Sometimes slower than I wanted.
I tugged his shirt out of his jeans, glided my hand beneath the soft material, and skimmed my palm up his back. He groaned low, began pushing himself up—
“Oh, God! Oh, God! My back’s cramping.” His hand flew to his side, his head reared back.
“Okay, hold on.” I opened the door and clambered out of the car, trying to give him more room to maneuver. I pulled on his legs. He really was wedged in there. We’d already moved the seats up as far as they would go. “Here, take my hand.”
Finally he was able to shift slightly so he could crawl backward out of the car. Arching with his hands pressed to his spine, he paced back and forth several times. With a look of contrition, he finally straightened and laughed with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “That car has got to go.”
Although it was relatively new, it was the unsexiest thing I’d ever seen and looked like something my grandmother would drive to church. Walking over to him, I flattened my palms against his chest. “Maybe you could trade it in for a motorcycle.”
“Where would we make out?”
Good question. I’d have to talk to Avery about that. She pretty much became a motorcycle expert when she started dating Fletcher Thomas.
I heard the beep of an incoming text on my phone. I opened the front door, reached in, and grabbed my phone from where it rested on the console. Speak of the devil.
Avery:
Going to B.S. Meet us?
I almost said no but I was tired of the cramped backseat. I looked over my shoulder. “Want to meet Avery and Fletcher at the Burger Shack?”
“Guess I kinda ruined the mood with my old guy, back-out-of-whack impersonation.”
“It’s more the heat.” I slapped at a mosquito. “The bugs. And I’m a little hungry.”
“Okay, let’s go.” He slammed the back door while I slid into the passenger seat. Then he closed my door before jogging around and slipping behind the wheel.
He started off, slow and careful, backing away from the lake until we reached the road. I didn’t look to see what other cars were out there. This area was pretty much make-out central, but couples deserved their privacy.
“You know,” he began, “you don’t have to say Avery and Fletcher. If it’s Avery, I assume it’s Fletcher, too, now.”
Avery and Fletcher had started dating seriously just a few weeks ago. “I’m so glad she got a boyfriend,” I said. “I think she was starting to get a little uncomfortable hanging around with us all the time.” She’d been my best friend forever and Jeremy had always been good about inviting her to go places with us. I loved how considerate he was, but I had to admit it was nice that Jeremy and I had more time alone now.
“The right boyfriend.” Jeremy cast a quick glance my way. “You didn’t just want a boyfriend, did you? You wanted the right one.”
“Totally.” Reaching across the console, I touched his arm. “And you’re the right one for me. That’s what I wanted for Avery. Just didn’t expect the right one to be him.” Fletcher had a bad-boy reputation, had needed to take a summer class to graduate from high school. Avery was all smarts, ranked third in our class, and nearly always followed the rules. The ones she broke were harmless.
“I like him,” Jeremy said.
“He’s a lot different than I thought.” I knew Fletcher as a tough guy who often came to school looking like he’d been in a brawl. After getting to know him, though, I realized how sweet he could be—at least where Avery was concerned. The guy would do anything for her.
Jeremy pulled into the B.S. parking lot, came around, and opened the car door for me. It had taken me a while to get used to him doing that. I’d never had anyone open the door for me, but his dad had taught him to be courteous. It was a little old-fashioned, but I liked it. When we got to the front door of the restaurant, he held it open while I walked through.
Avery wasn’t here yet, so we settled in a booth near the back by the window so we had a view of the parking lot. We’d barely sat down, when I saw a motorcycle with two people on it roar into the lot. My heart skipped a beat at the recklessness. Jeremy would never take a risk like that. He was sure and steady—just like me. But I couldn’t help thinking about the thrill of the ride, noticing how brightly Avery was smiling as she got off the bike. Joy and happiness radiated off her.
“Is that why you suggested I trade in my car for a motorcycle?” Jeremy asked.
I’d been so absorbed watching them that I jerked with a little guilt at Jeremy’s question. “It just looks like it would be fun, doesn’t it?”
“A car is more practical. What do they do if they have to haul a bunch of stuff?”
Turning slightly, I looked at Jeremy with his conservative haircut. I put my hand over his, and he immediately turned his palm up and threaded our fingers together. I didn’t know why our mode of transportation was suddenly nagging at me. “But it would be exciting.”
“As long as you don’t smile while you’re whipping along and get bugs between your teeth.”
“I’ve never seen Fletcher with bugs.”
“He doesn’t smile all that much, either.”
“True.” Leaning in, I gave him a quick kiss. “And I love your smile.”
“Love yours, too. Bet I wouldn’t see it at all if we got caught in a rainstorm while riding that thing. We’d be like drowned cats.”
“I hadn’t considered that. It’s not very practical, is it?”
“Not that I can see.”
I wasn’t quite ready to give up on the thrill of having one. “Good gas mileage, maybe?”
“Drowned cat,” he repeated.
“Maybe we’re being too practical.” And boring.
Hearing the door open, I looked back. Avery was walking in, Fletcher right on her heels. I couldn’t be sure but I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d opened the door for herself. Fletcher was not as polite as Jeremy, not that Avery seemed to mind. She slid into the booth, sitting across from me.
“Hey, guys,” she said, smiling brightly.
Dropping onto the bench seat, Fletcher immediately put his arm around her shoulders and acknowledged us with a nod. Fletcher Thomas was a guy of few words.
“What were you up to?” Avery asked.
I felt myself grow warm, knew I was blushing. “Nothing special.”
Fletcher studied me, shifted his gaze to Jeremy, and hitched up a corner of his mouth. I figured he knew exactly what we’d been doing.
“We were down by the lake,” Jeremy said, and I wondered if I’d wounded his pride, if he felt a need to prove something with Fletcher around.
“Skinny-dipping?” Fletcher asked, a devilish twinkle in his eyes.
“Absolutely not,” I said with conviction. I gave Avery a pointed look meant to convey the question: Have you skinny-dipped?
Laughing, she rubbed his arm. “He’s always trying to talk me into trying it.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing,” Fletcher assured us.
“Fish nibbling at things I don’t want them nibbling at,” Jeremy said.
I loved that he considered all the ramifications of his actions. Which was one of the reasons he’d make a good lawyer. And one of the reasons that he hadn’t quite landed safely on second base yet. He put his hands under my shirt, but he never moved past my lower ribs. Limiting temptation and showing respect for me.
That’s how he had explained it the night I thought we’d be going further, possibly even all the way. I’d told my mom that I was sleeping over at Avery’s and instead had spent the entire night with Jeremy. We’d checked into a motel at the edge of town, walked into our room, and watched a roach crawl across the wall.
“This is not what I want for our first time,” he’d told me.
It hadn’t been what I wanted, either. We were both virgins . . . and too broke to afford anything nicer. So we’d left, driven to the lake, spent the night in his car talking about what our first time would be like. And he’d told
me that he had too much respect for me not to make sure that it was special. That he knew I loved him and we didn’t have to have sex to prove that.
I knew our first time was going to be awesome, but until then, all I could do was admire his control. I always knew exactly where we stood, what to expect. No surprises.
Although as my mom was fond of saying: “Life without surprises is kind of boring.”
“Never found fish to be an issue,” Fletcher said now, bringing my thoughts back to the present.
“You’ve really gone skinny-dipping?” I asked.
Fletcher lifted a broad shoulder, moved a saltshaker to the center of the table for no apparent reason. “Sure. You should try it sometime. Seriously.”
I stared at the shaker he’d abandoned, moved it back where it belonged, before answering in a way that wouldn’t make me seem like a prude. “We’ll think about it. Now what do we want to eat?”
Avery and I told the guys what we wanted. They headed to the counter to place our orders. Leaning forward, I held Avery’s blue gaze. “Don’t take this wrong, but I’m still having a difficult time seeing you two together.”
“Maybe you need glasses,” she said, a teasing tone to her voice.
“What?”
“If you can’t see us.”
Avery only responded to the literal meaning of what I said when she was bothered by what I was trying to say, so I knew I’d hit on something that upset her. I probably wasn’t the only one who thought she and Fletcher were an odd match. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” I assured her. “It’s just that you’re so opposite.”
“Not as much as you think. But that’s what makes it fun.”
I looked toward the counter. I’d never seen Fletcher in anything except a black T-shirt that looked like it had shrunk in the wash. Even after our session in the car, Jeremy’s light-blue shirt was barely wrinkled. “Do you think we’re boring?”
“What? No.” Avery touched my arm, brought my attention back to her. “What brought that on?”
“You’ve gone skinny-dipping, haven’t you?”
“No.” She took a sugar packet and tapped it repeatedly as though she was trying to stir up her answer. “Although I probably will before summer’s over—or maybe once Fletcher and I get to Austin.”
“You’ve changed since you got together with him,” I said.
“A little, I guess. Don’t you think you’ve changed since you started dating Jeremy?”
“Not really. We’re the same as we were when it was just the three of us hanging together.”
“You’re cute together.”
Inwardly I cringed. “Cute” sounded like we were in elementary school or something.
Two girls got in the line and immediately started talking to Fletcher. His shadowed jaw made him look older, more dangerous. He’d always drawn girls’ attention. Jeremy, who had shaved before he picked me up, stood there trying not to look awkward, because they were ignoring him.
“What’s wrong?” Avery asked.
“Those girls.” I bit on my lower lip. “It’s stupid, but it bothers me that they aren’t talking to Jeremy. Like maybe they don’t think they could be into him.” I shook my head. “See, that is so shallow and stupid. I don’t want to be jealous, but I wouldn’t mind if girls were jealous of me.” Because if they were, then I’d know that they knew I had a terrific guy. I didn’t know why I needed that validation.
“I was,” Avery said quickly. “Jealous of you. Before I had Fletcher. I know that’s awful because you’re my best friend, but for a long time I wished that Jeremy had wanted to be my boyfriend instead of yours. I mean, the three of us hung out together. What was wrong with me that he didn’t choose me?”
“Nothing was wrong with you,” I reassured her. Then I added, “But I didn’t know you wanted him for a boyfriend.”
“Now I can see that we wouldn’t have been right together, but I would have said yes in a heartbeat if he’d asked me out. He’s so nice.”
He was nice. But was he too nice?
The guys returned to the table. Avery dropped that bag of sugar. I snatched it up and placed it back into its holder, noticed a yellow packet mixed in with the blue ones, plucked it out, and inserted it in its proper place. Then I smiled at Jeremy—a little guiltily because we’d been talking about him—as he set a cheeseburger and shake in front of me, and a basket of fries between us.
“Thanks.” He knew exactly how I liked my burger and he didn’t mind ordering it medium well, with a slice of cheese on top and a slice on the bottom, pickle, and tomato that wasn’t from the ends. Mustard on the bottom of the bun, mayo on the top, and the B. S. special sauce on top of the mayo. My mom always made me order my own burger. She was embarrassed that I couldn’t just order a burger by calling out a number or saying all the way. But I was particular. What was wrong with that? I knew what I wanted.
Avery and Fletcher had cheeseburgers, too, but they were sharing a basket of onion rings. I carefully unwrapped my burger, peered beneath the top bun to see everything exactly as I liked it, and bit into it.
“So . . .” Avery said as she dipped an onion ring into ketchup. “You know Dot, the owner of the Shrimp Hut?”
The Shrimp Hut was the restaurant on the beach where Avery worked on the weekends. “Yeah,” I said.
“Her mom is having some surgery so she’s going to be out of town for a few days next week and she asked me to house-sit, take care of her cat and dogs. The cool thing is, her house is on the beach. It has three bedrooms, and she said I could have company. Interested in joining us?”
Us? I looked at her, shifted my gaze to Fletcher, back to her. “The two of you?”
Grinning, she nodded.
“Your parents are okay with this?” I asked, stunned. Her dad was a cop who kept a pretty tight rein on things.
“I’m leaving for college in six weeks. They know they need to trust me. I’m officially curfew-less. They want me to let them know when I’ll be home, but they know there is nothing I’m going to do right now that I won’t do at college.” She shrugged. “They’re letting me grow up.”
My mom hadn’t given me a curfew in a while but I didn’t know if she’d approve if she knew Jeremy was going to be there. I suppose I didn’t have to tell her that he’d be there, although I’d felt so guilty about lying to her before that I’d confessed about our botched romantic night. Mom had just laughed and said, “Karma’s a bitch.” Now Karma was giving us a second chance with a bedroom on the beach. I couldn’t hide my excitement about that as I looked at Jeremy. “What do you think?”
“Up to you.”
He was always such a gentleman. Clearly he didn’t want to push me into anything and would let it be my decision. Although I did wish I heard a little more enthusiasm in his voice. “Could be loads of fun. I just don’t know if I can swing it with my mom.”
“There’s nothing you could do there that you can’t do just as easily out by the lake,” Fletcher pointed out.
I grimaced. “I don’t exactly tell her we go to the lake. But you’re right. I’ll talk to her.”
“Great!” Avery said. “We’ll have a blast. It’ll probably be two or three nights. Dot’s still working out the details. I’ll let you know when I have them.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Beneath the table, I squeezed Jeremy’s hand. We were getting an all-night-alone-in-a-bedroom-together do-over. This time I was determined we would round second base and head to third. I could hardly wait.
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About the Author
Photo cred
it Kayla Marie Photography
RACHEL HAWTHORNE believes in happy endings and adopting older rescue dogs. She also writes as New York Times bestselling author Lorraine Heath and as J. A. London with her son, Alex. She lives near Dallas, Texas, with her husband and is presently spoiling a pooch named Jake.
www.rachelhawthorne.net
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Books by Rachel Hawthorne
Caribbean Cruising
Island Girls (and Boys)
Love on the Lifts
Thrill Ride
The Boyfriend League
Snowed In
Labor of Love
Suite Dreams
Trouble from the Start
The Boyfriend Project
One Perfect Summer
The Dark Guardian series
Moonlight
Full Moon
Dark of the Moon
Shadow of the Moon
Credits
Cover art © 2015 by Citizen Stock
Cover design by Steve Scott
Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
TROUBLE FROM THE START. Copyright © 2015 by Jan Nowasky. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.epicreads.com
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014950611
ISBN 978-0-06-233071-0 (pbk.)
EPub Edition © March 2015 ISBN 9780062330727
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