Once Upon a Sure Thing (Heartbreakers #2)(52)

I go to YouTube, and I look up one of Ally’s most famous videos—when she and Kirby sang “Can’t Help Falling in Love,” mashed up with “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

What if we could be a mash-up—friends and lovers?

There’s only one way to find out.





Chapter 32





Ally



I reread the texts the next morning.

They’re just texts, but they’re also so much more.

They’re Miller and me being, well, Miller and me.

They tell me we can go back to the way we were.

But when I shower, I remember Miller’s hands in my hair, and when Chloe and I board the subway, I recall every time I’ve taken the train with him. When we walk toward Bryant Park, and I think of all the times Miller has met me here, there, and everywhere in this city, I know my brother was right.

Miller’s committed, and so am I. Sure, our singing agreement might have a deadline, but our friendship never has. We never have. And if I don’t let him know I want this new us, we’ll never get the chance to work out if Miller and Ally could be a couple with no deadline.

But how the heck do I tell him?

Do I send him a letter? Knock on his door? Do a tap dance?

I push the thoughts aside to zero in on Chloe’s project.

“I think the lion is going to be perfect,” Chloe says, as she angles closer to the statues guarding the building entrance and snaps a photo. She shows it to me on the screen on the back of her camera.

I give her a thumbs-up. “I heartily approve.”

We’re at the New York Public Library because she wanted to take pictures of it for her photography class, and because she wants to check out a book.

She grabs my hand as we head up the steps. “Can you recommend a good young adult story? You might know one or two.”

“Just a few.” I chuckle. “What are you in the mood for? Dystopian tales? Space battles? Epic sagas of magic and vengeance? Contemporary teens dealing with everyday loss and love?”

Her green eyes twinkle. “The last one. Ideally with a heroine cool like you.”

“Ooh, cool like me.”

“I speak the truth.”

“Keep speaking it,” I say, and as we head inside, Chloe takes more photos.

Once we check out several books, we wander down Fifth Avenue, passing a Christmas display at a boutique.

“Do you know what you’re getting Miller for Christmas?” she asks.

“Nope. Any ideas?”

“You could always get him Skittles. You could get him a lifetime supply of hot chocolate. Or you could get him a new version of Bananagrams, since he likes all those things.”

“Santa could hire you as an elf.”

“Or you could get him something else. What’s the thing he wants most in the world?” she asks as we stop at a light.

Instantly, I know the answer.



*

I do some research to confirm my theory. I want to be certain. I also want to be armed. Like a lawyer, I prep to make a case before the jury of one. I gather my evidence. I call upon my best witnesses.

The first order of business is to visit Mackenzie.

She’s not even surprised when I tell her my idea. “It’s brilliant,” she declares.

But she’s not the only one I need on board.

Fortunately, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from all the books I’ve narrated, it’s that a heroine must line up her troops. We head across town to Murray Hill—Chloe, Mackenzie, and me. Campbell is teaching a violin lesson, but Samantha is home. She’s making cherry jam cookies for her Instagram show, and they smell mouthwateringly good.

I tell her my idea.

She claps and practically bounces to the ceiling, like a spring-loaded Tigger.

Then we execute the plan, and if this works, there’s a certain person who’s going to be out of his mind with happiness tomorrow night.



*

When I kiss Chloe goodnight, she’s still a little giddy from our secret plans. “I love your idea, Ally. Will you text me as soon as it happens? Unless you’ve changed your mind and I can come to the show?”

“Sorry, Monkey. You’ll have fun at Hailey’s. I’ll text you, though, as soon as it happens.”

She hugs me, and I feel a sense of peace. I can’t save her from the world, but I can make sure her world with me is safe.

I’ve decided to stop worrying about my ability to take care of her. I’m doing a fierce and fabulous job as her parent.

And nothing and no one will ever change that.





Chapter 33





Miller



At the club the next night, I smooth a hand over my T-shirt in front of the mirror in the men’s room.

“Shoulda worn a sweet suit, man,” Jackson says, sweeping his eyes over me.

“I’m a T-shirt kind of guy.”

“I know, but sometimes you need to break out the swank. A silver blazer and sleek black pants.”

“I would think that’d make it obvious. I want some subtlety.”

“Fair enough. You are one subtle rocker, then, and you rock a T-shirt.”

He’s seventeen so he shouldn’t be here, but the owner made an exception for his documentary, and has required Jackson to wear a plastic bracelet so no one serves him as he shoots videos.