The drive back to Dylan’s house is awkward. He’s quiet, and I don’t know what the hell to say to break the ice. Finally, as we pull into his driveway, I can’t stand the silence anymore.

“Why didn’t you tell me the whole story about your family?”

Instead of answering me, Dylan turns off the engine, and we step out of the car and walk inside his house.

“Dylan.” I touch his back. “Are you okay?”

He takes my hand and leads me up the stairs to his bedroom. We sit down on the bed, and Dylan turns to stare out his massive windows at the beautiful view. Finally, he looks over at me.

“I guess I was ashamed. Like you were. Except you never lied to me.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know that. But it’s true. You’re more courageous than I am, Jasalie. You don’t need your parents to back you up. You do that all on your own. And me while you’re at it. Whether it’s a reporter, a paparazzo, or my family. I don’t know how you do it.”

“I never had the backup. It’s not the same thing. What you had to deal with back there…” I hesitate and then go for honest. “It sucks, Dylan. They’re assholes.” I correct myself. “I’m sorry. Not assholes. Jealous. That’s what they are.”

He frowns. “Jealous?”

“Like green-eyed monster jealous.”

“You think?” he asks me.

“Of course. Honey, why else would they treat you that way? They can’t stand what you have because they wish they could have it, too. I mean do you support them out of your salary, or does your father make enough money to afford that Mercedes?”

He doesn’t answer me.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong to support them,” I say quickly, feeling like my words are coming out all wrong. “I’m just saying they’re wrong to attack you.”

Dylan nods slowly and looks away from me to the window.

When he turns back, his piercing dark eyes are filled with pain. “Did this scare you off?”

“Dylan, of course not. I care so much for you. Even more than I did. I admire you for making so much of yourself. I always did. I just didn’t know you did it in spite of your family.”

When he kisses me, I take his face in my hands and try to put all the love I feel for him into it. He reaches for my shirt, and we strip off our clothes and shut out the world until everything feels safe again.

“So,” Dylan says a while later as I snuggle my naked body against his in bed. “You want to go for a walk on the beach?”

I tilt my head. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.” He jumps out of bed, away from my gaze, and starts to get dressed. “I want to take you down to the beach. It’s where I run.”

“Away from your pain?” The words slip out without my meaning them to.

He glances at me briefly but doesn’t stop buttoning his shirt. I watch him, realizing how little I’d known about him before we came to L.A.

“Are you glad we came here?” I ask him.

He nods. “Of course. It’s been harder than I thought it would be to come back to reality. I almost felt like we were the only two people in the world out in Tucson. You know?”

“But your entire team was there.”

“That doesn’t matter. When I’m on the field or in the game room, that’s also a suspension of reality. Especially when you’re winning.”

I stand up and touch his cheek. “Let’s go for a walk.”

I’ve been to the beaches in California hundreds of times in my life but never to the one where Dylan takes me. I tend to avoid Malibu because the biggest memory I have of my mother was at a Malibu beach. I don’t know why we were there, but I remember the sand, the ocean, and her long hair in my face as she carried me into the water. I cried when we had to leave.

When I tell Dylan, he takes a seat on the sand and gestures me to join him. “Do you remember her bringing you to social services?”

“No.” I stop blinking as I stare at the waves crashing onto the shore, and then I look out further at the surfers trying to stay on their feet. “I don’t. It sounds weird, but all I remember is her perfume and Malibu. My therapist thought I probably blocked out a lot of my childhood memories. She says that’s normal when there’s been a trauma.”

We lie back on the sand with our hands entwined, and I close my eyes and allow myself to dream.

And I hear myself say, “You want to stay here tonight?”

Dylan doesn’t flinch although I’m pretty sure he had to work at it. “Sure.”

“Because of your parents’ visit,” I say quickly.

“Right.”

“So.” I start talking very fast. “At your house?”

“Yeah. We can drive by my other place tonight, since we’ll have time now, and I can show you where I actually live.”

“And I want to stop by and see Bessie and Balaster again.”

“Why don’t you bring them with us for the night?”

“Dylan, they’ll get fur everywhere. And your place is so nice—I don’t want them to ruin it.”

“I don’t care. God, I bought the house to live in it. Let’s actually make it look lived in. It’s just been sitting there like a freaking monument.”

I squeeze his hand.

We pull off at Palisades Park in Santa Monica on our way to dinner. It’s a beautiful evening, and I lean on the fence by the overlook and stare down at the ocean below. I love the smell of sage that’s so strong this time of year. I love the rose bushes lining the walkway. No one is nearby, and except for a lone woman seeking a quick picture with Dylan, nobody approaches us at all. His arms are around me, my head’s on his shoulder, and right about now, life feels more perfect than it ever has.

“Look.” Dylan’s turned his head to the right.

I glance over and see a bride and groom as well as plenty of photographers.

“Lots of people get married down here by the water. It’s where I was going to have my wedding when I was engaged.”

I try to suck that last part back in, but it’s too late.

Dylan tenses behind me.

“You—” He pauses for breath. “You were engaged?”

I sigh. “It was no big deal.”

“Marriage was no big deal?” His voice is low and strained.

He takes a seat on an empty bench a few feet away, and I reluctantly join him.

“Of course marriage is a big deal,” I say quickly. “That’s not what I meant. I just didn’t care for Joel is all.”

“Well, why’d you get engaged to him then?”

Dylan’s possessive tone would annoy me if it were coming from any other man, but from him? I enjoy the low growl in his voice as he asks me the question. I bite back a smile at the way he’s glaring at me but pretending not to be. And I put my hand in his and tell him the raw truth.

“Because I was so lonely.” My eyes fill with tears without my meaning to. “I missed having a family. I always kind of feel that emptiness, and I probably always will. And of course, it’s no excuse for getting into a bad relationship. But I don’t know—Joel asked me to marry him after a couple months of dating, and I jumped.” It was the longest I’d ever been with someone. It was also one of the worst jokes I’ve ever played on myself. Because I didn’t love him, not even a little. “Looking back, I can’t believe I ever convinced myself to say yes. I really can’t. I sure as hell didn’t love him. Or him me.”

Dylan squeezes my hand. “I’m sorry you were lonely.”

“Me too.” I look into his dark eyes focused on me, and I know he’s still feeling vulnerable. “It wasn’t something big. There was no ring—not that that matters obviously—but we had no love or commitment is what I mean. We were drunk, we had sex, and he said, ‘so you wanna get hitched?’”

I sigh. I can still remember the moment. Joel said the words exactly like that as if we were going to take the car in for an oil change or something.

Dylan exhales. “Okay. I get it now.”

“I meant it when I said I was never in love. Promise.”

He nods. “I believe you. I understand loneliness, too.

I break into a laugh. “Despite all the obvious ‘run now’ signs, I had my wedding dress picked out.”

“Can I see it?”

“I never bought it.”

I did put down a fifty percent deposit, but I got the lady to refund me half the money. So I was only out some of my savings, and I worked extra that week to earn it back. “I returned it to a little bridal shop here in Santa Monica.”

“Well, we’re right in town. Let’s go to the store and you can show me the dress.”

I drop my chin onto his shoulder. “Are you nuts? We’re not engaged! And I don’t even know if I’d still like the dress.”

I’m lying about that part, though. I know I’d still love the dress. It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever tried on. And it fit me. The saleswoman said it was very rare to try on a wedding dress and have it fit flawlessly, just like that. But this one did.

“The darn thing fit me. You know?” I say to Dylan. “And I don’t get that. I know Joel didn’t fit with me. So why the dress? Seemed like a cruel joke from God or something.”

“Right dress, wrong guy?” He stands up. “Let’s go see it.”

I’m scared to bring Dylan into Twin Sisters Bridal Shop. He and I have known each other for just over a week, and now we’re going wedding dress shopping?

I march into the shop, hardly holding the door for him behind me. As soon as we get inside, I walk straight to the rack where I remembered the dress was and point the gown out to him quickly.

“See, there it is. Pretty, huh?” I turn to leave before the saleswoman approaches.

“You want to try it on for me?” he asks.

I glance at his face, but he’s not revealing much. His expression is neutral, and if it weren’t for the way his piercing dark eyes are pinning me in place, I wouldn’t know he had any emotion at all about this whole weird shopping trip.

“You know we fly back to Tucson tomorrow right?” I say.

“Yes.”

“And you know our ‘thing’ together, whatever you want to call it, is scheduled to end the next day.”

“Yes.”

I sigh. “You’re crazy. You know that?”

“I’ve been told that before. My high school coach told me I was crazy to dream of playing football for a living, in fact.” He grins at me. “Guess he was wrong, huh?”

I glare at him as he calls out to the saleswoman.

This moment is quickly getting away from me, and I’m still not sure how. I used to be so good at standing my ground and staying hardened.

“You’re making me feel weak,” I say to Dylan.

“In the knees?” He kisses me.

“In the will.”

“I feel ridiculous,” I say from the changing room. “This is so stupid, Dylan.”

“Do you have it on?”

I can tell that he’s right next to the curtain. If I reached out, I could probably pull him inside the changing room with me. That could be fun.

I refocus as I take a look in the mirror. I always loved vintage, and this dress fits the bill perfectly. The beading on the neckline is dainty and subtle, and the ivory and champagne color blend is gorgeous. It’s a romantic antique-style gown with lace trim, long illusion sleeves, and a deep V-neckline. It has a princess feel to it—but not Disney, more like Princess Grace. It doesn’t feel boho but 1940s vintage, which is exactly what I wanted. And the satin lining is so comfortable; I could actually imagine wearing this dress for an entire day and not wanting to tear it off my body.

So. It’s still a beautiful dress. The difference now is a beautiful guy is standing about two feet away from me, and he says he loves me. Which makes this wedding gown feel a whole lot different and a whole lot scarier.

My one relief is that the saleswoman isn’t the same one who waited on me last time.

I step out from the changing room and right into Dylan’s arms. He hugs me back.

“This is nice,” he says into my hair. “But I can’t see the dress very well.”

“I know.” I pull away from him and walk up onto the platform with all the mirrors staring at me from every direction. “Well, here it is.”

Dylan stares at me for an uncomfortably long time without speaking. The silence grows so extended that I start to walk off the platform and back into the dressing room where I can hide my face.

This was a stupid idea, but I already knew that. He’s the one who insisted on coming here.

“Jasalie, wait.” Dylan catches me by the wrist and walks back up onto the platform with me. He turns us toward the front mirror.

I stare at the reflection of the two of us, him on my right, slightly behind me. He’s got on jeans and a sweater, and I’m wearing a formal gown, but it doesn’t change the picture—we look perfect together.

“What do you think?” he says in my ear.

I swallow hard and look down. “Don’t know.”

“I do,” he says, still in my ear. “You look beautiful. You were right. This is the perfect dress for you.”

I raise my head, and our eyes lock in the mirror.

“You look beautiful, too,” I say in a soft voice.

His lips part like he’s about to say something else. But then his expression changes, and he turns me to face him so he can put his mouth over mine. His tongue is everywhere, and I fist his wool sweater in my hands and pull him against me.

We’re still kissing when the saleswoman comes around the corner. “Oh, what a perfect fit! Never seen anything like it.”

I break away from Dylan.

“When’s the big day?”

Flustered, I nearly topple off the platform. But Dylan grabs me around the waist and holds me steady.

“We don’t have a date set yet,” he says calmly. “We’re just in the beginning stages.”

“How exciting,” the woman says. “And to have the dress chosen so early on! That’s one of the biggest stresses out of the way.”

“That is a relief,” Dylan agrees.

“Where did you two meet?” She doesn’t seem to have a clue who he is.

“Arizona,” Dylan says. “In the desert.”

I’ve lost the power of speech and nearly of air.

“So romantic,” the saleswoman says. “Congratulations. You make quite the couple.”

My air has returned, and with it my ability to move. I smile at her and turn quickly to walk down the steps and into the dressing room where I don’t look at myself again until I have the dress off and my old jeans and sweater back on my body. That dress is too elegant for somebody like me. I don’t know whatever possessed me to try it on in the first place.