EPILOGUE
CASSIE
March
“I’m worried about Pierre.”
One might expect to hear that from my sisters.
Or my father.
Or maybe even Tate, who’s developed a close relationship with my little sisters’ turtle over these past few months. Dad is constantly texting pictures of Pierre to my boyfriend.
But no, the worry-laced remark comes from none other than Nia, who walks up and slides into the booth next to Dad. The three of us are still finishing up our coffee and dessert; across the restaurant, Tate and the girls are crowded around one of those toy machines where you have to maneuver a claw hand to try and capture one of the plushies in the glass box. Roxy demanded he win them the stuffed turtle, and I’m discovering that Tate is incapable of walking away from a challenge.
“Why?” Dad asks his wife, his forehead creasing. “What’s wrong? What did Joel say?” Nia had just stepped out to answer a call from their turtle sitter, and has returned looking quite distraught.
“I asked him how Pierre is and he kept saying LL Cool J is fine.” She sounds flustered. “I told you we should have asked Chandra instead. That boy’s brain is jumbled from the ganja.”
“Jumbled from the ganja,” I howl into my coffee. “I love it. Title of my next book.”
Dad snickers. “Nice,” he tells me, before putting a reassuring arm around Nia. “Don’t worry. Joel’s not in some stoned stupor—well, he probably is, but not about this. LL Cool J was Pierre’s former name.”
“Oh. I see.” She relaxes.
“And trust me,” I add, “nobody will take better care of that turtle than Joel. He’s the turtle whisperer.”
Although they may need to spray the house down with air freshener when they get back to the Bay tomorrow, because I guarantee Joel smoked pot in there while he was housesitting.
Dad, Nia, and the girls flew to Boston over March break to visit me. Technically, I live in Hastings, the small town an hour from the city that houses the Briar University campus, but I drove into Boston to spend the weekend with my family. And Tate, who heard about the visit and insisted on tagging along.
He and I have seen each other twice since our Australia adventure. A weekend at the end of January, and another one during my February break, but Tate bemoans it’s not enough. He’s right. I miss him every second we’re not together, and I’m counting the days till graduation. I’ve already booked my flight to Avalon Bay. I’m going to stay with my family, but lately Tate’s been dropping hints that we should find a place together for the fall.
“Cassie! Look!”
I grin when I glimpse my sisters racing toward the booth. Both their hands are clasped around the stuffed turtle, which they’re holding up in a victory pose. Behind them, Tate struts over with a smug look.
“And you doubted me,” he accuses. He glances at my sisters. “Remember how she doubted me?”
Roxy nods sternly. “She did. I remember.”
“I remember too,” Mo says.
I roll my eyes at all of them. “Of course I doubted. That machine is rigged. Nobody ever wins.”
“Oh really?” Tate points at the turtle. “Does that look rigged? I don’t think so, ginger.”
“Don’t think so, ginger,” Roxy echoes, while Nia and Dad laugh into their coffees.
I glare at Tate. “You’re a bad influence on them.”
“Nah.”
“Nah,” Mo mimics.
I sigh and take the last bite of my lemon cake.
Tate sits beside me, slinging one sculpted arm around my shoulders. “I think you’re just jealous, babe. Want me to win something for you? There’s a lobster in there that’s almost the same shade of red as your face.”
“You’re so funny.” I glower at him, but he just winks. Besides, we both know I’m not actually mad. If anything, I’m so happy he’s here with me right now.
We’re happy.
Like, disgustingly happy.
The last thing I expected from my summer fling was to get a boyfriend out of the deal. All I wanted was passion. Fun. Maybe a little bit of romance.
But I got so much more than what I bargained for. I found true love with the greatest, funniest, sweetest man I’ve ever met in my life. A man who taught me how to express my feelings, even when they suck. And thanks to him, I got my dad back. I was finally able to free myself from my mother’s clutches and end a relationship that was hurting me. I made a genuine connection with my stepmother. Hell, I even got to see Australia—from the deck of a yacht piloted by the hottest captain on the planet.
“It’s cold!” Mo complains, burrowing closer to our dad. A group had just entered the restaurant, and since our table is near the door, a gust of cold March wind cools the air.
“Seriously,” Dad grumbles. “Isn’t it supposed to be spring? I don’t know how you survive living up here in the Arctic.”
I grin at him. “The northeast is not the Arctic. And I don’t mind the weather. Especially in winter. The snow is so pretty.”
“Winter sucks,” Roxy informs me.
“Totally sucks,” Tate agrees, before planting a kiss on my cheek. “Summer’s my favorite season.”
I meet his playful blue eyes. “Yeah? Why’s that?”
“You know. All those cute summer girls rolling into town…”
“All of them?” I accuse.
“Well, just one.” He finds my hand under the table. “And this summer is going to be even better than the last.”
I lace our fingers together. “I can’t wait.”