At the end of the book, Scarlett pens a letter to her sister, congratulating her on an upcoming marriage to Jeremiah. Some of you asked if we could see how they "got together." You ALSO asked me if I could show you how Scarlett & Easton initially met.

 

So, I'm including a short scene of how Jeremiah & Tully got together below and tomorrow, I'll send you the scene of how Scarlett and Easton first met!

 

I'm shipping your signed paperbacks this weekend, so grab one for your shelf! They are now permanently in the F.L.Y. Store. If you ordered one previously (& if you grab one before October 1st), I wrote you a personalized letter in honor of this book. <3

 

(Unedited and written for FUN because I EFFIN LOVE these characters <3 )
 

 

"You'll never be as good as us! Might as well give it up! Go! Fight! Win!" 

 

I'm sitting in front of my laptop, watching videos of my high school cheerleading squad. Although I'll never be able to flip again, my physical therapist is convinced that "there's some dancing" in my future.

 

As I'm nodding along to our team's spirit dance, the doorbell rings.

 

That soft sound has become a hope for me over the past several months. It means new paperbacks to devour, crazy word puzzles for Scarlett and me, or some random product for me to review on my anonymous TikTok and Instagram accounts. (Social media, sadly, is still a hard habit to kill.)

 

"One second! I'm coming!" I grab my cane and walk toward the door.

 

There is no delivery man or a stack of boxes waiting when I open the door.

It's Jeremiah, dressed in grey sweats and a white T-shirt. He's holding purple flowers and a duffel bag, and his stunning green eyes are gleaming in the sunlight. 

 

"Hello, Tully." He smiles, and my heart skips a beat.

 

"Um..." I clear my throat. "Hi."

 

A strange fluttering fills my chest, and I stare at him, unsure of what to say next. I haven't seen him since my last regular day on campus, and his life has gone on a much better, far-less-than-tragic trajectory.

 

He's a star offensive player on the Atlanta Falcons, and from the games I've watched, the television cameras don't do him any justice.

 

 

He's hotter now than before, and from the sexy smile on his lips, I know that he can talk any woman into sleeping with him.

 

"Are you okay, Tully?" he asks.

 

"Yeah, sorry." I shake my head. "Scarlett and Easton went out to get groceries. I can call and tell them that you're here."

 

"What makes you think I'm here to see them?"

 

"Aren't you?"

 

"No." He extends the flowers to me. "I came here for you."

 

I stare at the blooms in awe. I think of all the ways to keep my balance instead of grabbing them so I won't make a fool of myself.

 

As if he can read my mind, he places a hand over mine. "How about I put them in a vase for you?"

 

"That would be nice." I move back, and he follows me inside.

 

He opens a few cabinets and takes out an oversized coffee mug. Then he fills it with water before gently tucking the stems into the glass. 

 

"Shouldn't you be getting ready for this weekend's game?" I ask.

 

"The doctors refuse to clear me." He sighs. "They don't want to take any chances on me re-injuring my elbow. I nearly shattered it during week seven."

 

"I heard. Well, actually, I saw it live. I was watching that game."

 

"Why didn't you text me?"

 

"New phone and number."

 

"That explains a lot." He's staring at my lips. "I thought you were ignoring me all this time…"

 

"No, I..." I pause. "You're the first person from our high school who has ever come to see me."

 

"What?" He raises an eyebrow. "I refuse to believe that."

 

"It's true."

 

"What about your cheerleader friends?"

 

"They send 'Get Well Soon' texts and Edible Arrangements." I shrug. "They filled one of my recovery suites with balloons on my birthday, but they have yet to ask for my address."

 

"I'm sorry."
 

"Don't be." I shake my head. "It's way past time for me to finally learn what the word 'friendship' means. I'd rather learn it now than later."
 

He nods. 

 

"Why are you here, Jeremiah?" I ask. "Like, really..."

 

"To make you breakfast." He points to the duffle bag. "I haven't been able to get you off my mind since I saw you at the hospital," he says. "I know it's been a while, but I've been wanting to make sure you're okay."

 

"You could've sent me letters."

 

"Ask your sister what she did with them..."

 

I make a mental note to do that later.

 

"Does your girlfriend know you're here?" I glance behind him. "Is she in the car waiting to make sure I'm okay, too?"

 

He blinks. 

 

"I may be injured, but I'm not stupid, Jeremiah." I lean against the wall. "All the gossip sites have reported on her all this season."

 

"You've been thinking about me, too?"

 

"They say you're rude as hell to any groupie who approaches you, and you've rebuffed a few celebrities, too."

 

"I'm not rude to groupies," he says. "I just don't pay them any attention."

 

"Well, your girlfriend is fortunate. Most professional athletes aren't faithful."

 

"That's true," he says. 

 

"You can go now," I say. "Thank you for the flowers. You don't need to make me breakfast. Save that for your girlfriend."

 

"The last girlfriend I wanted was really complicated."

 

"You can save this conversation for her, too."

 

"She wasn't my girlfriend, but I wanted her to be." He's still talking, not moving toward the door. "We were at her 'Sinners and Saints' party, but we were both dating other people..."

 

“I…” I suck in a breath. "I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"You don't remember that night?"

 

I think about it all the time... "It's all still a blur."

 

"Let me remind you, then." He presses a kiss against my forehead. "I found you near the pool upset because your boyfriend--"

 

"My fake boyfriend."

 

"Okay, fine." He smiles. "Your fake boyfriend abandoned you, and the girl I thought I was dating abandoned me, too. Is any of this starting to sound familiar?"

 

I shake my head, still steeped in denial. 

 

"Okay," he continues, "You told me that you felt like you and me talked more than you and Easton, and that he wasn't into you."

 

"You said you weren't sure if Scarlett was into you first..."

 

"Good to see you're remembering." He smiles, and suddenly, it feels like we're back at my house party again. 

 

I'm leaning against his shoulder and crying, telling him that I feel like my relationship with Easton is over, that I can't help but feel like my friends aren't really my "friends." He's telling me that he feels alone, too. That he's worried about his college playing career, and he's been unhappy for so long that it hurts. 

 

And then his lips are on mine, and he's laying me against the pool's concrete before I come to my senses and make him stop. 

 

"I remember," I say, snapping out of the trance and looking into his eyes. "I think about that night all the time."

 

"Me too." He crashes his lips against mine, and he kisses me like he did at my party, but I don't tell him to stop this time. I let him kiss me until I'm breathless, until he pulls away and lets me come up for air. 

 

"I don't have a girlfriend, Tully," he whispers against my lips. "I've just told everyone that so I don't fuck up my chances with a woman I can't stop thinking about."

 

"Me?" I know he means ‘me,’ but I can't help but blurt out the obvious. "You used to date Scarlett."

 

"You used to date Easton."

 

"Did you love her?"

 

"No. Did you love him?"

 

"No." I glance at his duffel bag. "Did you bring pancake batter?"

 

"Yes."

 

"The knockoff kind or the good kind?"

 

"The best kind. Gayle's."

 

"What about strawberries and whipped cream?"

 

"I brought that, too."

 

"How long were you planning to stay after you made breakfast?" 

 

"As long as you want me to."

 

"That might be a while...Did you bring extra clothes?"

 

He laughs and pulls me close again, kissing me until tears are pricking my eyes, and this feels right. 

 

This feels like it's meant to be. 

 

*See you tomorrow with Scarlett & Easton!