Page 227 of On the Breakaway

But that time is over. Last month, Grayson had sat by my side while I informed both of my parents in a joint call that I would no longer tolerate being a toy in their game. They both said okay, before immediately testing those boundaries in our next conversations.

After many hang-ups and arguments, my dad finally seemed to get it. My mom, on the other hand, I might just need more space from for a while.

Grayson notices my expression. “You okay?”

“It’s just strange,” I admit.

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

I scrunch my nose. “Why?”

“Because you’ve finally learned the difference between setting boundaries and building walls.”

My smile is wide because for years, I’d treated those things like they were the same. But he’s right; I’ve stopped doing that.

I catch myself being more honest about my feelings, instead of holding my insecurities hostage in my head. My mind travels back to our first honest conversation in the car after Wyatt’s party.

“Do you remember when I told you that your parents were the exception to the rule?”

“Of course.”

“I still think they are. This-” I motion back toward the picnic- “Your family. It is the exception. I don’t think many people get to experience this.”

He looks at me, confusion flickering behind his eyes.

I smile. “But maybe we can be an exception, too.”

“We already are.”

He kisses me, tongue gliding along my lips as he pulls me to him. My body seeks him out until I’m flush against him, my hands curving around his neck. The kiss deepens, and his hands slide from my hands to around my waist and up my back.

I don’t know how long the kiss lasts. I never do, but eventually, Mason screams through the trees.

“Uncle Gray. We need you to even the teams.”

Grayson pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. “He won’t stop yelling.”

“No,” I agree. “He won’t.”

He groans before turning back toward the house. He starts walking backward, still holding my hand, until our arms are stretched almost completely apart.

“You coming?”

I feel my phone vibrate once more in my pocket, and I spare it a single glance. It’s a glance at a life where love was something to be endured.

Then, I glance back at him, surrounded by laughter and burnt hamburgers. A life where love was something anyone would be lucky to have.

I step toward him. “Yeah, I am.”

Grayson’s Epilogue

Two Years Later

Absolutely not.” Avery’s voice is firm, but I smile anyway.

“You’ve done it before.”

She plants both hands on her hips, glaring at the row of white swan boats drifting lazily across the water.