“Have you ever just told her how you feel?”
“I have a couple times. But it doesn’t really fix things, so I’ve kind of given up and accepted this is how things are. And she was probably right about me back there—maybe I do kind of take control and order everyone around.”
He seems disappointed in that answer. “For what it’s worth, I don’t agree. You do a lot. You’re always covering for everyone. Including me. All year you’ve saved my ass. You’ve basically run the council single-handedly. I’ve never actually thanked you.”
My breath hitches. Real Renner has never acknowledged the work I’ve done, let alone thanked me with genuine appreciation. “I don’t know what to say. I appreciate it,” I say, tepidly.
“Good.” He gives me a playful nudge.
I close my eyes, basking in the warmth of the setting sun against my face. I feel so at peace, which is a small miracle after what just happened in the gym. “How are you feeling? I know yesterday was rough.”
His body tenses. “It was hard. My mom was in a bad place. Didn’t get out of bed to spend time with my dad and me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs. “I tried to cheer her up, but nothing made a difference.”
I think about when he told me about his mom at Walnut Creek. “It’s not on you to make her happy again, Renner. That’s way too big of a burden. You can’t be the sun to all people without eventually burning out.”
I see him nod in my peripheral vision. “How about you? Have you spoken to your dad since the other day?”
“He wants to have brunch. Before prom.” I decided to call him before Nori picked me up. He seemed happy to hear from me. Strangely, he wasn’t distracted. He asked a couple pointed questions about Senior Week and who my prom date was. I had to confess I was going solo. Part of me suspects Mom briefed him on what was going on with me beforehand. Before I could bring up the lake house, he said he wanted to come to town and take me out for brunch. Just the two of us.
“How do you feel about that?”
“Scared? Nervous? It’s been so much easier not talking to him all these years. Because then I wouldn’t be disappointed. Now it feels so strained. Knowing he’s talking to me because he’s engaged and having a baby. But then the other part of me feels so guilty for not talking to him. Like, I want a relationship with my future sister—or brother,” I correct. “But it’s hard to imagine having one with him. Am I making any sense?”
“Yeah. You are. And you don’t need to feel guilty at all. He left you. He’s the one who missed out. And that’s on him to fix.”
“I guess.”
He stares ahead for a few breaths. “If you want . . . I can go with you?”
I squint in confusion. “Go with me? To meet my dad?”
“I mean, not like . . . to brunch. That would be awkward. Unless you wanted me to,” he adds, voice trembling in almost a nervous lilt. “But I could drive you and just wait outside?”
“Really? You’d do that?” I’m reminded of how willing Adult Renner was to accompany me to see Alexandra and the girls. How comforting his presence was when I was a bundle of nerves the entire drive there.
“Of course.”
I narrow my gaze in suspicion. “Why are you suddenly being nice to me?”
“I could ask you the same question. You haven’t bit my head off in twenty-four hours.” He pulls his phone out theatrically to confirm the time. As he slips his phone back, his leg brushes against mine.
I want to tell him the real reason. But I don’t. Because I don’t want to ruin whatever this is. “Do you ever wonder what things would have been like if . . .” I let my words drift, head heavy with familiarity. Because we’ve had this conversation before.
“All the time,” he says simply, like he knew what I was going to say.
“I guess it’s too late now,” is all I can think to say. Senior Week is almost over. And then all of this will be over. We’ll be off on our separate paths. Life as we know it is going to change forever.
“Is it too late?” he asks simply.
I look over, eyes meeting his. I study his gorgeous eyes, the dense line of his lashes. His breath ghosts my cheek and I close my eyes, reveling in this feeling. My body buzzes with warmth and brightness that could rival the now blood-orange sky.
The moment hangs between us, stretching, threatening to snap as his nose grazes the tip of mine. His breathing is ragged, hollow, mixing with my own. And then he kisses me.