“You mean you met someone you want to date?”

“Yes.”

Mariah’s face fell. “Oh.”

“Does that make you sad?”

She set her pizza down. “Kind of.”

My chest tightened, and I reached across the table for her hand. “Is it that you feel scared I won’t want to spend time with you anymore? Because that would never happen.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just . . . I was hoping you would date Miss Cheyenne. Not some new person.”

My jaw fell open. “You were hoping I’d date Miss Cheyenne?”

“Well, yes.” She shrugged. “I love Miss Cheyenne. And she comes over a lot. And she needs a boyfriend, so I thought maybe it could be you.”

I laughed, letting go of her hand. “She needs a boyfriend?”

“Yes. Well, she didn’t say it like that, but I’m pretty sure she wants one.”

I shook my head, amazed. “Mariah, I do want to date Cheyenne. That’s who I’m talking about.”

She perked right up. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Yay!” She picked up her pizza again and took another bite.

I waited for her to say something else—put up some semblance of resistance—but she didn’t.

There was no fucking way this could be that easy.

I scratched my head. “Do you—do you want to ask me anything?”

Mariah chomped on her pizza for a moment. “Are you guys going to get married?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

“I think you should. Then she can live with us.”

My head was spinning. “Well . . . I’ll think about that.”

“But Daddy, if you’re going to ask her to marry you, you should definitely take off that other wedding ring you wear. It might make her feel bad.”

My jaw hung open. “It won’t—it wouldn’t—bother you if I took it off? You once asked me to wear it every day.”

“Did I?” She looked surprised and amused, as if she were hearing a cute story about something she’d done as a toddler.

“Yes. When you were afraid I’d get remarried and move away.”

“Oh,” she said, nodding in understanding. “Yeah, I remember that. It was, like, in kindergarten.”

“Right.”

“I don’t think that anymore. I know you wouldn’t leave me.”

“That’s true,” I said seriously. “I would never leave you.”

“If you did get married to Miss Cheyenne, would you have kids?”

I was beginning to feel like I was being pranked. “I haven’t thought about that either.”

“I really want a little sister,” she said. “But not a little brother, so don’t have any boy babies.”

“Okay,” I said, laughing nervously. “Well, I’m not sure it works like that, but I’m glad to know you’re open to the idea of being a big sister.”

She grinned. “I am. I think I’d be a really good big sister.”

“I think so too.” I stared at the pizza on my plate like it was a foreign object, then looked up at Mariah again, hardly recognizing her. “You’re sure you’re okay with this? You’re not worried at all?”

“No. Should I be?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Not at all. I just . . . want to be sure I’m addressing all your concerns. I know sometimes you worry about me.”

“But you said I shouldn’t worry.” Her face grew uneasy, and I told myself to stop digging around for a problem where there clearly wasn’t one.

“That’s right—you shouldn’t. Nothing is going to change just because Cheyenne and I like being together.”

“Good. So are you like . . . in love?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to relax. “Now you’re just being silly.”

“It’s not silly. I want to know,” she said, setting her slice of pizza down again. “Because it has to be the kind of love that’s real, not the kind that wears the fancy costume. Because that kind fades away, and she doesn’t want that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I feel like I’m on another planet right now.”

Mariah sighed, like she was the parent trying to explain something, and I was the kid refusing to get it. “Never mind. Just make sure you love her the right way.”

“I’ll try. Is that all?”

“That’s all. Can we eat now?”

“Yes.” I picked up my pizza and took a bite without tasting it.

Was this for real? Just like that, there was nothing standing in the way of Cheyenne and I being together? No resistance? No tears? No fight?

I couldn’t help feeling like I’d just been handed the keys to the castle, but the place had been unlocked to begin with.

Where was the moat? Where was the drawbridge?

Where was the goddamn dragon?

Twenty

Cheyenne

I was on pins and needles all night.

My mother had gone out with friends, and Blair had asked if I wanted to come over and hang out with her and Griffin, but I’d said no. I knew I wouldn’t be good company.

Instead I spent the evening alone, baking sugar cookies, nibbling the dough, and watching stop-motion animated Christmas specials.

Around nine-thirty, my phone rang. It was Cole.

“Hello?” I answered breathlessly, as if I’d been running a marathon and not buried beneath blankets on the couch.

“Hey.”

I sat up straight. “How did it go? Did you talk to her?”

“I did, and it went fine.”

“Oh my God, Cole, really? She was okay?” I clutched my heart in relief.

“She seems okay.”

“I’m so glad! Aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I am.” There was something odd in his voice, as if a but was coming, but he didn’t go on.

“So you’re home now?” I asked.

“Yes. Just put her to bed and snuck into my room to call you. How was your night?”

“Good. I have the house to myself. My mom is out.” I changed up my tone to sound more suggestive. “She’ll be gone at least another couple hours . . .”

“Oh yeah?” His tone changed too.

“Yes. Can you come over?”

“I’m on my way.”

Frantic and excited, I ran upstairs, tore off my socks and sweatpants, took down my hair, and brushed my teeth. Two minutes later, he was knocking on my front door.

I pulled it open wearing nothing but a short white T-shirt. “Evening, Officer Mitchell. Can I help you?”

“I don’t think so,” he said, taking in my bare legs. He came in and shut the door behind him. “You see, I’m here to arrest you.”

“Arrest me—oh dear,” I said, backing up the stairs, a hand on my chest. “There must be some mistake. What’s my crime?”

He followed, pursuing me as he unbuckled his belt and slipped it from the loops. “Indecent exposure. Disturbing the peace. Making me want you so fucking badly I can’t see straight.”