With one final nail in place, I step back and admire my creation. The greenhouse is almost completely finished, and it only took about nine hours of straight work in the freezing cold.

I’ve never felt so freaking accomplished as I pull my gloves off my hands and tuck them into the sleeve of my jacket for warmth. I was only going to put the roof on tonight as a surprise for Clarissa, but after that was finished, I decided to attach the green wall panels. Then, the door. Then frame out the window in the door. Then I just kept going. The frigid cold was only quelled by moving around, so I kept moving.

Now the greenhouse stands tall and proud, brand new and untarnished. I’m standing outside, my tools sitting on top of the table I made.

The official plans for the greenhouse have shelves going all around the inside walls, but there’s enough room for a table in the middle, something counter height so you can plant flowers or do work in there before you move it to its place against the wall. Clarissa had briefly mentioned how she’d like to have a table one day.

So I made one.

I exhale on my fingers in an attempt to warm them up, but it doesn’t do much. I glance at my watch. It’s just after midnight. First thing tomorrow morning when the stores are open, I’m going to find a gigantic bow, like what dealerships put on cars. I’ll put it on the front door and then let Clarissa discover it on her own.

My heart warms at the idea, even though it’s actually freezing.

Headlights blast against the greenhouse, the rumble of an engine following along behind it. I whip around, hoping it’s not a cop coming to bust me for being out too late, but it’s an older Chevy truck. I’ve seen it in Clarissa’s driveway.

My heart races and I don’t know why, but it feels like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. The truck shuts off and Clarissa tumbles out, walking quickly to me, her eyes wide.

“You finished it?” she shrieks. “Is it done? It looks done?” Her cheeks are pink, her expression bewildered. She looks so beautiful in the moonlight.

I laugh. “Yep. It’s done.”

“Why?” She throws her hands in the air, but she’s not mad. She smiles as she looks over the greenhouse, running her fingers across the outside wall. “I told you to wait until it wasn’t so cold.”

I shrug. “The weather channel lied. It’s totally not snowing.”

She turns to me, her smile lighting me upside like it’s Christmas morning. I realize why I did all this work tonight. For that smile. It was totally worth it.

“I made you a promise and I hated making you wait any longer to see it fulfilled.”

She walks closer to me, her gaze never leaving mine until she notices the table I’m standing next to. “What’s this?”

“It’s a table, you know for the middle of the greenhouse? I heard you say you wanted one, so I looked up some building plans online and got some extra wood.”

She places her palm on the tabletop. “It’s perfect,” she breathes, her words coming out in little clouds of white.

The next thing I know, she’s throwing her arms around me. Her cheek is cold against mine, her thick jacket so puffy, she feels like a cloud as I wrap my arms nervously around her.

“Thank you,” she says so softly I barely hear it. “Thank you for this.”

“Don’t thank me,” I say, still holding onto her, my eyes closed as I soak up her presence like it’s all the fuel I’ll never need to survive. “I should thank you for not killing me when you found out what I did.”

She pulls away slowly, then gazes up at me. “I read your letter.”

I don’t know what to say, so I glance down and then at the greenhouse, suddenly unable to meet her gaze.

“Thank you for writing it,” she says, taking a step back. “I ended things with TJ.”

“That was…probably for the best,” I say.

She snorts. “Yeah. Honestly, I didn’t even like him. I just—”

“You just what?” I say. It suddenly means a lot to me to know exactly how she felt about my former friend.

She shrugs. “I wanted to like him because he liked me. He didn’t have a problem with my height, and he was nice and—”

“Your height?” I ask.

She shrugs, one hand holding onto her elbow. “My last boyfriend broke up with me because I was too tall.”

“That’s bullshit,” I say, as anger warms my insides. What a dick. Who would throw away a girl as amazing as Clarissa just because she was a little taller than average? I walk closer to her, standing tall, until I’m just a few inches away and have to look down on her. I pat the top of her head. “You look pretty short to me.”

She grins and looks down. “I think I was just so happy to have connected with you, that when you hurt me, I tried to connect with someone else as soon as possible.” She exhales. “It did not work. It was stupid.”

“I’m really sorry for everything,” I say softly, wishing I could be wrapped in one of her hugs again. Instead, I settle for reaching out and letting my fingers graze her arm. “I had a connection with you, too. Before I ruined it all, you were very special to me.”

Clarissa’s jaw shivers as she looks up at me. “You’re too cold,” I say. “You should get back home and warm up. I don’t want you getting sick.”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Plus,” She holds up her finger. “Wait here, I brought something.”

She rushes back to her truck and then comes back with two cups from the Lone Star Diner. “It’s not as good as Mrs. Bradley’s homemade hot chocolate, but it’s still pretty good.”

Steam rises from the lid as she hands one to me.

“You just happened to have two hot chocolates in your truck?”

“It’s my grandpa’s truck,” she says, followed by, “And well, I thought you might be here after you didn’t answer my text.”

“You texted me?” My heart races at the thought. I’ve spent all night out here alone thinking she wasn’t thinking about me at all. “My phone has been in my truck so I wouldn’t break it around all these tools. What’d you say?”

“Nothing,” she says. “Just wanted to talk. When you didn’t answer, I came to find you.”

“What do you want to talk about?” I ask. I cradle the Styrofoam cup in my hands, letting the steam rise up and warm my face.

“Well…” She’s shivering so much she can barely talk.

“Hold that thought,” I say. I pull open my passenger door. “Get in.”

Then I climb into my side and crank the engine, turning up the heater. This truck has one hell of a heater, and within seconds, the cab starts warming up.

“Mmm,” she says, leaning her face toward the air vent. “This is much better. Grandpa’s heater sucks. I was halfway here before it started getting even a little warm.”

I try not to be so stupid-eyed as I watch her, but it’s hard because I’m totally crazy about this girl. “Not to be pushy, but you were about to say something.”

She smiles, her eyes closed while the hot air warms her face. “I’m sorry about the trouble you have at home, with your dad and everything. I had no idea.”

“No one does,” I say. “I keep that shit locked up tight.”

She looks over at me with sorrow in her eyes. “I’ve been thinking about what happened, and I don’t really blame you. If I were you, I think I would have lied too. I mean…we had this amazing date and—” She takes a breath and I am on the edge of my seat dying to hear what she’ll say next. “I mean, it’s not like you could have told me right there on the beach. I know I wouldn’t have. And…it’s not like you destroyed my greenhouse knowing it was mine.”

She turns a sharp look toward me. “I don’t condone senseless violence, though.”

I bark out a laugh. “Trust me, I don’t either. I can’t believe I did that. I’ve never done anything like that.”

She sips from her hot chocolate, and I watch her. Now that she’s here in my truck with me, all I can do is watch her, grateful for every second of time she gives me.

“My grandmother used to work at the daycare,” she says after a while. “That greenhouse was her passion project. We have lots of photos of her with the greenhouse, showing flowers and plants to the kids. She actually died a long time ago, so I never knew her, but when I started working at the daycare, Grandpa told me about it.”

A knot tightens in my stomach. Shit.

She glances at me briefly before looking back at the cup in her hands. “I asked Mrs. Bradley if I could fix the old greenhouse and make it new again so I could give the kids a greenhouse just like my grandma did. I spent all summer building it with my grandpa.”

“Shit, Clarissa,” I breathe. “I’m so sorry. I feel like such an ass.”

A small grin plays on her lips. “Then you won’t want to hear this next part.”

I stiffen. Her eyes are pained, her knuckles white as she grips her cup. “Grandpa has glaucoma and he’s been slowly going blind. That greenhouse is the last project he ever made, and it was our project that we did together. So…I know it belongs to the daycare, but it’s really my greenhouse. It means the world to me.”

I rub my fingers across my forehead. “God, I’m so sorry.”

Her fingers are warm when she touches my arm. “It’s okay, Gavin. You didn’t know.”

“I—” I look at her beautiful face, that soft knowing smile on her lips, the dip of her brows as she watches me. “I can never make this up to you,” I say.

She shakes her head. “You already did. It’s done. It’s finished. I didn’t tell you this to make you feel bad, I just wanted you to know the whole story.”

Her hand slides down to mine, her fingers effortlessly tucking between mine, as we hold onto each other in the space between us. “You told me your whole story in your letter, and I wanted you to know mine.”

I squeeze her hand. “My dad got his job back. His boss also talked him into attending AA meetings so…we’re cautiously optimistic.”

“That’s amazing,” she says, squeezing my hand. “My uncle goes to AA and it literally saved his life. He’s been sober for years now.”

“That’s good. Maybe this will help my dad. But now that he’s working, I don’t have to work as much at my job.”

“That’s why you insisted on finishing the greenhouse this weekend?” she asks.

I nod. She slides over, setting her cup in the cup holder underneath my radio. I do the same to mine, and the next thing I know, Clarissa is sitting right next to me, her leg touching mine, her hand still holding mine as she brings it to her lap.

“Do you think we could put this behind us?” she asks softly. Her head rests against my shoulder as we stare at the greenhouse in front of us.

“I would love that,” I say.

I let my cheek lean against the top of her head and we sit like this for a long while, the only sound is the heater and the soft rumble of the engine.

I close my eyes and enjoy the moment, feel the swell of happiness that’s growing inside of me. I don’t deserve this girl at all, but it looks like she’s giving me another chance. Life could not be any better than this.

“Hey, look,” Clarissa whispers.

I open my eyes. Tiny white drops of snow hit the windshield and then melt away. “It’s snowing,” she says, sitting up.

I turn to her. “Good thing the greenhouse is finished.”

She grins. “This feels special.”

“It feels like a moment,” I say, wondering if she remembers what we’d said that day at the beach.

“A good moment,” she says back, her eyes narrowing mischievously at me.

This time I don’t think too long or wait for a signal, because I don’t want the perfect moment to slip away. I cradle her cheek in my hand and lower my lips to hers. And then the greatest thing ever happens.

She kisses me back.