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Jason walks me back home after we finish our ice creams. He leads me to the edge of the road and steps over the rope separating road from sand. He takes my hand to help me over the rope, and I let him. I take off my shoes, and he offers to carry them, so I let him do that, too. The sand feels warm between my toes, still sun-hot from the day. The long dune grass tickles my legs as we walk side by side through a hidden, narrow pathway.
The view is beautiful here.
Reds and purples streak across the sky and reflect across the sea. Even the white sand dunes look tinged with a soft, blushing pink.
His arm brushes against mine as we walk. His forearms have so much hair on them, and they tickle me.
There are parts of his body that seem so much like a man—the hair on his arms, his impressive height, the strength of his biceps.
But then he smiles—that mischievous, devil-may-care smile—and he looks so much like a boy.
We walk until the sky loses its color. When we get to the end of the path, Jason puts my shoes on the ground and lets me balance with a hand on his shoulder as I step into them.
We leave the beach for the road and follow the elm trees and crickets to Four’s house. The lights are on—kitchen, living room. I can see the flicker of the TV playing—probably one of Four’s old western movies.
“How’re you getting home?” I ask.
“I’ll walk.”
“I can get Four to drive you.”
“Four?”
“Uh…Terry.”
He grins. “I could use the walk. Thanks.”
“Well.” I lift a hand and invent some vague sweeping motion. “Thanks for the ice cream, I guess—”
Before I know it, his hand is on my face. We’re close now, his perfect blue eyes trapped on mine. I can feel his breath, warm against my cheek.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks.
Yes, beg my lips, pouty and aching.
Yes, answers my heart, pounding against my rib cage.
Yes, scream my unrepentant, shameless teenage hormones.
But then I see Donovan in my mind’s eye. My lust curdles.
I button my lips together and duck out of his embrace, pulling away. “Good night, Jason.”
He opens his arms wide, imploring. “What’s it going to take?”
I clutch my elbows and shrug.
He squints at me, like we’re playing a game. “Give me a clue.”
“Truth or dare?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Dare.”
“I dare you to be less of a jackass to Donovan. See where that gets you.”
With that, I slip inside the house, leaving Jason alone on the doorstep.
17
