Page 46 of Wish For Me

I shove thoughts of teaching and billionaire heiresses aside and lean back in my seat, going to the happy place I gave up on avoiding while I was in zero gravity.

Noelle. Noelle smiling. Noelle laughing. Noelle diving behind me in the parking lot of the Rolling Hills when a crow flew in our path.

Noelle giving me her beautiful smile while I hold her in my arms and tell her all the things I was thinking when I was in space.

I just pray she wants me too.

CHAPTER12

Leif

Connie slaps Grandpa on the wrist for trying to test out a cookie—“It’s too early for sugar, John!”

I drop my cereal bowl in the dishwasher. “She’s right, Grandpa. Or at least learn to be stealth about it.”

Grandpa rubs his hand. “What happened to taking my side?”

I pull on my scarf. “Sorry Grandpa, I’ll always side with the cookie maker.”

“At least Floof still loves me,” Grandpa says.

She gives us the side-eye from her bed in the corner.

Connie’s dog has slowed down since I last saw her. Last night, when Connie was out of earshot, Grandpa whispered that he wasn’t sure how much longer they’d have with her. Then he’d rubbed his chest, and I wondered, with an ache in my heart, if Connie thought the same thing about him. He looks so much frailer than he did the last time I saw him, and he’s had some scares in the past couple of years that have Connie talking about bringing in a nurse.

I kneel down to give Floof a stroke behind the ears. “Be good to Grandpa while I’m gone.”

“Where are you off to so early, anyway?” Grandpa asks as I stand up again, pulling on the coat I’d slung on the back of the kitchen chair before inhaling some cereal.

“Thought I’d get ahead of my Christmas shopping.”

“Is there a special someone you’re thinking of?” Connie asks, brushing her hands on her apron and winking.

I smile back. “Just you, Connie.”

She giggles.

Grandpa puts his hands at his hips. “You just want cookies.”

I grin. But just then the sound of the front door opening echoes through the foyer.

My stomach clenches. “I thought you said Dad wasn’t in until next week?”

Grandpa and Connie exchange a look. But it’s not Dad who strides into the kitchen a moment later.

“Enzo!” Connie exclaims.

I relax. That is, until Enzo heads straight for me, squeezing the shit out of me while pounding me on the back. “Thanks for not blowing up up there,” he says.

“Enzo!” Connie exclaims for the second time, her tone scolding this time. “Don’t say things like that!”

I laugh. “You’re welcome.” I’ve always loved how Enzo never minces words. His dad Eli’s like that too.

Enzo pulls away. He’s let his curly brown hair grow kind of shaggy, but his big grin—also inherited from his dad—is still the same. I’ve seen women literally swoon because of it. The difference between Enzo and Uncle Eli is that Enzo milks it.

Enzo squeezes my shoulders. “Shit man, you got big.”

Connie rolls her eyes at the curse word, giving up on reigning Enzo in. “Cookies?” she asks, holding out a plate.

---