Dearest Ellie,

I hope this doesn't startle you. I sat outside and wrote this in the car after our incredible night together. I should have asked for a phone number, but I didn't think about it until you had dashed that pretty behind inside. You see, I'm a little senseless when you're in my presence. You're such a stunning vision, a whisper of perfection, a blossomed beauty. I hope that we can keep in touch. If you're interested, perhaps phone me? I don't want to lose touch with the girl who has stolen my heart. It may come across as strong, but I feel more than I ever believed I was capable of feeling when I'm with you. You're an embodiment of an angel, and I'm counting down the days until I'm in Waco and close to you again, Ellie Livingston.

Sincerely, Leroy



At the bottom of the letter that Leroy wrote me was a phone number. A jumble of digits that set us on the course to a whirlwind romance. We spent hours on the telephone. We got to know each other through conversation that may have been long-distance, but the smoothness of his voice and the gentle tone of his sweet nothings made me feel so close to him. Now, a month later, the paper was wrinkled and tearing at the corner from how often I reread it because the feeling that it gave me was the same as it had been the first time. Butterfly central.

By some miracle, my mother allowed me to spend the rest of summer in Castle Rock, on a strict set of conditions, of course. More miraculous still was that I could spend it with Leroy, in his home. Our mothers had spoken on the phone and agreed that as long as we were in separate bedrooms and had a ten o'clock curfew, it was fine.

However, there was still the small matter of being accepted by his upper-class parents. Mom's salary wouldn't have been a quarter of what his parents made, and I was nervous to think that I might not fit in or be the sort of woman that they want their son to date. What if they thought I was a gold digger? I'd expressed these concerns to him on the phone and he'd said that it was ridiculous to think like that, but still, I couldn't help but worry.

"You sure you've got everything?" Momma asked as I bounced on the spot, watching the boarding chart and waiting for my flight number to be called. "You didn't pack a lot."

"Momma, I've got a secure system set up," I assured her, still not one hundred percent focused on her face or words. "As long as I can use the washing machine, and I'm sure that I can, I've got all that I need."

I was nothing if not organized. I had a rotation of outfits that I could mix and match. Accessories to spice them up and seven different lipstick colors to ensure that I could pop a perfect pout no matter what the occasion.

"Be safe, and I'd really appreciate it if you could give your future some thought," Momma pointed an authoritative finger at me. "I know that I can't afford to put you through college, but—"

"Come on, Momma," I cut her off. "I'm going to take a small business course when I've got enough cash. And one day, I'll own a skincare line. I've told you all of this. There's no chance that I could work as a measly employee for the rest of my life— no offense."

Momma smiled, although it wasn't convincing. "I know that you don't want to end up like me but be realistic. And don't base your future on this boy because these things can be fleeting."

I frowned at the pessimistic woman who'd raised me. "I'm not basing anything off Leroy. I've wanted to run a business since I was a freshman. I'll do it with or without him. And what we have isn't fleeting. He loves me, Momma."

"Whatever you say," she said. "Look, I mean it, behaving. His mother assured me that she'd phone and have you sent home if there was even a hint of acting up. You don't be alone with that boy in his room, you keep your hands to yourselves, and don't even think about touching alcohol. You hear?"

"Yes Momma," I said, holding back a restless sigh. It wasn't as if I hadn't heard it all before. "I promise. Besides, I've only met him in person once. It's not like we know each other well enough to . . . you know . . ."

Fortunately, I'd become quite talented in the art of lying. She didn't know that I'd given him a piece of me that I could never get back—and she never would. She didn't know that I was in love with him. I hadn't given it away on a whim. I'd felt something for him that I couldn't explain, and I knew that even if he hadn't kept in touch, I wouldn't have regretted it.

After a few more "words of wisdom" from Momma, we said goodbye at the gate, and I went through security to wait. The call for my flight came over the PA, and I squealed through a clenched jaw as I slung my backpack on and adjusted my T-shirt, the summer sun making me sweat like crazy.

The flight wasn't long, just over two hours, but it was my first, and I tried to appreciate it. I had saved every last dollar that I'd made from working at the local pharmacy after school and on weekends. The funds were going toward the business course that I planned on taking. But I withdrew a small amount for the tickets and spending money. I wanted to appreciate what I had paid for, but my mind was spinning with the knowledge that I would soon be seeing Leroy after an entire month of nothing but hearing his voice. It had kept me going, that's for sure.

When the flight landed, I ran a hand through my frazzled mess of hair and pulled it into a bun. My palms had become damp and I vigorously wiped them on my high-waisted shorts before I stood and joined the line to get off the plane. What would it be like to see him again? Would we slide into familiarity with ease? Would the nerves make it awkward? It felt like every traveler was moving at a snail's pace, but eventually we made it off the plane.

After I'd gone through customs and collected my luggage, I stood to the side of the gate, searching for him, my thoughts still a shambles of uncertain excitement. A voice that I'd become so familiar with purred from behind me. I could feel his presence, feel an electric hum settling around me, a result of my heart working overtime.

"Hello, Ellie."

His voice was like butter. Soft and smooth, sliding over me and seeping into my skin. It was what I had come to know. I had made love to this man, cried his name in a night of passion, and touched every surface of his magnificent body. But his soul, his deep voice, his poetic words, those were what I had fallen in love with.

I turned around and laid a gaze on his gorgeous grin. He stood tall, hands in his jean pockets, his hair swept over in an unkempt mess. He screamed confidence. And why wouldn't he? He was irresistible. His charm and presence couldn't be missed, even when he didn't utter a word. I drank in his appearance. His jeans rolled up at the ankles, his white Chuck Taylors, and the fitted white muscle shirt that allowed a view of his sinfully delicious arms.

He stepped forward and drew me in with his large hand wrapped around my waist.

"I have missed you a whole damn lot, Ellie Livingston," he smiled before he crashed his lips against mine and I was lost to the world. Gone. Only existing with the life that he breathed into me with that unbelievable kiss.

I didn't want it to end. I could have kissed him until the sun set and the stars birthed a new night. But his mouth parted from mine and we both sighed with relief. "I missed you too," I finally managed to tell him.

"Mom's excited to meet you," he said as he dropped an arm around my shoulder and took my bag.

Perhaps I had jumped the gun a little. I knew a lot of the families in my hometown had a stuck-up mindset. That didn't mean every single rich person was a snob and a half. There's a good chance that I was the snob for making such assumptions.

During the journey home, he drove us in a black 1996 Mercedes-Benz. The seats were made of soft leather and the ride was smooth. Our pickup back home was reliable, but she was old, that's for sure. I'd never been in such a new vehicle. But still, as exciting as that was, nothing could compare to the butterflies that I felt when Leroy's hand held mine. We spent the two-hour journey talking. We never exhausted topics, and every time he turned to smile at me, my heart would flutter, threatening to fly right out of my chest. Compared to home, Colorado—or what I was seeing of it—was a lot of vast space, and the Rockies were every bit as stunning as I thought they'd be. There were large meadows, small plants, shrubs, and scattered trees. It was so open and a refreshing change from the suburban city that I was used to.

Leroy's home was at the top of a hill, surrounded by big Douglas and white fir trees, no doubt it would have been gorgeous in the winter, the needles coated in snow. Right now, the branches provided decent shade from the sun. The two-story brick mansion faced the street, climbing vines were assisted by trellises, and thick green shrubs lined the path that led from the double driveway to the front door.

We parked in front of the garage and Leroy fetched the luggage from the trunk. I glanced up at him, squinting to avoid the sun that created a halo around his dark-brown locks. His face had the ability to make my heart race and I hoped that Momma was wrong. I hoped that this wasn't fleeting.

"Ready?" he asked. "They're going to love you."

Inside, it was as exquisite as I had imagined. There was a small space in the foyer that was tiled, but after that, a cream carpet lined the corridors and living room, which was down a simple two steps. A staircase in the corridor led upstairs and beyond that was the kitchen.

Leroy dropped my bag beside the staircase and then steered us back into the living room where his parents were sitting within the gloriously air-conditioned house. I felt a little sheepish as the two of them stood up with inspecting gazes.

"Mom, Dad," his grin was proud, "this is Ellie Livingston."

"Jacob," his father outstretched his aged hand with a gentle smile. I could see Leroy in his father's face. His eyes were blue, though, rather than brown, his shoulders and chest a little wider. But there was a definite likeness.

"I'm Eleanor," the woman greeted next with a kind and welcoming smile.

"Ha!" Jacob gestured between Eleanor and me. "Ellie . . . Eleanor. Similar names. How's that going for you, Leroy?"

Leroy grimaced. "Do we have to?"

"It's obvious that I'm his hero and inspiration for all things in life," Eleanor gave her shoulder-length greying waves a sassy sweep. "How was your flight, dear?"

"It was awesome," I said. "I've never flown before. I liked it."

Leroy pulled me closer, his hand resting on the curve of my waist as he leaned down and murmured in a hushed tone, wondering if we should go upstairs. That idea was abruptly interrupted when the sound of footsteps came thudding down the staircase, causing us to turn our attention over our shoulders.

A boy appeared at the entrance to the living room. He had a tall, leaner build and darker hair, but he bore that same mesmerizing attractiveness that his brother did. Leroy had given me a basic rundown on Noah. He was a year younger than Leroy, about to become a senior in high school. He was more business-savvy than athletic, though. He stuffed his hands into his shorts and made no subtleties about running his gaze over me at a slow and deliberate pace. Leroy's hand tightened around mine and I leaned into him.

"Ellie, this is my brother Noah. Noah, this is Ellie."

"You're the girl that has him whipped as hell," Noah tsked with disappointment. Leroy stiffened beside me.

"Noah, please," Eleanor scolded her son with a tiresome tone. She smoothed her button-up blouse and politely excused herself to get started on dinner preparations.

"Watch it," Jacob glared at his youngest son before he followed his wife, leaving the three of us in an awkward silence. It didn't last long.

"Do we get to share this one?" Noah gestured at me with a devious grin.

"Don't go there, Noah," Leroy warned. The brothers differed in height, Noah being taller, but Leroy was built with muscle and he was intimidating, to say the least. "We talked about this. Stop being fucking rude."

Noah rolled his eyes and shifted his weight, putting a little distance between the two of them. He gave me another once-over. "She's not good enough for this family," he muttered before his long legs carried him out of the room.

"Ignore him," Leroy said. He pressed a soft kiss on the top of my head before he led us back toward the staircase. "He's salty because he's got no one to drive him to and from his one-night stands and parties now. He's been sulking about it for the last month."

"You don't have to stop going to parties because of me," I told him as he picked up the suitcase we'd left before. He shot me a puzzled glance as we made tracks upstairs. "I mean, I wouldn't stop you from doing that."

"Would you go with me?"

"Sure," I said.

"Good. Because I want to show you off."