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The wind picked up and blew the rain under the awning, but neither of us moved as I kissed her slowly. Every wall that I spent years building up broke down.

Let them.

Let them all.

Let every single stone of mine lay at her feet.

She was worth it.

Chapter Nineteen

Eliza

“O, teach me how I should forget to think!”

—William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

My clothes stuck to me like I had swum in a river with them on, and my hair continued to drip down my back after Reed dropped me off at my Jeep. All the way home, I played the moment between us at the amphitheater over and over again, so distracted I almost ran the red light outside of the church.

Thankfully, my phone—still dry since I had left it in Reed’s truck—kept buzzing with message reminders from Dad. For one panicked moment I thought maybe he messaged me because he saw Reed and me slip out of the diner. But it was pretty crowded at the time, and his back had been to us as we ducked out.

There was no way he saw us.

Right?

Either way, I didn’t plan to read any of the missed texts from him until I got home. Nothing was going to ruin this moment and the bubbly giddiness I felt.

I pulled off Main Street and down our long driveway, absentmindedly counting the trees lining both sides, the same way kids often counted stairs while they climbed. Lauryn always said these trees creeped her out because they moved when she walked by them, like they followed her with their invisible tree eyes. It was strange to think that Reed had passed these trees not too long ago to drop off my bag of My Little Pony toys. So much had changed since that peace offering.

I stopped the Jeep short near the open garage, my smile disappearing faster than the makeup crew after touchups during intermission. Dad stood under the hickory tree near the old tire swing with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. An ice-cold rock dropped into my gut.

Oh God. He did see us at the diner.

What was he going to say? Would he ground me for the rest of the summer? Make me quit the play?

And what about Reed? What about us? Was this over just as quickly as it had begun because Jenny’s had the best pie around?

My hands shook as I turned off the engine and stepped out of the Jeep. Dad gave my soaked clothes a quick once-over before he walked away from the tree, up the front porch steps, and inside the house, slamming the door behind him.

Truth: When Hurricane Dad gave you the silent treatment first instead of yelling at you outright, that’s when you were in the deepest of—

Mom swung open the door. “Eliza, inside. Now.”

Shit.

I no sooner dropped my soaked Converse on the mat inside the front door than Dad started berating me with questions.

“Where the hell were you this afternoon? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” His face changed to a deep red, almost purple. “And why in God’s name did you leave Lauryn alone at the store on a Thursday? She doesn’t work there, Eliza!”

I struggled to swallow. “She’s…she’s helped me before—”

“Helping you is a hell of a lot different than being in charge. A group of contractors from Dennis and Sons came by for their order, and she had no idea what to do. Finally, one of them had the sense to call me. I had to leave a very important meeting to handle it.”

A meeting at a diner was “very important”?

He threw his hands up. “They were late to their jobsite, Eliza!”

“Will, calm down. You scream any louder and you’ll shatter your mother’s china.” Mom entered the room with one of the bath towels from the guest bathroom and tossed it to me. I pushed it against my face, grateful for the brief escape from my father’s heated stare, and relieved that he obviously hadn’t seen us earlier.