Page 143 of The Comeback Summer

“The whole time I was gone...” he says eventually. His voice is low, right next to my ear, a quiet hum that makes my heart ache with longing. “I thought about you. About us. Hannah, can you look at me?”

I shake my head, my eyes still shut. My chin wobbles and I hope he doesn’t notice.

He sighs, and his breath tickles my cheek. “I’ve been trying to figure this out. Going around in circles, looking at it fromevery angle. But it’s hard—I can’t ask you to choose me, as much as I want to. And I can’t choose you, either.”

My heart stops; this is it. We’re over. I swallow, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “I understand—”

“That’s why I’m choosing us.”

I look up sharply, but the barb tugs my hair again, making me wince. My eyes blur with tears. I blink to clear them, needing to see Josh’s face. Needing to understand what he’s saying.

His face comes into focus: dirt streaking his skin, hair wet with water and sweat. Lips curving in the softest, warmest smile.

“I realized,” he says, “that I’ve been thinking of this as a choice between what’s best for you and what’s best for me, like we’re on opposite ends of a tug-of-war. But I made that mistake before, and I refuse to do it again. I want to be on the same side. I want to choose us, over and over again, for the rest of our lives.”

“But—but what does that mean for your career? For mine? Where will we end up?”

“I don’t know yet. But we can figure it out together. Because this, right here”—he motions between us—“is themostimportant relationship of my life. There’s nowhere I’d rather be than down in the mud with you, trying to figure out a way forward.”

My eyes fill with tears again. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be, either.

“I love you, Hannah Freedman,” he says. “Please love me back.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, incredulous joy. As if I could doanything else. “Josh. I’ve loved you since we were thirteen years old. You’re as much a part of me as my own heart.”

His face breaks into a smile and he leans in to kiss me. It starts as a chaste peck, but even that brief touch sparks a hunger inside me. My hair is still tethered to the wire, so I reach a hand up to cup his jaw, pull him closer and deeper until our tongues meet.

“You taste like dirt,” I whisper.

He chuckles against my mouth. “So do you.”

“And I just got mud on your face,” I say, motioning. “Sorry about that.”

He swipes some mud in his hand and dabs it on my nose. “There. We’re even.”

We stay there grinning at each other on our hands and knees until I speak.

“So... I’m still stuck.” I motion above me, and the movement makes my scalp tug again.

“Can I try one last time?” he asks.

I nod, and he flips over so he’s on his back next to me. He’s patient and careful, untangling my hair strand by strand, as gently as he can.

“Most of it is out,” he says after a while, “but there’s some I can’t get. Want me to see if the official has scissors?”

“No.” I close my eyes and quickly bring my hand up to my scalp, holding my hair tight as I yank my head away from the barb. The spot on my scalp burns like a hot poker again, but I’m free.

“Badass,” Josh says, sounding impressed. “Shit, that scratch on your neck is wicked. Sure you’re okay?”

I turn to see the remains of my hair still left on the barb; more than I thought. “Yeah. Help me slip out of my shirt?”

He does; it’s awkward, backing up in the mud as Josh lifts my shirt over my shoulders and reminds me to keep my head down so I don’t get my hair stuck again, but soon I’m free, collapsing into the mud with nothing but my sports bra and shorts on.

We crawl forward under the wires until we reach the end, then stagger to our feet. My body is stiff and sore from being in one position for so long, but it feels amazing to be upright again. When I glance over at Josh, he’s looking at me with a goofy grin on his face.

“What?” I say, touching my hair self-consciously. I’m sure I’m a mess.

“I just really, really love you.”

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