And she’d said the words he’d been waiting for, the ones he’d come here specifically to ask her for.
He licked his lips. “I realized—she helped me realize—you were afraid I settle too easily, but that was exactly what I was doing with you. Settling for less than what I want.”
“And what is it that you want?”
His throat burned. “Everything.”
She swallowed, her gaze flickering between his hand and his eyes. “It’s funny. My dad had this thing he used to say when I was a kid. ‘You don’t ask, you don’t get.’”
“Oh?”
“He was an asshole about a lot of things, but he wasn’t wrong about that.” She tiptoed her fingers higher up his wrist toward his forearm. “I’m glad you’re asking.”
“Does it mean I’m going to get?”
Looking at him straight on now, she said, “Everything that’s in my power to give you.” Her smile flickered. “It isn’t going to be easy, though. Twelve hours isn’t exactly commutable.”
Nothing with Jo had ever been easy. Then again, maybe that was why it was… “Worth it.” He clasped her hand in his again, holding on. “Besides, it’s not forever.”
“It’s not.” She considered for a second. “Just a year. So next fall…”
“We apply to the same places and hope for the best. There are plenty of grad schools, and it’s not like either of us is bound by geography.” He’d prefer someplace closer to his family, but he’d already spent three years the whole height of the country away from them. He’d go where he needed to. If Jo went with him, he’d go anywhere.
She wrinkled her nose. “Playing devil’s advocate, though, you really think it’s a good idea, planning our grad school experience around this?” With her free hand, she gestured between the two of them.
He’d given this a lot of thought, actually, while he’d been driving. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her he’d prepared a speech.
Rising up onto his elbow, he grasped her hand more firmly.
“Listen, I know it wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but what we said right before we left. Maybe, someday, if the stars align…” Just thinking about it made his chest go tight. “Here’s the thing. The stars… We study this stuff. We can predict where every visible point in the sky is going to be ten, twenty, one hundred years from now. We know the statistics and the odds. Next fall”—he paused, taking a deep breath—“we make them align.”
Sure, there’d be some waiting involved, but it wouldn’t be hopeless or idle. It would be with the two of them in their own separate cities, on opposite ends of the same wire, putting things in motion.
Her body curled toward him, and her eyes shone. “You really think we can make it work.”
“I know we can.”
Because she wasn’t a comet, and he wasn’t some idle stargazer, watching her burn past from the ground.
She was a star. Maybe they both were. A binary system, two points of light circling around each other and spiraling closer. Drawn in by gravity, fueled by a fire as old as the universe itself.
And he was never letting her out of his orbit again.
Epilogue
One year later…
“If everyone would please take their seats?”
Jo’s heart did a weird, fluttery thing in her chest. She glanced around the room, and it barely took any work. Adam wasn’t exactly hard to miss, standing a full head above most of the rest of the crowd, but even if he hadn’t been, her gaze just seemed to go to him.
And his to her.
Craning his neck, he caught her eye and smiled. Jo excused herself from the rest of the group she’d been talking to and made her way over to him.
As she approached, Adam held out his hand, and she slipped hers into it. “You ready for this?” she asked.
“Born ready.”
They found a couple of empty seats near the middle of the room. It took a few minutes, but everyone else settled down soon enough.
Adam leaned over and whispered in her ear, “You want to put any money on this?”
She rolled her eyes at him, but it was all bravado. Nerves had her jostling her knee up and down, tapping the heel of her boot in staccato against the ground.
The year she and Adam had spent apart had been one of the best and worst of her life. She’d missed him constantly, but there’d still been that connection. Text messages and phone calls and the occasional visit. Over winter break, she’d spent one awkward day at her father’s house and then headed down to Florida for a full week with Adam and his family, and it was the least alone she’d felt in her life.
When the time came, they’d coordinated their top picks for graduate programs. Adam hadn’t gotten into her top choice, but they’d both been accepted at her second.
“I don’t want to hold you back,” he’d said, his voice guarded over the phone.
And it had taken her a minute. A long, anguished minute. But her priorities weren’t the same as they’d been before. “You’re not.”
He never did. He held her up. Supported her and everything she chose to be.
So they’d packed up their individual apartments and moved into a tiny one-bedroom place ten minutes from campus, and things were great. So great she never could’ve imagined being so happy.
But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t have a hell of a lot riding on this announcement.
While this had been her second-choice school, it’d been one of her first choices for advisors. This past month, all the first-year students had interviewed with various faculty to find the one whose lab group they’d join, the one they’d spend the next four to five years working in close proximity with. It wasn’t make or break, but if she ended up with Maria… Dr. Maria Evans…
Well. Then she wouldn’t be giving up anything. She’d have her boyfriend and her career and a top-notch professor to help her shape her dissertation. It’d be perfect.
In a calming gesture, Adam placed his hand on her knee. The weight and warmth of his touch eased her nerves and her restless fidgeting. She forced out a slow, deep breath.
Releasing her knee, Adam clasped their palms together. Then he trailed higher, letting his fingertips drift over the new ink on the inside of her wrist. It matched the tattoo he’d gotten on his shoulder, the one she loved to trace while they lay together in bed at night.
Just a dozen points of deep black sewn into their skin, connected by the faintest of lines. A map of the Scorpius constellation.
Their shared confirmation that their stars had aligned.
And just like that, she didn’t have to work nearly as hard to keep her breathing easy and slow.
As the room quieted down, the head of the department took the podium, welcoming them and congratulating them on surviving their first month as PhD candidates. “And now. The moment you’ve all been waiting for.”
Jo hated this overly dramatic bullshit. Why couldn’t they just e-mail out their matches like normal human beings?
She sat there on the edge of her seat, listening and applauding politely as pairs of students and mentors were called up.
“Adam McCay?”
Jo’s heart thundered as Adam released her hand and stood.
The chair of the department smiled. “You’ll be working with Sally Durand.”
One of his top selections. Jo warmed with relief, while at the same time tensing, because…
“And Jo Kramer?”
Oh hell. As Adam sat back down, Jo rose. She couldn’t breathe. This could be it.
“Your advisor is Sally’s collaborator, Maria Evans.”
She made eye contact with the woman across the room. Maria grinned and mouthed, “Congrats.”
The next student’s name was called, but Jo barely heard anything else that was going on. She sank into her chair like all of her strings had been cut. Beside her, Adam beamed, eyes sparkling.