Page 158 of Everything's Coming Up Rosie

We stare at each other for a few more seconds, a cord of electricity pinning us in place. Finally, I rush toward him, throw my arms around him in a tight hug, the kind of hug I’ve been missing and dreaming of for weeks. “What are you doing here?”

He pulls back and looks at me, and I can see in his face that he’s missed me as much as I’ve missed him.

“I couldn’t miss this, Rosie,” he says. “It was too important.”

“But we’re not supposed to— Oh, who cares?” I go up on my tiptoes and kiss him. I can’t help it. Within seconds, we’re right back where we were on my last night in Door County. Lost in each other, like we’re the only two people in the world.

I pull away, breathless, our foreheads pressed together. “I’ve missed you.”

He kisses my forehead, holding me close. “Yeah. I’ve missed you too.”

I reach up and touch his face, relishing the way his skin feels under my fingers. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

He turns and kisses the palm of my hand.

“It’s going to be so, so hard to say goodbye again.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” He takes a step back, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his wallet. He opens it and produces a small white card. “It took some time, and a few conversations with Bertie, but”—he hands me the card—“You’re looking at the new physical therapist for the Chicago Comets.”

“Wait. What?” I take the card and stare at it. “For the Chicago...”

“Yep.”

“Does that mean you’re moving... ?”

“Yep.”

There, in bold black letters, is Booker’s name next to the logo for Chicago’s professional hockey team. Underneath it, the wordsPhysical Therapist.

He shrugs. “You inspired me.”

“I did?” I ask. “To go after your big dream?”

“Yeah, but also... to get a new dream.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“It’s you, Rosie,” he says. “You’re the new dream.”

And there’s that swoop in my stomach again.

I grin. “I’ve never been anyone’s dream before.”

“You’re about to get weird, aren’t you?” He grins back.

“Probably.” I stare at him for a few long seconds, still trying to process the fact that this isn’t the end. “Why didn’t you tell me you were thinking about this?”

“In case it didn’t work out,” he says. “I started looking a couple weeks before you left, but I didn’t want to make any promises.”

“Before I left?” I ask.

“After I recorded your audition,” he says. “I knew you’d get the part.” Then, after a beat, he adds, “It’s okay, right?”

“Are you kidding?” I laugh. “It’s so much more than okay.”

His smile almost looks relieved, and I have to wonder if he is unclear how deep my feelings for him really are. If so, I need to change that.

Because I have big feelings for Booker Hayes.

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