Page 29 of Beachside Kisses With My Enemy

For a moment, we just stare. And then—so quick that I’m not sure it actually happened—his gaze flits down to my lips. Back to my eyes.

Now it’s his turn to clear his throat. Blake drops his hand. “Just…don’t do that.”

I move fully into the house. “Don’t do what?”

“Pretend like everything’s okay when it’s not.” He joins me inside and shuts the door firmly behind him.

Something deep inside me twists. “Everything is okay.” And frankly, the fact he thinks he has the right to give me any sort of advice or directive is just so…typical.

“Lucy.” He shakes his head at me. “You don’t always have to pretend to be upbeat and happy.”

The words trigger a memory, and my veins flood with heat. “I’m sorry if you find it annoying.”

His forehead scrunches. Clearly he doesn’t know what I’m referring to. Then again, I don’t think he ever knew I overheard his little talk with his dad that summer night before he left for college.

My seventeenth birthday.

Marilee and I had spent the morning celebrating with my family and were ending the day with a going away cookout for Blake. A bunch of his high school buddies were out back, tossing footballs and hanging out, and Blake’s parents and a few of their friends sat out by the firepit wiling away the hours, everyone chatting and laughing and eating an assortment of food cooked up by Mrs. Moffitt.

I’d gone inside for a refill on my lemonade…and found Blake standing at the counter alone, sipping from a red cup and staring at the living room. His brow was furrowed, and he looked a little lost.

To be honest, I felt a little lost too. We’d spent all summer together, though not much of it alone. I’d told him I’d miss him, and he promised to call me and Marilee when he could. To visit. But nothing more than that.

This might be my last chance to find out if he felt about me the way I did about him.

Squaring my shoulders, I sauntered toward him with a bright smile on my face. “Hey.”

The clouds left his eyes and Blake straightened. His frown melted into a smile. “Hey, yourself, Birthday Girl.”

“Hope I’m not interrupting your thoughts too much.” The huge white jug of lemonade sat on the counter on the other side of him, so I squeezed past and pushed the dispenser button to fill my cup.

“Nothing worth interrupting.”

“You sure?” I lifted the cup to my mouth and took a sip, soothing the dryness that was always there when I was in Blake’s presence. “You looked sad. Or something.”

“Good thing your sunshine is here to fix that.”

I felt my cheeks warm under his praise. “What’s wrong?” Maybe I shouldn’t go there, maybe I didn’t have a right to ask—but if I could offer him anything, it was a listening ear.

“I’m okay.” He placed his cup on the counter behind him and sighed, running a hand through his hair. His T-shirt sleeve pulled against his bicep, and heat filtered through me at the sight.

But it wasn’t just that he was the most attractive guy I knew. He was easy to talk to. Kind. He listened when I talked. I couldn’t help but want him.

But did he want me back?

Turning, I settled against the counter beside Blake, letting my shoulder press into his. “Doesn’t seem like you’re okay.”

“It’s just…I don’t know. Tomorrow’s a big day, you know?”

“Yeah.” A terrible one too. But I didn’t say that. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Sure. But I also…” He paused, and I looked up at him. He was staring down at me, what looked like conflict roiling in his gaze.

My palms itched, and I realized just how close we were standing. Without thinking, I turned my body slightly toward his. Maroon 5’s “Sugar” played in the backyard, but it was barely audible above the whoosh of blood pounding in my ears. “You also…what?” I managed.

His eyes bit into mine, like lasers with the ability to decimate. But there was something soft there, something I’d never seen when he looked at anyone else.

Was I imagining it? Was all of this just my high school delusions? A fantasy played out?

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