I figured you just forgot about me. I didn’t see you anywhere on campus. A friend of mine said they saw someone who looked like you around his dorm. I went there every day hoping to see you. But you disappeared. I started beating myself up because I found my dream girl and she got away. You didn’t tell me your name, so I started calling you Cinderella.”
When Malcolm resumes the story with the ending Joy knows, her heart must be going for a new bpm world record because she’s breathless and weak, like she’s been running for several miles. Or years.
“After we went to lunch, I knew I was going to fall in love with you. And then I did.”
