Page 105 of Striking Range

So what am I to do? Giving Evie up is not an option. There has to be something else that can be done, and I’m overwhelmed trying to figure out what that something else might be.

I will have to debate this thoroughly another time, though, as I spot Everett leaning against the entrance to Angie’s.

He looks amazing—dressed simply enough that he doesn’t look out of place but still put together in his blue jeans and his long-sleeve button-up. His blond hair is tousled, and it must be an intentional choice since there’s no wind today.

Everett is watching his Converse tap against the concrete, his hands fiddling with the ends of his shirt. Is he… nervous? Surely not.

We have frequented this diner together more times than I can count in the past four years. Our booth is engraved with a million memories—all of the staff knows us. But this is our first date, and if I’m honest, I’m a bit nervous myself.

How do I act? Is it fine for us to continue on just being Sky and Evie, and not something new in the presence of our romantic developments?

I guess I’ll find out today.

Everett’s head lifts as I approach, his eyes lighting up at the sight of me. His body language shifts into something more relaxed, the stress lines on his skin smoothing.

I think I’ve already found my answer: things are as they always have been, and how they always should be. It’s just us. Together.

“Good morning,” I greet, stepping in front of him.

Everett smirks. “It’s noon.”

“Yes, well, one of us has been up since seven, and I’m pretty sure it’s not you.”

“Keep dogging on me,” he starts, reaching out to run a hand through my hair, “and I’ll be forced to remind you of how you cried once puberty hit.”

Fucking asshole. The only downside to dating your childhood best friend? They know everything about you.

Or, in my case, mostly everything.

“Do that, and I’ll tell everybody that you measured your dick every other day our freshman year of high school,” I shoot back.

Everett only grins harder, taking my hand in his as he drags us inside the diner and toward our booth.

I figured it might feel at least a little weird to be so openly together for the first time, but it truly doesn’t. My claim on Evie predates our shift toward romance, so it feels no different now to declare it in this new light.

Everett is mine, just as he always has been.

“Boys,” Jenny coos, approaching our booth. “You want your usual?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Everett replies smoothly.

“How are things? How is school?” Her eyes dart between us expectantly.

“It’s good,” I tell her. “We had a few finals this morning, and I’m pretty confident about them.”

“Me too.”

“That’s great!” Jenny shouts. “I’ll get ya a milkshake, on the house. You need to celebrate!”

She scurries away, scribbling on her notepad and sliding the paper through the window to the cook.

“She’s like a doting grandma,” Evie observes, smiling after her fondly.

“She’s known us for a long time,” I add.

Everett turns his attention to me, and in his eyes and his soft smile, I can see every version of ourselves that has existed together.

Here at this booth, running down the dock to jump into the ocean waves, sitting on my bed as we studied. We have lived this same day a million times, over and over again, side by side.