From the Jump(93)

I gasp, my heart squeezing. “You did?”

“Well, not exactly me,” he admits. “But it turns out there are upsides to having an army of self-proclaimed fans who won’t leave you alone. Those tweens are savvy online. It only took them four days to hunt him down. Apparently, a couple came home and discovered he’d gotten in the cat door while they were out of town. They turned him into a shelter on Wednesday.”

I close my eyes, not wanting more tears to spill over. “And he’s okay?”

“They said he tilts his nose up at everyone and turns his back when the other cats attempt to engage him.”

I choke out a laugh. “Then he’s okay.”

“Perfect-ola,” Mac says before Deiss can respond. He lets out a piercing whistle, waving Phoebe down when she peers over the edge of the top deck. “You guys are good. And everyone’s good with Simone. Now, Phoebe will let me marry her.”

“Does that mean that Phoebe is good with me?” I ask hopefully. “Because she hasn’t returned any of my calls all week.”

Mac scoffs. “That wasn’t because she was mad. We were just on our honeymoon. Everyone knows you don’t take calls on your honeymoon.”

“You took your honeymoon before the wedding?” I ask.

Mac shrugs, his attention fully on the stairs where Phoebe is descending. “Why not?”

Watching his eyes light up at the sight of her, I don’t even consider arguing. What would I even say? Love rarely follows the rules.



* * *



—

The wedding lasts for two and a half songs, played on Deiss’s phone, which he holds in the air. It’s just long enough for Mac and Phoebe’s vows, the former of which gets a little ramble-y when Mac decides to list the things he loves about her. The sunset is in its final, most magnificent blaze as Connor declares them man and wife, and Elena yells at us to squeeze together while they’re still kissing, capturing the dying day before the bright colors burn out.

Deiss winces as Phoebe demands he play “I Will Always Love You” but acquiesces, reaching for my hand as she and Mac begin to dance. He pulls me to him, scooping the sleeping cat from my arms and passing him to Connor, who is too unaware to be properly afraid. Then he dips me, tugging me into his chest as I come back up, and together we sway to the movement of the waves.

“I’d like to move back in with you,” I whisper in his ear as the song swells. “If you don’t think it would be moving too quickly.”

He grins lazily, his hand drifting down my back. “It’s been eleven years in the making, Liv. We need to make up for lost time.”

And for a moment, I allow myself to picture it: a future with Lucas Deiss.

I can see it so clearly. Our walls changing colors over the years. Coffee in the mornings. Me, building my graphic design business from the counter in his shop. Him, teaching guitar to our child in the back. Our feral little cat, terrorizing everyone. And Cat Stevens, peering at us from under the bed, his eyes sharp with disdain.

It’s breathtakingly perfect.

But then I look around at the little lighted bow, glowing brightly in the middle of a deep dark ocean. Phoebe is shrieking with laughter as Mac spins her around, the white flower in her hair catching in the wind and disappearing from view. Simone is forcing Elena to be in one of her selfies. Stars twinkle up in the distance, like the sky has strung party lights just for us. And I realize there’s no point in looking toward the future.

The present will do just fine.





Acknowledgments


Isaac Waldon, you will always be first on my list of people to thank. You probably assume that’s because you talk me through every single plot point and make me laugh when I’m otherwise tempted to hurl my laptop across the patio. You’d be wrong. I will always thank you first because you’re the voice in my head telling me I can do anything that I put my mind to. You’re my strength and my joy and my heart. You are my everything.

(But also, if I do anything wrong, remember that you just agreed that you’re the voice in my head.)

Thank you to Claire Friedman for being the best agent I could ever ask for. I thought you’d sell my books. I never imagined that you’d also be such a big part in making them. I’m so grateful to have you as a partner. (Seriously, though. My book is super pretty, right? SAY IT.)

Thank you to my editor, Kate Dresser, for all of your brilliant suggestions and guidance. This book is every bit as much yours as it is mine. From our very first conversation, I knew I was lucky to work with you. Naturally, I was right.

Thank you to the amazing team at Putnam. You’re all rock stars, and I’m so grateful that you took a chance on me. Thank you so much for not blocking my email address when I used it in excess.

I wrote this book during the pandemic, so my world felt a lot smaller than normal. I could’ve disappeared inside the writing cave and forgotten that the Earth was still turning outside. These are the people who didn’t allow me to:

Thank you to Autumn, Christina, David, Bill, Little Isaac, Davey, and Riley for being the greatest pod ever. Family Day was the bright spot of every week. I loved it almost as much as I love Trash TV Night. DC wouldn’t be home without all of you.

Thank you to Tina, Amanda, and Keri for being my besties. I love that we could be separated for an entire year but still talk as much as ever. It’s basically scientific proof that nothing will ever be able to keep us apart.