If It Makes You Happy(136)

I always hope readers will love my stories. It’s why I love writing them. But halfway through writing this book, I found myself thinking, If I’m the only person who loves Cliff and Michelle, I’ll be all right with that. That’s when I knew both: (a) This story officially had a piece of my soul that it would keep forever, and (b) I was in danger of being blissfully unaware of its flaws. Thankfully, I have some amazing friends, family, and editors who make sure that isn’t the case, and they deserve all the love I have (and more!).

Thank you to my fantastic agent, Kimberly, for being an absolute badass at what you do, making dreams come true, and having endless patience and support as I stumble through traditional publishing like the newborn baby deer that I am.

Thank you to the amazing team at Berkley who worked on bringing Copper Run to life again, and to my fantastic editor, Sarah, and Liz, for loving Cliff and Michelle as much as I do. Thank you for believing in all my silly ideas.

Shout-out to my wonderful indie editor, Jovana. I promise I removed the fifty thousand justs in this one. You are an angel.

To my dev editor, Becca. I trust you with my life and my books, which are basically the same thing. I love you.

Jenny B. You’re the glue holding my sanity together. Thanks for always listening to my panicked audio messages, for sharing in our mutual love of mac and cheese when we both need it, and for refocusing the wild hamster running on a wheel in my brain who is always attempting to juggle fifty off-the-wall ideas.

Dad. For inspiring every wonderful father I write.

Rusty. For loving nostalgia as much as I do.

Allie. For being the platonic love of my life.

Jillian. My sunshine.

Caroline. My vacation soulmate.

Jere. My inspiring, starry-eyed Capricorn.

Thank you to my OG beta team: Jenny, Allie, Angie, Carrie, Emily, Elizabeth, Erin, Rebeca, Caroline, and Kolin. Special shout-out to Danielle and Jenny Z., who double-checked the nineties accuracy!

To my reader group and all the lovely romance readers … thank you for your endless support and passion for reading.

And finally, as always, thank you to my husband—my nineties punk rocker at heart. Thank you for supporting all my “Yoda was a gnome” ideas. For listening when I randomly spout story ideas in the middle of watching Survivor. For watching endless nineties movies and documentaries while I was writing this. For keeping our lives afloat when I’m on a deadline. You’re the reason why I love writing friends-to-lovers. Thank you for being my forever best friend. I love you, I like you, and I love you.





ENJOY THIS EXCLUSIVE NEW YEAR’S EVE BONUS SCENE!





December 31,

1999





BRITTANY


The world is ending.

At least that’s what Emily tells me every night before I go to bed. She says it’s something about how computers won’t work. She says we’ll be in complete darkness. She says there’s some song by a band called R.E.M. that totally predicted this.

Dad groans about how she’s just scaring me, but when Shell and I went to the corner store for milk a few days ago, the entire aisle was empty. When we told Aunt Carol, she immediately called Dad to ask if we should go one town over to see if they have any left.

Dad laughed and so did Shell. Their laughing made me laugh too. Dad said milk would go bad if the fridge didn’t work. Shell ensured Aunt Carol that computers probably don’t work like that anyway. Carol still got in her car, and Dad’s best friend, Lars, said he’d go with her to get some milk, even though he was snickering as they drove off.

But now we’re one minute away from midnight, and I’m lying on my stomach on the bed in Shell’s room with my feet kicking in the air behind me, and I can’t help but feel some tension in my chest at the countdown on the TV.

“My mom got tons of bread and water,” Luke brags, swinging his feet off the bed.

All the adults in the living room are loud and Rocket didn’t like the noise, so I came to Shell’s room to watch the ball drop on the TV with him. Luke followed. For some reason, Dad said we had to leave the bedroom door open. I’m not sure why it matters but he said something like “We’re getting too old,” which sounds weird, but whatever.

“Did you guys get any water?” Luke asks.

I snort. “My dad says it’s dumb to be scared.”

Even Rocket huffs out a breath. I bet he agrees.

Luke doesn’t. “Well, maybe he’s dumb.”

“My dad isn’t dumb.”

“He is.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

I push his arm but it only makes him laugh. Luke always laughs when he can push my buttons. Emily keeps teasing that maybe he likes me but that doesn’t make sense. He wouldn’t irritate me if he liked me.

The hardwood creaks as someone walks down the hall. Luke and I exchange a look, then peek around the corner. It’s Aunt Carol, wringing her hands together with a sigh. She looks too worried to notice us, or maybe the house is too loud.

“See?” Luke whispers to me. “She knows the world is ending.”

“Shh,” I hiss at him.

Maybe Aunt Carol knows something none of us do.

The floors creak again and my dad’s best friend walks down the hall. Lars has that funny mustache of his that always wiggles when he smiles, and he’s grinning so big right now.