“Okay, fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You know I can’t say no to that golden boy charm.”
He leans down to kiss me, picking me up and wrapping me in his arms. As his lips meet mine, I can’t deny it:
I love Jonathan Wright.
36
Jonathan
“Yes!” Kiara dances in a circle as the last striped ball falls cleanly into a pocket.
She blows on the top of her pool cue like it’s on fire and then walks around the table to stand next to me.
“Your butt’s mine, golden boy.” She grins and bumps her hip against mine. She bends over the table to hit the 8-ball and I hold my breath.
Clack.
The 8-ball narrowly misses the corner pocket.
Kiara glares at it.
“What was it you were saying about my butt, Garcia?” I ask with a sweet smile as I line up the cue to hit my last solid ball. I wait a moment, the perfect build-up of anticipation, before hitting the six ball into the pocket directly in front of her.
She rolls her eyes, leaning forward on the table. The game is heating up. The table is entirely cleared and only the 8-ball is left.
I chalk the end of my cue. The 8-ball is sitting against the far rail. The angle will be difficult, but not impossible.
“Scared, golden boy?”
I snort. “Of you?”
I bend over the table and take a deep breath.
I tap the ball with the end of the cue.
The cue ball clacks against the 8-ball, which rolls pathetically to a stop.
Kiara’s turn. With a confident smirk, she grabs her pool cue and sits on the edge of the table, arranging the cue behind her back. Very smooth.
She lines up the final shot, and I smile looking at her concentrated expression. No matter what Kiara is doing, her face tells the whole story. I wish I could get a photo of her now.
It’s the middle of July and the days at the Inn are filled with magic. There’s another garden party tonight, and Kiara and I are dressed accordingly. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail and she’s wearing one of her colorful dresses. She looks beautiful, as usual.
Without appearing to put an ounce of effort in, Kiara knocks the 8-ball into the pocket, winning the game. She does a little dance around the table.
I pretend to break my cue stick over my knee before putting it away.
She laughs and circles her arms around my neck. “Someone owes me a secret.”
On our breaks and when guests aren’t around, we’ve started playing pool in the games room. Kiara thought it’d be fun to raise the stakes and have the loser share a secret.
I have no complaints. I’ve learned that Kiara broke her arm while trying to walk in her mom’s heels as a kid and not when she was skateboarding. I’ve learned that she loves mac and cheese because it’s the only thing her father made when she was young. And I’ve learned that Sebastian, her cat at home, is the love of her life, and that no matter what I say or do, I will be a distant second. At best.
Kiara is constantly surprising me. I had no idea what to expect when I suggested we play a game of pool a month ago, but Kiara has proven herself to be a quick learner. She went from spilling all of her secrets to asking for mine in a few weeks.
I came prepared today. I have a secret that I’m excited to share with her.
“Okay.” I’m lost in her eyes, as usual. “So, I’ve been thinking a lot lately...”
Her eyes change from blissfully curious to suddenly serious. Does she know what I’m about to say?
I exhale quickly, finally getting the words out. “I want to go to photography school.”
Kiara laughs, a light and melodic sound. “That’s an awesome idea!”
“Yeah,” I say, feeling shy. “I’ve been thinking about it and I want to pursue photography as a career. It’s because of you. You make it all seem possible.”
The words rush out, and as I speak the truth, I feel lighter. I can finally see the world clearly and I know my path. Kiara and I sway back and forth to a silent tune, a melody we both dance to.
“I’m so happy to hear that,” Kiara says, her excitement clear on her face. “You were meant to do photography.”
“You think so?”
“You do have the beanie for it.”
“The hat makes the artist,” I say, laughing. Kiara always tells me the truth. If she doubted my ability, she'd say so.
“My grandpa was the only one who supported me doing photography. He was such a happy, optimistic guy.” I glance at my camera, sitting on the edge of the pool table. “He’s the one who got me the camera.”
“He must’ve been a wonderful person.”
“The best,” I say. “That’s why I skipped the game last fall to take photos. He always made me feel that I shouldn’t be ashamed of what I want. I wish you could’ve met him.”
Our swaying slows as Kiara stands on her tip-toes to give me a kiss. The air around us feels magnetic and I never want to let her go. Realization strikes—
I love her.
I’ve wanted to tell her for days now, but I’ve never been sure about the moment.
A commotion by the door causes us to jump apart. Anaya flings the door to the games room wide open, dragging Wes inside by the hand. “Okay, you two lovebirds, let’s get moving. Other people want to play.”
Without an ounce of concern for interrupting a tender moment, Anaya shoos us towards the porch.
Kiara and I break down in laughter, and I give Wes a fist-bump as we leave the games room.
The interruption was for the best; I don’t want to scare her off by telling her too early.
37
Kiara
Wes and Anaya have taken over the games room. I’ve noticed how cute they’ve been lately and I’m happy to give them the space. As Jonathan and I step onto the porch, he pokes me in the side and then bolts into the garden.
“I have one more thing to tell you!” He shouts over his shoulder as he runs. “But you have to catch me first!”
I dash after him down the stairs, my head still spinning with excitement from his confession. Jonathan Wright wants to go to photography school. Jonathan. Wright.
It’s been a month and a half since we arrived at the Inn and I’m shocked by how much things have changed. The weeks have gone by in a blur and I’ve enjoyed work more than I could have imagined. At the end of the day, we have dinners together and then spend the evenings or afternoons exploring the grounds around the Inn.
Jonathan has this unbelievable ability to make any task fun. If I was a black and white still from the 50s, he’d be a colorful, wild image from the 70s. I never could have imagined how much fun living could be.
With him, it all comes so easily. Whether we’re relaxing in the hammocks or climbing to the Legacy summit for sunrise, Jonathan and I are attached at the hip.
We did a very poor job hiding it from the other staffers, as Nath so loudly demonstrated one morning not long ago.
“Ki, I told you! Love and hate, two sides of the same coin,” Nath said. I remembered one of the first things she said to me when I arrived at the Inn — that she didn’t like her husband initially.
I blushed and scurried from the room, dragging a confused Jonathan with me.
What I’ve enjoyed most is sharing my passion for photography. When Jonathan arrived, I expected him to be terrible. I believed he didn’t care about his position and that this whole summer was a big joke to him.
But he took it seriously. He’s a fast learner, and I know he’ll do great at photography school.
Even better?
My photos are improving, too. Enjoying the moments is helping me capture them.
I run as fast as I can and almost catch Jonathan.
He darts into the empty gazebo.
I fly around the corner, wrap my arms around his waist, and almost drag him to the ground. “You owe me a secret.”
“A secret? Or is it more of a question? Hmm.”
“A secret
question? I’m intrigued.”
He unwraps me from his waist and holds my hands tenderly. For a brief moment, he looks everywhere but my eyes, but then his gaze settles on me.
“You are, without a doubt, one of the most intelligent, inspiring, beautiful people I’ve ever known. You have changed my life.”
My heart races and I blush furiously.
Jonathan takes a deep breath. “And now, I want to know…”
My heart is racing and my stomach is full of butterflies. What is he going to say?
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
My heart flutters in my chest, but I shrug like it’s nothing. “Maybe.”
Jonathan waits, his face anxious.
“I need you to promise me something first,” I say. “And it’s very important.”
“Anything.”
I pause, letting him sweat a little. “You let me have the bigger side of the hammock.”
He lets out a tremendous sigh of relief. “I thought it was serious.”
“Oh, it’s deadly serious.”
He laughs, takes me in my arms, and spins me in a circle. “For you? Anything.”
His finger traces the side of my face, and he tilts my chin back. He kisses me, and I feel like I might explode with happiness.
I don’t want the kiss to end, but real life intrudes.
“Jonathan! Kiara! We need you!”
We break apart, and I’m laughing harder than before at the thought of an angry Delia coming on the warpath.
Together, we head out of the gazebo, strolling back to the Legacy Inn, our hands locked tight.
38
Jonathan
“If you’re dating Kiara the Queen, does that make you King Jonathan?”
I read Troy’s email and roll my eyes. I told him in my last message that Kiara and I are officially together. Though I still haven’t mentioned why I’m here at the Inn, I’ve told him why he should stop using the nickname.
I write a quick response to Troy, stressing that the nickname is old news and asking about things in Edendale. According to his last message, my secret is still safe — no one in Edendale suspects that I skipped out on Momentum.
In fact, a few of my friends and teammates have emailed asking about Momentum and about team tryouts for next year.
I also had an email from Lucas asking if I minded that he’s now dating Isabella. I chuckled loudly at that and sent him my blessings.
Guilt crushes me, though, as I open my mom’s email last.
I hope you’re doing well at Momentum, Jonathan! Your dad and I know that you’re giving it your best shot and we are so proud of you. Let me know what the address is so I can send you your care package. I’ve included lots of protein bars and new shin guards!
Love, Mom
I can hear the tense note in her voice asking for the address. I barely remember a time my parents weren’t high-strung and stressed about my soccer career.
I shake myself off and remember the soccer ball currently wedged under Kiara’s cabin. We tried to get it out the other day, but it’s truly stuck. That is the most effort I’ve put into playing soccer this summer.
I click out of my mom’s email without typing a response, reminding myself not to feel guilty for pursuing my dream. This summer has already been such a massive step forward and I feel more excited every day to go to school for photography.
I make my way out of the reception area and walk to the garden. Kiara and I went back to Legacy summit this morning, and I decided to check my emails before work. Now, I’m on duty and looking for Kiara.
She’s at the docks, helping an elderly lady move her sunchair away from the edge.
The past two months with Kiara have been amazing. Sunshine, rain, thunderstorm — it doesn’t matter, every day feels magical. Her courage makes me brave and her creativity inspires me. She would’ve loved my grandpa.
The last time we were at the computers, Kiara sent a photo to the Glacier Journal. The image was spectacular; I was so proud of her. She captured the sunrise perfectly, and I have so much faith in her and in that photo.
I don’t know if she’s heard back yet, but she doesn’t seem concerned. If they don’t accept the picture, I’ll be shocked.
As I approach, Kiara looks up at me. With her breezy smile and long hair, she looks perfect. I bring my camera to my face and snap two photos of her as she helps the elderly lady settle into the chair.
Most of my recent photos are of Kiara. I’m trying to capture her expressions and do her justice, but my photos don’t compare to how beautiful she is in real life. I like to think a few of them are close, though.
She hops down from the dock and walks over. “Creeping me again?”
“Always.”
We walk towards the Inn as I scroll back through my photos. It’s incredible to see how they’ve changed. With Kiara’s help, my photography skills are getting better and better. Not that I can share this with the people back home...
“Something’s on your mind.” Kiara says. A statement, not a question.
“My parents,” I say hesitantly. “I wish they could see these.”
Part of the reason I went to the computers was to see if I had any emails from my parents. We’ve always celebrated my victories together. It breaks my heart to pursue something I love without being able to share it with them.
Kiara gives me a hug, resting her head on my shoulder. “They’d be proud.”
“Maybe,” I say, but I doubt it.
“They would be. You have so much to be proud of.”
I try to smile, but I still feel guilty.
Kiara turns to me as we enter the garden. Her beautiful eyes meet mine.
“And if nothing else, just know that I’m proud of you.”
39
Kiara
“Kiara, Jonathan!” Bree bursts through the bushes.
It’s a warm afternoon and I’m exhausted. Jonathan and I are regularly chasing the sunrise at the Legacy summit, and this means that our afternoon naps in the hammocks are key to our survival.
I sit up reluctantly, tired and bleary-eyed. In the hammock next to me, Jonathan is sitting upright with his hair standing on one side. He looks like an electrified meerkat. I stifle a snort as Bree approaches us.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Nice hair.” Bree says to Jonathan. He hurriedly pats down the one side as I burst into laughter. “Have you heard from Delia? We’re having a meeting tonight.”
“Haven’t seen her.” I was looking forward to a long, blissful sleep.
“What time?” Jonathan yawns.
“She said she has a big announcement.” Bree says. “Meeting’s at six in the staff room.”
“Cool,” Jonathan draws out the “oo” as he flops back into his hammock.
I roll my eyes and hop out. It’s almost 5:30 now, there’s no point in trying to sleep anymore.
“I’ll come with you, Bree.” I say before turning towards Jonathan and uttering “sweet dreams” at his toppled self.
I detect a barely audible snore. Yep, he’ll be out for a while.
Bree and I link arms as we head back towards the cabins. I appreciate her spontaneity and sense of humor. I think we might actually be friends at school in the coming year. She and I are so different, but Legacy Inn blurs the lines.
“See ya at six, Kiara.” Bree heads off towards the lake, likely to find Noah.
I stare at my little A-frame home and make a quick decision to head to the computers.
I’ve been avoiding checking my emails. Ever since I sent Glacier Journal my sunrise photo, I’ve been having second thoughts as to whether it was the right choice. Not only for me, but for Jonathan. I don’t expect to get a response, but I worry more about breaking the news to him than getting the rejection. He has so much faith and optimism, it’d be heartbreaking to see him disappointed in their response, or lack of response.
I’m walking through the reception to get to the computers when Delia cal
ls out from the little office.
“Kiara, dear! Would you be able to give me a hand?”
I jog over and take a peek inside the office. Delia is trying and failing to grab an enormous cardboard box from the top of the cupboard. I grab one end of the box and almost topple beneath the weight.
“Woah, Delia!” I exclaim as I awkwardly maneuver part of the box into my hands. “You were going to do this alone?!”
Delia successfully grabs the other end of the box. “It’s not that heavy.”
Categorically untrue. We hoist the box off of the cupboard and place it on the ground. The top pops open, revealing stacks of the Inn’s brochures — the same one I had on my dining table before coming to Legacy Inn.
“Thank you, dear.” Delia shoves the box towards her desk.
Her office is cute, colorful, and no-nonsense. Photos of family and friends are scattered haphazardly on the walls, and Inn-related paperwork litters her desk. A felt garland hangs decoratively on the back of her door — a remnant from the Holiday season. Behind her desk, a massive aerial photo of the Inn and the grounds shows its age. The Inn has grown exponentially in the last few years.
“It’s a good shot, isn’t it?” Delia asks as I gaze at the aerial photo.
“How old is it? The Inn doesn’t even have the guest wings.”
“Ten, fifteen years, maybe?” Delia picks up a brochure and smacks it against her palm. “All of our photography is outdated. That’s why I’m so glad to have you and Jonathan here.”
“Same.”
Delia chuckles, takes a seat at her desk, and rifles through a stack of paperwork. Anything she deems not important gets tossed to the floor.
“I had my reservations when this thing started. But look how far you two have come! You’re friends, our social media accounts are blooming, and each picture is better than the next.”
“He’s getting better and better, isn’t he?” I say, smiling. I’m ‘winning’ the social media post competition, but Jonathan’s catching up.
The Complete Legacy Inn Collection: Four Sweet YA Romances Page 60