Page 46 of Somebody to Love You

“I think,” I continue, “as I get older, I’m realizing that I was really, really lonely for a lot of my childhood.” I worry my bottom lip with my teeth. “I still am, sometimes.”

“Still?” he asks, scooting a little closer to me, letting our hips touch.

“I just…” I shrug. “I just want to know what it’s like to go to a big family holiday or get Christmas cards in the mail.” I flatten my ice cream with my tongue and bite into the cone. “When I was growing up, I literally thought things like that were the absolute coolest. I’d ask Audrey all these questions about the family stuff she did, and she never understood why because it was all just normal and mundane to her.”

I feel vulnerable after saying all this, and it takes me a moment to lift my eyes to Maverick’s. The tips of his ears are beginning to turn red under the blazing sun; I offered him sunscreen this morning, but he declined.

He licks his spoon thoughtfully. “I know the whole DNA search has been frustrating,” he says, “but you know finding your mom isn’t your only chance at getting that family you want. You can build your own.”

I look over at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll meet a guy and get married, and you’ll have your own kids. If that’s what you want, I mean.”

“I do,” I admit so quietly I almost can’t hear myself.

“That family can be anything you want it to be, Zale. You can have as many kids as you want, and they can each have kids, and maybe in your old age you’ll be the grandma hosting the big family Christmas you never got.” Maverick pauses, then nudges my shoulder with his own. “Maybe I’ll be the grandpa telling dumb jokes and pulling quarters out of people’s ears.”

My heart stops. Literally stops.

We look at each other for a long time. His expression is a strange mix of trepidation and delight—simultaneously worried about my reaction to what he said and pleased that he’s been able to render me speechless.

Pay attention to the way he looks at you.

Yeah. I’m paying attention.

“You really want to do this, don’t you?” I ask.

Maverick raises a hand to guard his eyes against the sun. “I do.”

“Even though you’re leaving?”

“Even though I’m leaving.”

I lick my cone and take another moment to look out at the water. It’s beautiful and calm, stretching out in front of us with no end in sight. “Okay.”

Maverick perks up, looking hopeful. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” I bump his shoulder with mine, smiling so big my cheeks hurt. “Okay.”

Chapter Eighteen

Maverick

WhenIwakeupthe next morning, my first coherent thought is:I got her.

I put myself out there, admitted my feelings, and nothing was ruined. Everything gotbetter.With my life being so full of worst-case scenarios lately, I was wholly unprepared for the opposite.

I still have my best friend, but now I get to kiss her and hold her and sleep beside her. I get to imagine alifewith her.

It’s the absolute most I could have hoped for.

Azalea was restless all night and wakes up shortly after I do. We make out lazily for a while, our hands skating slowly over each other’s bodies. When we start to push the boundary that we decided on last night after our date—nothing below the waist, not yet—Azalea pulls away, a grin dancing on her swollen lips. She pushes herself up on all fours and crawls to the foot of the bed while I stare, mesmerized, unsure whether she’s doing it for my benefit or simply because it's the quickest route to the bathroom.

We drive out of the city against rush hour traffic, interlaced fingers resting on Azalea’s thigh. Her shoes are off, head tilted back against the headrest, hair piled on top of her head. She stares sleepily out the window, and I try to keep from staring at her.

“Now what?” she asks eventually.

I allow myself a quick glance over at her. “We go home.”

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