Page 115 of Make Her Mine

I take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. Nothing that happened with Zach was my fault. I’ve always known that. But I’d kept it from my parents because I didn’t want them to worry. I never should have doubted how they’d respond.

I give my mom a smile and tease her, so she knows I’m okay. “Yeah, yeah, none of you are surprised that Jefferson and I got together. Whatever.”

“Yeah, when he was that in love with you that long ago, I knew it was only a matter of time.” My mom sits back in her chair and smiles as my dad rejoins the group.

“Okay, now you’re being dramatic,” I say. I reach over and take Jefferson's hand, squeezing. “We are in love now. For real. But this hasn’t been ever since high school or anything.”

My mom looks at me as if I just said something ridiculous. “Of course it has been.”

“Maybe you thought he had a crush,” I tell her. “But he’s just a good guy.”

“For fuck’s sake, Harlow, it wasn’t a crush,” Jefferson says.

I look up at him and he’s looking at me with a mix of affection and heat and a touch of exasperation that I’m pretty sure is just always going to be there.

“I suppose we’re going to argue for the rest of our lives about you being smart enough to realize how great we’d be together first?”

He shrugs. “Well, obviously.”

“But you actually had a crush on him first,” my mom says.

I look over at her quickly. “What? No, I didn’t.”

“When you were nine, I distinctly remember you and Margot and Mia and Graham playing wedding. You were the bride and Graham was the groom, but you made Graham go by the name Jefferson.”

I’m staring at her. Not because I don’t remember that—it’s all flooding back to me now as a matter of fact—but because she’s talking about this in front of Jefferson.

But of course she is.

“That was only because Graham and I were best friends, and that was weird,” I say. “He just needed a different name.”

My mom nods. “That makes total sense,” she says. “Obviously he couldn’t have a name like Tom or Wyatt or any other name at all. Jefferson was really the only option.”

“Now it’s time for us to go,” I say to Jefferson, standing.

He chuckles. “I don’t know. I’m really enjoying the conversation now.”

“It’s really time to go,” I insist, tugging on his hand.

“Also of note, she always wanted to get married in the gazebo in the center of town during the festival,” my mom says.

I gasp. “Not always.”

“Well, as a little girl that’s what you would pretend when you played wedding.”

“Very interesting conversation,” Jefferson repeats.

“Jefferson,” I say calmly.

“Yes, Harlow?”

“If you ever want to stand in the gazebo with me ever again for any reason, you will get up and take me home right now.”

He immediately gets to his feet, but he and everyone else laughs the entire time we walk to the car.

CHAPTER 25

JEFFERSON

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