I’ve never felt so out of place surrounded by so many familiar faces.

I should be the belle of the ball, working the room of the fundraiser I started, but I don’t feel like talking to anyone. They aren’t all bad people—on the contrary—everyone in attendance has generously donated a large amount of money to be here. I’m just annoyed at what a night like this represents. Being at a fundraiser like this is something I used to enjoy. Something I used to look forward to. Picking out a fabulous gown and getting my hair and makeup done with Mama and Maddie was one of those silly pleasures I actually looked forward to.

But that was then, and this is now.

Tonight, I’m bored and annoyed. When I started brainstorming this event a few years ago, I wanted something small, but Mama insisted I had to go big in order to bring out the power players. She even set me up with Ariana Rogers—event planner to the stars. The silent auction boasts prizes like private-jet excursions and a weekend in St. Bart’s. The meal is a seven-course dinner from a Michelin-star chef Daddy knows, who flies in from New York City.

I’m excited that the event draws such a great crowd, but I can’t help think about how much money we’d be able to give if I didn’t have to waste so much to get the people with money to be here? I’m torn between appreciation—which I absolutely have—to the sick feeling that many of the people are here tonight for the laughing and dancing and drinking, and barely register the reason they’re here—the families who benefit from their generosity who are struggling. Is it just a donation tax credit for them? Or another philanthropic cause they can brag about at the country club while drinking “chaahh-mps” (the annoying nickname some people use for champagne)?

I hope not.

Speaking of chaahh-mps, I grab my fourth glass of bubbly from the teetering serving tray that passes me. If I can’t beat them, might as well join them.

“Do you really need another?” The sultry voice of my favorite singer rings out from behind me. I spin and come face to face with Austin.

The sight of him makes me gasp. Not just because I’m surprised that he’s right here in front of me when he’s supposed to be in DC for a show tomorrow, but also because he looks absolutely magnificent.

He stands tall, confident, and absolutely flawless in a tuxedo, perfectly fitted to his muscular frame. His hair is gelled; luscious pink lips are surrounded by a freshly trimmed ten o’clock shadow. He looks impeccable—like he wears a penguin suit every day.

Austin takes the flute from my hand and brings it to his mouth, tipping it back and draining it in one slug. Champagne wets his lips which makes me want to sweep my tongue over them to taste him one last time.

I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s always handsome. But I’ve never seen this side—dashingly dressed to the nines. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all. He looks as laid-back as he does in a white T-shirt and leather pants.

What I wouldn’t give to see him in leather pants again. To drop to my knees and slide those pants down his thighs.

“What are you thinking about, Miss Honey?” he asks, jolting me out of the lewd fantasy.

My eyes must have dropped, because he lifts my chin with his fingers, tilting my face up so our gazes meet.

“You don’t want to know.” I shake my head and turn away as I feel the heat rise from my core to my cheeks.

He takes a step closer, places his hands on my hips, and dips his head to my ear. “I do, but there’s one thing I want to know more than what you were just thinking about.”

“What’s that?” I ask tentatively. My heart revs in my chest. I feel like it will carry me away if I’m not careful. I feel unprepared, even though I planned on leaving first thing in the morning to meet up with him in DC to let him know how much I need him.

“I want to know if you love me. If you ever loved me.”

“I—” The words stick in my throat.

My heart pounds against my chest. Austin is here, standing right in front of me, asking me if I ever loved him. I’m saddened that my ignorance and insecurity caused him to have any doubt.

Of course I love you! You’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I want to scream, but I hold back. I’m trying to suppress the overwhelming urge to throw myself against his chest and wrap my arms around him. I love this man with every piece of my soul, but I hold back because I can’t understand how he’d want to be with me after I accused him of taking money from my father.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“I just told you why I’m here.” He sets the empty glass on another passing tray. The servers don’t have faces, hidden by ornate purple, green, and gold Mardi Gras masks which follow the theme of the party. Each one mocking my misery as they stroll by, fake with plastic smiles, jovial as Bourbon Street on Fat Tuesday.

“This benefit has been sold out for months. How in the world did you get in?”

“I was invited. Emily said your band canceled, and I couldn’t let you use a shitty DJ you found last minute for such an important event.” He looks over his shoulder toward the stage where Emily is talking to the DJ Ariana found last-minute. Behind them there’s a flurry of activity as Jimmy from Austin’s band sets up equipment. “Lucky for you, I happened to be free tonight.”

“Austin, you should be in—?” I’m totally confused at what’s happening right now.

“Right here with you is the most important place for me to be. We need to get the bullshit misunderstanding out of the way before we can move on.” Austin grabs my hand. “You were right, my mom did take money from your father, but it wasn’t to get me to break up with you; it was for a bunch of shit that happened years ago.”

“Yeah, I—” I close my eyes and shake my head, ready to explain.

But Austin keeps talking, “Not saying your family isn’t shady as fuck, because your mom actually did ask your dad to pay us off, but that’s not what we took money for.”

“I know. Maddie told me.” I reach up to brush my hand through my hair, but stop when I remember it’s being held back by an antique silver comb.

“Did you really believe that I could be swayed into breaking up with you over some cash?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight. I wasn’t feeling like the best version of myself at that point, and I didn’t know what to believe, Austin.”

“I get that. You come from a family who thinks they can control people with threats and bribes, so it makes sense.”

I nod. Because it’s true and it usually works. Most of the people my father bribes can’t resist the money. The rich get richer and the poor—well, the poor get a desperately needed windfall.

“My family doesn’t work that way. My mom isn’t desperate enough for money to be that shitty of a person. But she will accept compensation for an idea that she and my father should have been compensated for years ago.”

His words slice through me like a double-edged sword. An insult to my family, capped with the insinuation that I think his mom is a horrible person.

“I know, Austin. I know my family plays in a totally different league.”

Out of the side of my eye, I notice that we’ve gathered an audience. Curious eyes watch with intent interest. The elevator-style dinner music blends with the laughter and chatter in the room, but in our vicinity the noise has decreased dramatically.

My parents are around here somewhere, shmoozing with someone. I’m sure they’ve seen the crowd gather and they’ll be at my side at any moment. They’ll be pissed when they realize that Austin and I are talking about this in public, causing a scene at an event attended by so many of their friends. There’s a reason Harris Commons does all of his business behind closed doors.

“When you left me I was shocked. Heartbroken. Pissed. So completely pissed. I couldn’t believe you would just walk away, out of the blue, with no warning. It was a complete slap in the face.

“Then I talked to my mom and she explained what happened. And right away the flip in my brain switched from anger to confusion. Did you break up with me because you thought giving me up would be better for me?”

I bite back tears as I nod. I hate coming across as such an insecure idiot, but that’s the way I portrayed myself, so I have to face the consequences.

“I think you did that because you love me. You thought your sacrifice was worth the pain.” He pauses. I open my mouth to respond, but he continues before I can utter a sound. “And that’s a fucked-up way of thinking.”

Stunned into silence, I lift my eyes to his.

“You grew up in this life where money can buy anything. Homes. Cars. Feelings. People. I can’t blame you for how you were raised. I can’t blame you for being confused by the tug of war between your family and your heart. But damn!” He closes his eyes as if in pain. Which makes me want to cry. “It pisses me off that you thought I might be lured by money. Not everyone can be bought. You don’t have to sacrifice your own happiness to offset your family’s fucked-up politics.”

“You’re right, I should have talked to you instead of giving up. I was tired and angry and absolutely embarrassed. Why would you even want to be involved with me—with us?” I say, conflicted because even though I know my family can be shady, I still love them. Mama and Daddy aren’t horrible people, but they won’t hesitate to use their power or money to influence a situation. They think they’re doing it for a greater good. Too bad the greater good is their own personal interests.

“Why? Because I love you. And I see you for who you are, not as the family that you came from.”

“We’re intertwined. I’m part of them.”

“Well, sure, but you have free will. And I’m pretty sure you would never bribe someone to get your way.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t put up a fight. I wish I would have handled it differently. I wish I would have talked to you instead of assuming I knew the best thing for you.”

“I wish you would have, too, because one of the things I love about you—about us—is that we can talk about anything—even things that are uncomfortable. Nothing is off-limits. My fucked-up brain is completely open and free around you, Liz. And we need to keep that communication and trust going.”

I swallow hard and nod.

“Fuck all of these complications—the miscommunications, the insecurities, the obstacles that we keep creating because we’re scared. Because all of this is actually very simple. No one—nothing—will stop me from loving you.”

I stumble backward, suddenly unsteady in my heels. He grabs my waist and I raise my face to his, my gaze locked in his just like that first night we met.

“When I’m looking in your eyes, everything else goes away. All I see is you and me. That’s all we’ll ever need. We can handle anything as long as we remember it’s just us. Right here. Right now. Forever.”

I nod. Which causes a few tears that had been building up to spill onto my cheeks. “So you forgive me?”

“Of course I do. We all jump to conclusions. We all make mistakes. I’ve made more than my share. But I need to know if you’re all in, Miss Honey. ’Cuz I need you. I need you so much my heart aches when you’re not around.”

“I’m in,” I say firmly with complete sincerity.

“Do you love me?”

“I absolutely love you.”

“Will you dance with me?” Austin offers me his hand.

“I will always dance with you.” I slip into his arms without hesitation and he wraps me in his embrace. His facial hair tickles my cheek as I rest my head on his shoulder and nestle into the crook of his neck. Inhaling the spicy scent of the beard oil I bought him floods me with warmth. He smells like home—or my new mindset of what I want home to be.

“Elizabeth,” Daddy says sternly from behind me.

“I’m dancing, Daddy. I’ll talk to you later,” I say. Then I close my eyes and relax in Austin’s arms. I refuse to let my family interfere with us anymore. This is the first step on a long road of change.

We sway together silently for two songs. Emotions flood every cell of my brain. I almost lost it all. My career. My love. Myself.

“This is everything,” I murmur, unsure if Austin can even hear me. “This is all I’ll ever need.”

“You’ll have this for as long as you want it. But let’s talk about the immediate future.”

I try to lift my head, but he takes one hand off my hip and presses it back down. He strokes my hair as we sway. I smile against his shoulder.

“I know you’re confused and hurt. I know it sucks to have to start over. But no matter what program you choose, you’ll have some time to kill until the new one starts, right?”

“Yes.”

A lump forms in my throat. The discussions I had with Austin led me to the program I chose. After speaking with Dr. Crowder and a few trusted coresidents about what I really want to do with my medical career—and where I would fit best—I decided to apply for the family-medicine residency. With that, I can move forward with my personal goals as a physician.

“I think you should use the free time for an epic adventure,” he says.

The power and confidence in Austin’s voice brings me back. He tethers me to reality.

In the months before I met him, my head was a mess—swirling with confusion and hurt. What I truly wanted from my career got buried under a mountain of expectations I was too ashamed and insecure to confront. Instead of having a conversation with my parents, I allowed the perceived disappointment and failure to weigh me down. I’d been so buried by guilt, that I would never be what they expected of me, that I couldn’t see my injury as a blessing in disguise. Until Austin.

“What kind of epic adventure?” I ask.

“Come on tour with me and be our merch girl.”

“You want me to come on tour with you?” I ask. This time I lift my head and look at him with wide eyes.

“Absolutely. I don’t want to live without you, babe. I want you next to me every fucking time I wake up.”

“And I want you fucking me every time you wake up.” I pinch his waist teasingly.

“Every time?” His smile widens.

“Within reason.”

“Deal,” he says and presses his lips onto mine.

I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. When the songs ends, he says, “I should probably get up there, eh? This music blows.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know. I want to do it. I will be here for you whenever you need me, in any way that I can be. When one of us is down, we help the other rise up.”

“Thank you.” We intertwine our fingers and shuffle through the crowd, making our way toward the stage.

“Do you mind if I take this jacket off?” Austin holds his coat open like he’s got a superman logo underneath and looks down with a frown.

I grab the jacket, slide it down his arms, and fold it over my forearm. Then I remove his bow tie and undo three buttons on his crisp, white shirt so his neck and chest tattoos are clearly visible. I stop to take in his appearance and decide it’s not quite right. Reaching out, I un-cuff each sleeve and roll them up three quarters. Biting my lip, I inspect him one final time.

“Now you’re ready,” I say.

“I’m not gonna lie. You undressing me in public is fucking hot.”

I wink before walking up the two stairs to the stage. Taking the mic in my hand, I greet the crowd. “Good evening, everyone. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m Liz Commons, the founder of the For When It Rains Foundation. Thank you all for being here to help us raise money to assist local families with catastrophic medical-care bills. Over the last three years, your generosity has helped almost one hundred families in the Charlotte area.” I pause, smiling graciously as I allow the crowd to applaud the impact of their donations. “There’s an old saying, ‘when it rains, it pours.’ That’s where I came up with the name for the foundation. We could all use a little help when it rains, right? When it feels like nothing will ever go right and there’s no light in sight. It started sprinkling on me a few days ago when the band we had lined up to play tonight had to cancel due to illness. Thankfully, a beautiful friend stepped up to help me out. Please welcome Austin Williams, the talented singer of Drowned World, the love of my life, and the person I can always count on to keep me afloat.”

Austin’s head snaps up, obviously surprised that I introduced him that way. He’s beaming as he crosses the stage. I start to move away from the microphone to let him take over, but he grabs my hand and pulls me into his arms like we’re ballroom dancers. Then he wraps an arm around my back and dips me, planting his lips on mine as the blood rushes to my head. I’m dizzy and exhilarated—and alive!

And for the first time, I truly don’t care what anyone in this crowd thinks about it—or him. I’ve found my happily-ever-after with my soulmate, and I’m ready to embark on all the adventures life will bring.