Page 100 of Rebel Summer

“I expected more bars on the windows.” I leaned forward to take in the cozy home. “Are you sure this is your house?”

He leaned across me and pointed. “See that window on the second floor?”

“Yeah.”

“I used to sneak out of there at night. The tree next to it provided the perfect ladder.”

“So your house was just a cover for your clandestine activities. That makes much more sense.”

“Exactly. Pretty sure my twin bed and Spiderman sheets haven’t changed since I left.”

I paused while taking in that delicious tidbit. “Does that mean you slept in Spiderman sheets when you were in high school?”

He blinked. A hint of smile played across his lips before he stepped out of the cart. “Not one word, Books.”

“So, the whole time we were in biology together, you were going home to snuggle up in your superhero sheets?” I asked out loud, walking toward the door, absolutely adoring the visual that gave me. “That’s gonna cost you a few hours—at least. And that’s being generous.”

His low chuckle met my ears as his arm slung across my shoulders on the walk up. “That tattoo has done a number on you.”

I breathed out a laugh, hoping he was done touching me, while at the same time praying he wasn’t. We were standing on the front walkway leading to his parents’ house. We shouldn’t have been touching. As if he suddenly remembered our conversation the night before, he released me.

I had almost sent Dax a message tonight, canceling on him before he picked me up. But I couldn't send the message. I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to say no. But I also couldn’t see how this wouldn’t go down in flames.

“Hey, you two!”

Trudy stood in the doorway, waving us closer. She wore white slacks, a pink floral top, and dangly gold necklaces. I could see bits of her son in her rich, coffee-colored eyes.

“Hey, honey,” she said, pulling him into a hug. Dax stiffened for a moment before he slowly wrapped his arms around her.

“Ivy, I’m so glad you could come.” She gathered me into a soft embrace, the friendliness of her manners making me miss my own mother.

“Thanks for having me,” I told her. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” she said, patting Dax’s cheeks. “My two boys are here. What more could I want?”

She ushered us both inside an expansive home that smelled of warm bread and cinnamon. Trudy chatted with Dax as she led us farther into the house—Dax’s childhood home. Along the way, we passed picture frames filled with images of smiling faces of three little boys building forts and younger versions of Trudy and her husband in front of the Disney World sign. A child version of Dax outside in a yard, with dark hair and a dirty tank top, bursting with gnarly teeth and a grin that wasn’t unlike the one he’d given me earlier on the drive over. He had his arm extended as far up as it would go, wrapped around a taller, light-haired boy wearing a smile that was nearly identical.

What more could she want?

I was willing to guess.

She led us past the kitchen decorated in whites and natural woods to the deck out back. Mark Miller stood tall at the barbecue grill, looking like a golfer in his khaki shorts and a tucked-in pastel polo shirt. He couldn’t have dressed more differently from Dax if he tried. Dax’s younger brother, Trent, stood at the grill with Mark, the pair laughing over something as we stepped out onto the deck. Compared to his lean and tall family, Trent was shorter with the build of a football player. He wore cargo shorts and a tank top and upon seeing his brother, an excited grin.

He whooped before running over and grabbing Dax by the waist to lift him up in a brotherly version of romance. Despite himself, Dax laughed and, after a moment, hugged him back.

Trudy beamed at her sons, a glossy sheen in her eyes. But I couldn’t seem to ease my mind, knowing what I knew about Mason. Was she thinking of him now? Missing him at this moment? Or had enough time passed that she didn’t mourn his absence at every occasion anymore? Was there a callus now where there used to be an open wound?

Trent and Dax were now standing on the grass, catching up. Trent regaled Dax with a tale that involved animated hand gestures. Dax saw me watching and motioned me closer with a flick of his head.

“Oh, sorry! I forgot you brought a girl over.” Trent took me in, blocking the sun from his eyes. “Wait. Ivy?”

Soon, I was the one wrapped in one of Trent’s hugs, though it was much less romantic, thank goodness.

“How are you? I thought you were the one who ran into his shop?”

I smiled awkwardly. “Guilty.”

Dax’s dad came over and gave me a side hug. “Hey, glad to have you.”

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