I bite my lip and he continues, glancing back at the paper. “Step five, complete new-student orientation. Step six, register and pay for classes. Step seven, collect class essentials and a campus ID card and parking permit. Step eight.” He pauses, pressing his lips together before looking at me. “Step eight. Go to class.”
I gnaw on my lip.
Elijah leans his head back and gazes at the cloudy sky. I’m standing on edge, wondering if my bold move will pay off or land me in hot water. “You made me have a meeting with the dean.”
I nod meekly. “How did it go?”
A few terrifying heartbeats later, Elijah’s lips quirk into a grin. “It was … educating. Did Sasha tell you to do this?”
I shake my head, taking a step closer. “Not exactly. But I know it’s what she wanted for you.
I also know she’d never have given up on you. So I’m not, either.”
He chuckles softly, staring at the papers in his hand. “I have no idea how to do this.”
“I’ll help you,” I say, reaching for his other hand. His eyes peer into mine, a mirror image of my best friend’s, but these are all Elijah. “Dean Marshall will point you in the right direction and the Cades will pay for it. You’re not going to fall through the cracks, Elijah.”
He blinks quickly, then brushes the hair from my eyes. “Thank you.”
I touch the silver chain around his neck, then peer up at him. A ray of sun breaks through the clouds and warms my face. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for since I woke up in the Cades’ library that fateful morning. I can feel her all by myself, without her help. I know she’s here.
I smile and press a key with a foam keychain into his palm. “Ready for the fun part of this adventure?”
Recognition flashes across his face as he holds up the key. “You rented another boat?”
I shake my head. “I got permission to hang out on Sue’s Paradise. Since Sasha’s not bankrolling our fun adventures anymore, I had to be frugal to set up something romantic.”
Elijah’s thumb slides across my cheek. “Let’s go.”
Mr. Cade wrote up boating instructions for us, and Elijah has no problems driving out of the marina and into the middle of the lake. We drop the anchor once we’re in a secluded area away from other boaters, and I unpack the picnic-style dinner I prepared for us. There are sandwiches, chips and some of Mrs. Cade’s homemade cherry pie.
“You know, Sasha really lucked out that you’re so cute,” I say, poking him playfully in the arm. It’s nearly nine o’clock and we’ve been talking for hours. Making plans for the future. Making plans for us.
Elijah stands next to me on the balcony that overlooks the back of the boat. “Why’s that?”
I shrug. “If you were butt ugly, her plan to set us up wouldn’t have worked.” I snap my fingers together. “The whole thing would have fallen apart.”
He chuckles, his breath warm on my cheek. “You mean my outstanding personality wouldn’t have been enough to win you over?”
I gaze up at him, his eyes bright from the moonlight. “Afraid not,” I say, holding back a smirk. I suck in air through my teeth. “I’m kind of super shallow.”
His eyes narrow, a feisty look crossing his face. In one quick movement, he pulls me away from the railing, turning me around. His arms slide around mine, holding me safe and warm. Closing my eyes, I sink against his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat and the gentle swish of the lake lull me into a peace I haven’t felt in ages.
Chills flutter across my neck when he leans in close, his lips grazing my skin. He smells like Mrs. Cade’s cherry pie. “I love you, Raquel Clearwater,” he whispers into my ear.
My hand laced into his, I bring my hand up and kiss his knuckles. “I love you, too.”
Epilogue
Five years later
It seems like only yesterday that I sat in this stadium, sandwiched between Sasha’s parents and mine, cheering my head off when Elijah walked across the stage, graduating with a bachelor’s degree in social work.
Now all the same people are in the stands, gathered here to see me walk across this terrifying stage. My toes curl up in my black flats. I ditched my heels in Elijah’s jeep, planning to change into them when we go to dinner after graduation. The thought of tripping over my own feet and falling on my face in front of the dean and several hundred parents is enough to make me question any type of shoe choice. To make matters worse, walking across the stage today is only the first of two more graduations it’ll take for me to be a veterinarian.
Taking a deep breath, I glance around at my peers, a sea of burgundy gowns with gold collars. There’s an excited buzz in the air, and I twist my engagement ring around my finger, letting the familiar curves calm my nerves.
When it’s time for our row to walk up to the front, I’m so freaking nervous my face feels like it’s going to melt off. And here I’d thought getting a degree in biology was hard. Standing on a stage in front of so many people is much worse.