Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Me
Is that your way of saying eat my yogurt faster or don’t yell when you do it for me?
Ezra
You’re pretty!
SIX MONTHS LATER
Grandma Blue swept back into the apartment like she’d never left—except she had an Italian scarf around her neck, a tan, and a look that screamed you two better have been productive while I was gone.
She sniffed the air, zeroed in on Ezra, and narrowed her eyes. “Hmph. Still smells like sexual deviant. At least you’re consistent.”
“Welcome home,” Ezra said dryly, flipping a pancake onto a plate. “Would you like breakfast before or after you lecture us?”
“Both.” She plopped down at the table, then peered over her glasses at me. “So. Where’s my great-grandchild?”
I choked on my orange juice. “Grandma!”
Ezra thumped me on the back, smirking. “You’re not even subtle about it.”
“Don’t need to be.” She dabbed her lips with a napkin. “The world’s been watching you two argue, kiss, argue again, and post increasingly questionable cooking livestreams. You think I flew all the way back from Florence just to eat pancakes? I expect results.”
“Results?” Ezra repeated. “What is this, a group project?”
Grandma smirked. “Exactly. And I’m the supervisor.”
Ezra sighed, slid an arm around my waist, and kissed my temple—smug, soft, completely him. “We’ll get there,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “Right now, we’re still figuring out the practice stage.”
Grandma clapped. “Practice makes perfect. Don’t keep me waiting.”
Ezra groaned, I buried my face in his shoulder, and the comments section of our latest livestream exploded with #GrandmaBlueForPresident.
Some things never change.
And some things? Finally, beautifully, did.
EPILOGUE 2
Ezra
Just googled “how to start a community blowfish.” Apparently illegal. Also apparently fatal.
Harper
I’m calling the cops.
Ezra
Joke’s on you, I’m too hot for jail.
Harper
You cried last week because you got a paper cut from your rock collection binder.
Ezra
It was igneous. Sharp edges. Practically a weapon.
Harper
…I hate you.
Ezra
No you don’t. You love me. Also, I ordered us matching stegosaurus pajamas.
Harper
Divorce.
Ezra
Not legal until Grandma Blue signs the papers.
Harper
…Fine. Bring the pajamas.
Grandma Blue
Just landed in Florence. Wifi is trash. Espresso is perfect.
Ezra
Glad you made it safe, Grandma.
Grandma Blue
Don’t call me Grandma on text, makes me sound old. Call me Blue. Like Beyoncé.
Harper
…You’re literally my grandmother.
Grandma Blue
Semantics.
Ezra
Harper cried watching me confess live. She’s keeping me.
Harper
OMG stop.
Grandma Blue
Finally. About time one of you grew a pair. Ezra, don’t screw it up. Harper, hydrate. And both of you—make me a great-grandbaby before I’m back.
Harper
…
Ezra
…
Harper
Delete this.
Ezra
Already screenshot it. Printing it on a T-shirt.
Grandma Blue
Good boy.
Hey, you. Yeah, you—the one who just finished our story.
Thanks for rooting for us.
Now do me a favor: don’t call me “the one that got away.”
Call me the one that stayed.
—Ezra