I reached for my wallet. "My heart was a little locked up in high school, Topolina."

Her face fell. "Are you scared of being in love?"

"In it? No. There's nothing scary about loving someone."

"What about losing them?" she asked, keeping her eyes on mine.

"That wasn't the question."

Everly busied herself by finishing off her milkshakes. While I waited for Lynne to drop off our bill, she said, "I liked what your friend Nick called me in Montauk."

"What did he say?"

"He called me "Callum's girl" and then Tatum chimed in and repeated it as if it were true. It wasn't the title, but . . . the assumption. Like that's what we looked like together."

I searched her face. "You have a bad habit of sending me all the wrong signals, Everly Anne."

She pushed her empty glass aside and folded her hands near mine. "I told you it's possible to want something and still be fearful."

I slid my hands over hers until our fingers interlocked.

"It would be okay," I admitted.

"What would be okay?"

"People assuming you're my girl. It would be okay with me."

"That's all?" She frowned. "Just okay?"

"Maybe I need a ride with Merriam Webster before we have this talk."

"I'd say so, Callum Andrew."

Lynne tried to drop off our check, but Everly stopped her. "I'm sorry, we'll need two separate bills, please. I am very clearly not his girlfriend, even if he's okay with someone assuming we're a perfect match."

I shook my head as I stared at her grin. "I thought you were my Breakfast Wife? I thought we were celebrating consummation via bacon?"

"Now, now, Doctor," she said. "You're confusing yourself with God again."

"Everly Anne."

"Callum Andrew."

"I adore you no less than sixty different ways."

After we climbed into my dad's Chevy, I leaned over to kiss her, but she put her fingers on my mouth to stop me.

"Don't. Please."

"Why not? Are you still angry at me about the God argument? I'm sorry." I kissed her hand. "Please let me kiss you. You don't know how much I've thought about kissing you since Montauk, Everly Anne."

"It's not the argument," she said quietly.

My nerves bundled. I sat back into my seat. "Do you not feel the same, anymore, Everly Anne?"

She was quiet. I started the car.

"It hurts," she whispered, looking out the passenger window. "Not seeing you hurts."

"I know." I touched her hair. "But I don't know what to do, Topolina. My father thinks I should slay Timothy, and Tatum thinks I should bake him fuckin' cookies and kiss his ass or something."

She looked at me. "What do you think?"

I shrugged with a groan. "I think this is fucked up. That's what I think, Everly Anne. I adore you, I'd never purposely hurt you, and yet somehow I'm still wrong. How do I work with that? What do I do to get your father to let go of you?"

"He won't," she said. "And trying is only going to get you hurt. Even more hurt. I'm so sorry, Callum Andrew. I knew better."