“Just remember what you promised about tailoring my dress to fit if I get fat,” I murmur, knowing that the baby weight hasn’t come off me as quickly as I’d hoped despite my daily workouts.
It’s the Twizzlers.
The stupid, stupid Twizzlers.
He chuckles. “Anything for you.”
I just roll my eyes.
And less than twenty-four hours later, sitting in the audience surrounded by people I’ve spent my life fangirling from the confines of my house, I get to watch Corbin walk on stage, accept his Oscar for best male lead, and stare me right in the eyes as he delivers his speech.
His normally gravelly voice is raspy as he fights off the emotion that mirrors my own. “Little Bird, the only person I can truly thank right now is you. This was your book, your story, and I’m just lucky to be along for the ride. Thank you, baby. I can’t wait to watch you flourish. I love you.”
The audience claps as he raises his trophy. I swipe at my cheeks as Olivia reaches over and squeezes my arm gently, smiling at me as Corbin gets escorted off the stage while the hosts make their way back out to continue the show.
Sniffing back tears, I look down at the little blue origami bird resting on my wrist right above the fly with me tattoo written in Corbin’s handwriting. Corbin has the same one pinned to his black tuxedo jacket.
When he returns to our table, he kisses me, the people around us whistle, and I get lost in the boy with silver eyes all over again.
Stay in Touch ***