I tell Jack everything. I want him to have enough details to judge the situation on his own. I start out confessing that I was wrapped up in him, that I drank too much because my encounter with him made me question everything, that I’d even been thinking about calling him, and how much that had scared me. I wasn’t trying to guilt-trip him or blame him, I just needed him to know where my head had been at to get me into the situation with Nolan that night in the first place. And as I explain everything leading up to how I ended up in the alley, a pain I didn’t even know I’d been holding onto starts to ease. I start to forgive myself as I begin to realize that no matter how I ended up in that room with Nolan, and the feeling I couldn’t escape, what he did was his fault, not mine.

I can’t look at Jack as I speak, too afraid of what I might see. Finally, I get to the next morning and the disaster that was the swim meet. And then I tell him what happened at my first meet of the season this year, a secret I had kept from him even when he asked me about the meet on the phone later that day.

“I’m scared I ruined my shot at going pro now. And when I think about that, and how fucking sad it makes me, I know that’s what I want. It’s like I had it in my hands and it got ripped away, and now I know how much I really wanted to keep it. I’m such a fucking mess,” I add, as if it even needs to be said.

I’m tempted to keep rambling when Jack doesn’t respond after several long seconds. When I hear him take a ragged breath, I finally glance into his eyes and find them wet.

“Fireball,” he croaks. “This is all my fault. Why didn’t you say anything? If Nolan hadn’t shown up again in your life, you wouldn’t be having these panic attacks. God, I’m such an idiot. I should have noticed your reaction to that little shit back at StageFest. I’m so sorry.” He repeats the sentiment over and over until I finally put my finger to his lips and pull him to me so his head rests on my chest. My hand runs through his hair, and a calmness I haven’t felt in a very long time settles in my bones.

When I realize I’m the one comforting him, a light giggle escapes my lips. Jack raises his head. “You’re laughing,” he says in wonder.

“It’s just,” I say on a sigh. “I was so terrified to tell you. I thought you’d be disgusted with me. But instead you think it’s your fault somehow. I think I might be in love with you, Jack Kingston.” The words come out so easily, so playfully, neither one of us appreciates the weight of my confession for a few seconds.

When it sinks in for Jack, his mouth is on mine, his hands in my hair. An overwhelming desperation to have him completely and immediately takes over, and I reach for him, touching him over his jeans.

He stills, and the absence of his tongue in my mouth has me whimpering pathetically. “Please don’t stop,” I breathe out.

“I’ve been thinking about taking you in this minivan since you put that visual in my head on the high dive.”

Despite how the rest of that night went, it seems some good came from the conversation we shared. I love that he’s been carrying that visual around for over a year.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

“We’re in the parking lot of my elementary school. Now, my sister’s elementary school.”

“So?” I question, my lips brushing his. “Everyone’s watching football and eating turkey. Just try not to rock the van too hard. We don’t want to be obvious.”

We pull back up in front of Jack’s house not long after, each in our own vehicles. He pulls me in for another kiss before we walk through the front door. Heather will probably have her guesses as to what we’ve been up to, but I don’t really care at the moment. I’m too happy to be fazed in the least. Although as we step up onto the front porch, I remember the look of disgust in Jack’s eyes in this spot, and I stiffen.

Jack senses it and stops, turning to me, holding my hand. “What’s wrong?”

No longer wanting to hold anything back from him, I tell him the truth. “You looked so disgusted with me when you were talking about Nolan and that night. I mean, I get it,” I start to justify it but this time he puts a finger on my lips.

“Whatever you think you get, stop. I wasn’t disgusted with you when I thought you’d wanted to hook up with Nolan and hang out with him after he played at the Happy Hollow. If I looked that way, you read it wrong. If there’s anything that made me look that way, it was the way Nolan talked about you when he told me. And the way I treated you the first time we hooked up at your place. I treated you the way Nolan talked about you, and I hated myself for it. I still do.”

“Don’t hate yourself, Jack,” I say immediately, knowing how it feels to blame yourself for things you shouldn’t. “We had seriously hot chemistry and I didn’t want more. Or didn’t think I did. You were just trying to give me what I thought I wanted, okay? What matters is that we’re together now, and there’s nothing between us.”

“Hmm… there’s touring. I definitely need a break from that as soon as this one’s over.”

“It’s like you said in L.A. We’ll figure it out, okay?”

The front door opens and Gracie stands there, wearing a pink eight-year-old-sized apron with ruffles on the bottom over a lime green leotard. She waves a turkey baster at us. “Stop making out and start cooking!” she exclaims with a huff, hands on hips.

“How do you know what making out is?” Jack asks with suspicion.

She shrugs. “It’s what Mom told me to tell you.”

Jack and I exchange amused and slightly-guilty smiles. Guess Heather knows exactly what we’ve been up to after all.

“Come on, let’s have our first holiday together,” he says, pulling me forward by our grasped hands.

I’m still not certain what the future holds for my relationship with Jack, but I know that we both want the same thing, and that’s enough for me. It’s the same with my future after college. I don’t know what will happen, but at least I now know what I want. And even though it scares me to want something and not know if I’ll get it, I’m learning to embrace it. Figuring out that it’s okay to go for something and risk not getting it. It’s not necessarily failure if you don’t get it, because it’s better than not trying at all. Sometimes being brave is just going after what you want, and until now, I couldn’t even admit to myself what I wanted. Baby steps.