Page 107 of All Your Pucking Secrets

Echo’s expression softens, and she drops back onto her side and cuddles against me. “I’ve explained everything to her. She knows why you did what you did. I’m sure it will be fine.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I mean, she’s been polite so far, but we also haven’t come face to face.

I clutch Echo tighter, unwilling to let her go. I’m far less sure about whether her mom will be willing to forgive and forget than she is. If I had to watch someone I cared about get treated like shit, I sure as hell wouldn’t be rushing to forgive anyone.

“I’m going to make pancakes for breakfast,” Echo says, kissing my cheek and then slipping out of bed. “Take a nice, hot shower to ease your muscles and by the time you’re done, they’ll be ready.”

“I can help,” I protest.

She arches her eyebrow. “I’d rather you put liniment on all of your bruises.”

“Fine.” Warmth fills me. I never thought I’d find someone who cares for me like she does. God knows I don’t deserve it, but I’m greedy and I’m going to take her anyway.

I shower, and then we share pancakes. Hers are drenched in maple syrup and chocolate sauce, while mine are accompanied by blueberries and caramelized bananas. Based on the texture, I suspect she added a scoop of protein powder, and I somehow doubt she did the same to hers.

I love it. She’s so thoughtful.

After breakfast, she showers while I pack my bag. Hers is already ready to go because she packed enough to get through the away game, a night here, and the visit to her mom’s, knowing she wouldn’t be back at her dorm for a few days.

When she emerges from the bathroom, her hair damp around her shoulders with only a towel on, I scarcely remember to breathe. It’s like every time she leaves the room, I’m terrified that I’ve imagined the whole thing—or that she’ll come to her senses and run.

I wrap my arms around her, entwining my hands against the small of her back and touching my forehead to hers. “You have no idea how stunning you are.”

“And you, Tyler Kinsey, are far too charming. Let me get dressed. We have places to be.”

Reluctantly, I release her, although it’s a struggle to keep my distance when she strips off the towel. With gritted teeth, I focus on adding the last few things to my bag and zipping it shut. When I return my gaze to her, she’s dressed in jeans and a bra, and is in the process of choosing a shirt from her bag.

Once she’s fully dressed, we carry our bags to my Audi, which we agreed to take since it’s less likely to break down on us halfway there.

I drive and Echo sits in the passenger seat, the window down and classical music streaming from her phone. Violins and pianos aren’t my thing, but I don’t dislike the music either, and I love how relaxed it makes her. It isn’t often that she lets go of all tension and just exists.

But as we draw closer to Charlesville, she grows stiffer, and eventually, she turns off the music.

ECHO

At the beginning of our road trip, my heart was light, but as we drive into Charlesville, my soul grows heavier.

I rarely come back here. I don’t like the way the town makes me feel, or the memories that haunt me while I’m visiting. Too many ghosts exist here for me to be happy.

I direct Tyler to my mom’s place. She lives in the same small, single-story house I grew up in, although the paint is no longer peeling. The garden outside is neat, in contrast to how it used to be. Mom has taken up gardening in her free time.

“Are you okay?” Tyler asks as he parks outside.

I stare out the window at the cheerful yellow porch, with its cane chair near the stairs, and force myself to nod. He takes my hand and squeezes it.

The front door opens and Mom races out, her ponytail bouncing as she jogs over to greet us. She’s smiling widely, and there are more gray streaks in her hair than the last time I saw her.

I catch her in a hug and bury my face against the side of her head, breathing in the unfamiliar scent of hair spray rather than the citrus aroma she used to carry. She must have been in the salon today. She cut down her cleaning hours after I left home and has been working toward an apprenticeship.

I’m so proud of her.

“I love you, Mom.”

She doesn’t let me go. “I love you too, my beautiful Echo. I missed you so much.”

I hug her back, not caring that most people would have separated by now. We aren’t most people, and that’s okay.

When Mom finally steps back, I reach for Tyler, grab his hand, and drag him forward.

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