"But Logan will just tell my dad he couldn't find me."

"He's gonna find you, just on our terms. He needs to be the scapegoat, Everly Anne. Timothy is gonna know when I apply to Atlanta, and if he thinks that we're together he's gonna put the pieces together fast. He can't know until we're ready."

She slid her hands over mine. "Graduation is so far away."

"No it isn't," I promised, our fingers interlocked. "Summer will be here before you know it. We actually could use more time than we have."

"My point exactly," she said.

"You're not going to die before I graduate. Say it aloud. Make sure fate hears you."

She stared me in the eye. "I'm not going to die before you graduate." But the anxiety crept back into her features. "What if someone comes up here?"

"Marta has been the only one brave enough to try in almost ten years-and believe me she won't ever do it again."

Everly shook her head. "When did you come up with this?"

"I don't know I was sitting there eating my ziti and then light bulb?"

"Liar."

"I asked myself what would Jesus do?"

She laughed, but her eyes burned. "Even bigger lie."

I ran my hands across her hair. "I love you?"

"Fine don't tell me," she smiled. "And don't tell me that either, it's too short-lived."

"I love you? It couldn't possibly live any larger."

"But it becomes routine, which makes every I love you after the original I love you less powerful. Even people in crappy marriages probably tell it to each other. But do they still mean it, or are they just following protocol?"

I laughed. "An I love you protocol?"

"Does your Pop ever tell Marta he loves her?"

"I don't know . . . I guess."

"Think it's like when he loved your mom Julep?"

"Not even a fraction."

"So it's an I love you protocol," she concluded.

"Okay fine" I agreed. "No I love you's anymore. What would you prefer in its place?"

"I liked the numbers. It felt more inspired."

"Everly Anne," I slid my hands under her hair and turned her face up close to mine. "I love you no less than 358 ways. Please never allow anything to sway you from believing it's the absolute truth. Even if the sky does fall, even if we do turn to dust, I'll always be waiting for you."

Our mouths touched gently as if to test out our first kiss since Montauk, but as soon as I tasted her lips I committed myself to that invisible cord until it tied me so completely to her I no longer knew where she ended and I began. I never felt softness before her lips. Warmth and unyielding desire thumped inside my chest. My blood ran so conflicted-down deep and back to the surface. She was feather-light as she crawled into my lap-her arms wound around my shoulders and nervous fingers at the nape of my hair.

Then everything slow, slow, slowed.

The entire world outside of the attic sounded like it went missing. There were only our breaths. There were only soft presses and finger-soft promises on her cheek. Our lips drew like magnets. Eyes closed, I never once lost hold of her.

"But I'm wearing pajamas," she protested.

"It's just my family, Nick, and Tatum. They won't care. Everyone else has gone home."

We found the living room and claimed a seat on the couch together. Tatum was trying to find a radio station and Nick sipped a beer as he checked out the small of her back peeking out from her shirt. My father sat in a chair to our left, and only gave a smile as he glanced to us.