Evie squeaks in shock and her jaw drops. “What? You two are spanking already? Why do you have to be such overachievers?”
“I’m about to overachieve in the arena of eating bowling alley popcorn,” Jess says, pushing her glasses up her nose. “I know it’s gross but I’m craving that toxic cheddar cheese dust they put on it. I’m going to eat two buckets and then smear my orange fingers all over a bowling alley hottie in a seduction attempt he won’t be able to resist.”
“There is no such thing as a bowling alley hottie,” Harlow says with a sniff. “Except the one I’m bringing with me. And Cam, of course. But I’m assuming you two would have done the deed by now if that were on the table.”
Jess makes a gagging sound. “No offense, Cam. But you’re like my brother.”
“None taken,” he assures her. “I feel the same way. And even if I didn’t, cheddar cheese dust is a dealbreaker for me. Just thinking about it makes my stomach turn inside out.”
“Cheddar cheese dust is the bomb,” Jess argues.
“Right,” Cam agrees. “The nuclear kind that lingers in your cells, raising your cancer risk for years to come.”
“You’re just afraid of fun,” Jess parries. “That’s your problem.”
They continue their playful bickering as we head out of the pizza parlor and down the street to the bowling alley. As we walk, a light snow begins to fall, and I take Harlow’s hand, pretty certain this is the best night of my life.
At least, so far.
* * *
But there are going to be more “bests” to come, a hunch that’s confirmed the next night and the next and topped off by an amazing Christmas Eve spent reading by the fire with Gram and Harlow.
We eat chocolate and listen to carols while Lauren’s kids run wild upstairs, too excited for Santa to go to sleep at a decent hour.
Later that night, I drift off in Harlow’s tiny childhood bed so happy I know I won’t be able to wait much longer.
* * *
I hold out through Christmas Day and a dynamite New Year’s Eve filled with fireworks and champagne on hotel rooftops and a midnight kiss from the sexiest woman at the party.
I keep my secret ring locked in my safe as I complete my move upstate and sublet my apartment for a year. I manage to leave it there through Harlow’s first visit to Syracuse, my first trip back to the city, and a Valentine’s Day weekend that’s so steamy and sweet I would have popped the question if I hadn’t deliberately left the ring at home to keep myself from jumping the gun.
Come the second week of March, just days before my ninety-day return policy expires, Harlow and I meet back at Shufflebottoms’ for one last ski trip before the spring thaw. We spend the day cross-country adventuring and return to the lodge for hot toddies by the fire in the afternoon.
Then, just as the sun is setting over the snowy hills, we take sandwiches from the café up to the roof and watch the colors fade from pink to purple to blue. And as the first stars are winking on in the night sky, I go down on one knee for real.
And Harlow cries.
And so do I.
And then she says yes, and we cry some more, but they’re happy, grateful tears. Because now we’re on the same team for real, forever, which sounds like just about long enough.
* * *