Page 96 of Hot Girl Summer

He shifts onto one leg, and pulls a plectrum—theplectrum—out of his back pocket. “Going to need my lucky pick for this one.”

My stomach flips, a knee-jerk reaction to those dimples that will never get old, even when we are. Deft fingers move effortlessly across the strings. The melody is so incredibly beautiful, that I don’t even care for the name of this song, or the fact that I suck at this game. I just want to hear him play. As soon as he sings the first line, I recognise it instantly.

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? from Johnny and Baby’s blissful post-coital scene in Dirty Dancing.

Danny’s version is stripped back, slowed down and mellow, and like the last kiss that graced my lips, the song is completely full of raw, unfiltered emotion. A tear falls freely as my perception heightens, consuming every tiny detail of our perfect moment. The final note hangs in the air, and Danny gently lays the guitar beside him.

“Thank you,” I say.

Danny shrugs. “I had a load of spare time when I was being an asshole. I spent every day learning songs that reminded me of you.”

“You weren’t an asshole. You were hurting.”

My heart aches for the time we lost to pride.

“Regardless, I had a lot of grovelling to do. How else was I going to get you back? Other than food...which brings me to my next trick.”

He reaches for the picnic basket, lays it between us, and opens the lid. Inside is a small-scale version of the Italian celebration cakes reminiscent of my childhood. Frosted sides are studded with crushed almonds, and a handwritten message is scrawled across the top of white icing.

Tomorrow, it says.

“Tomorrow?” I ask.

He nods. “I want this…us. Tomorrow, the next day, and the next…and every day after that.” He holds my hand. “Look, I know forever is a scary word, but today was incredible. I want more of those, if you do? No more running, no more fighting, no more hiding. Taking each day as it comes and living in the moment. That’s what I want.”

He squeezes my hand to his chest. “You’re the Yoko to my John, the Cady to my Aaron...the Buffy to my Spike.”

I can’t help but smile.

“I can work anywhere in the world, and once you’re qualified, you can too. I want to experience everything with you like it’s new, and I want to give you everything you want. We can be nomads together, what do you say?”

I pause for a moment to consider his proposal. “You know, I always thought I had to dress a certain way, or act a certain way to belong, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever fit in with your lifestyle. But that’s okay, I’ve made peace with it.”

The warmth in his honey-green gaze is pure kindness and love.

“Danny, you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel comfortable in my own skin, and all I want is to be where you are. Tomorrow, and always.”

He plants another soft, sweet kiss on my lips, and glances at his watch.

“Think we have time for one more song?”

I nod, and recognise the intro to Oasis’ Wonderwall instantly, and as we sing and sway under stars and moonlight, I’m happy, I’m safe, I’m home.

Epilogue

OneYearLater

“Drumroll please.”

Danny enters the attic room in the beach house the moment I finish filming a segment for my YouTube channel. After our beach date, we dedicated our free time to turning the unused upstairs bedroom into a yoga studio. Lush green plants and sea views provide the perfect backdrop for filming, and my audience of one—the Dalmatian teddy —is always the perfect cheerleader.

“Well? Don’t leave me hanging. How much did we raise?” I ask, sweat dripping from my forehead.

“Twenty-six thousand.”

“Are you serious? That’s twelve grand more than last year.” I leap into his arms, elated, and he spins me around. “I need to call my parents. Kiki will be so happy.”

I retrieve my phone from beside the Dalmatian and video call my parents. On the third ring, my mum answers.

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