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“I hated those parties back then. It was always a bunch of summer kids trying to hook up with the locals.” I rub my bottom lip, remembering the one time I went to a beach party while Tucker and I were on one of our breaks and ended up kissing a north side boy. “Did you ever make out with any of the local girls?”
“Only one. Did you ever make out with any of the guys from the other side of the lake?” he asks.
“Only one. And only because I got roped into a game of truth or dare that played out more like a game of spin the bottle. It ended almost as soon as it started, though, because some jerk made a trailer trash comment—”
“—and a fight broke out.”
“How do you know that?” I can feel my face heating up. I’d hate to think that Van, who had been crushing on me back then, had witnessed that embarrassing moment.
“Because it was me.”
“What was you?” My pulse speeds up at the memory. The way I hadn’t been able to see that summer boy’s face because the fire was burning low and he’d been wearing a ball cap.
“I was the one who kissed you. I didn’t even know it was you,” Van says quietly.
“Because I was wearing a sweatshirt—”
“—and the hood was up,” he finishes for me.
I’d been hiding behind it, watching Tucker flirt with some girl from the other side of the lake. The bottle landed on me, and someone dared Van to kiss me. So he did.
I shake my head. “I thought about that kiss for the rest of the summer.”
“Me too.” He rubs his bottom lip, leaving behind a smudge of dirt. His left eyebrow arches. “Did you think good things?”
I breathe out a laugh. “Yeah. I thought good things. I wondered for the rest of the summer if it was you I’d run into, but you were too embarrassed that you’d gotten called out for macking on trailer trash.”
“Stop saying that. It’s pissing me off. If I’d known it was you, I would have been at your door every damn day for the rest of the summer.”
“I still can’t believe it was you,” I say softly.
“Seems like fate is trying to tell us something, don’t you think?” He slides his chair across the rough wood floor, closer to me.
“Maybe Bee is trying to send us messages from heaven.”
“Maybe.” He reaches out and drags my chair away from the makeshift table so we’re knee to knee, his legs parting to bracket mine.
He props his forearms on his thighs; his knuckles barely graze my knee and send a shiver running down my spine. “Can I tell you something else?”
“Sure.” It’s more breath than word.
“You make me nervous.” His voice is soft and low.
It’s also not what I expected to hear. I tip my head, unsure where he’s going with this.
He links our pinkies. “Do you want to know why?”
“Sure.”
His fingertips glide along my palm, and a wave of goose bumps flashes over my skin. “Because I feel like you see me. Like it doesn’t matter what I say or do. I’m transparent, and you’re already under my skin.”
“And why does that make you nervous?”
He runs his thumb over my knuckles and lifts my hand. “Because I want you to like what you see, the same way I like what I see in you.” He drops his head until I can feel his breath break across the back of my hand. “Do you, Dillion?” The end of his nose brushes my knuckle. “Like what you see, that is.”
Another shiver runs through me. “Tonight, I do.” It’s a breathy whisper.
He peeks up at me and grins. “And before tonight?”
“I was on the fence.”
“What changed?”
“Tonight you showed me the real you.”
His lips touch the back of my hand, and I exhale a shuddery breath.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Okay.” I nod.
He lifts his head, eyes searching mine as he twirls an errant curl around his finger, then drags a single finger along the edge of my jaw.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been very nice to you.”
He nods in agreement. “It’s part of your allure, just like mine is needling the shit out of you until I get a reaction.”
“You’re definitely good at that.”
“Good enough that if I kissed you, you might kiss me back?”
“There’s a reasonably good chance of that.”
He leans in closer and tips his head to the right, so I angle mine and meet him halfway. Just before our lips connect, he tucks his thumb under my chin and mutters, “I’d better not fuck this up.”
My chuckle turns into a sigh when his lips brush over mine, sending an electric jolt through me. We both still.
“Did you feel that?”
“It’s probably just the storm.” I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull his mouth back to mine to see whether I’m right. I also notice that the patter of rain has slowed significantly, and it’s not nearly as forceful or violent as it was when we first stumbled in here.
