Page 47 of Finding Delaware

Jesus, it feels like we’re getting divorced, and he’s taking the baby.

Taylor searches my face before dropping his gaze. Scuffing the ground with a toe of his Docs, he looks up from beneath his lashes. “I mean, I guess we could...share custody or something. Switch off every weekend.”

Hope has me perking up, but I tamp it down immediately.

The offer feels like an olive branch, but that would mean seeing him at least once a week, and I don’t think I can handle that. Instead of spending the last four months trying to process the shit that’s happened between us, I’ve been busy burying it. And having him here now in front of me, looking like some sexy punk-rock motocross god, is blurring the lines that we already crossed in December. The lines I redrew the momenthe stole my car. Because he used me, and it’s clear that he’s not ready to handle what’s been happening between us, either.

Nothing can change history.

“No, it’s fine,” I find myself saying, even though my tongue feels raw forming the words. “She’s been crying at your door for months, anyway. You’re her person.”

He nods, licking his bottom lip. “You gonna be racing next week?”

Feeling lightheaded, I hum a confirmation as I soak up the sight of him, searching for anything else that might be new while he seems to do the same. The urge to step into him and reacquaint myself with his mouth comes on strong, forcing my fists to clench, and I have to fold my arms to hide how badly they’re shaking.

Eventually, Lasagna screams from his bag, breaking whatever daze we’d found ourselves in.

“Good luck, Huck,” he whispers before wheeling his bike away. His shoulder brushes mine, sending an involuntary shiver through me, and before I know what I’m doing, my hand is gripped around his arm, pulling him toward me. I don’t care that we’re in the middle of the driveway in broad daylight—I need to kiss him. At least just once, even if it’s the last time.

Even if it’s to say goodbye to whatever this is between us. Just one kiss, and then we can go back to the fucked up way we were before.

But right before our mouths collide, he’s snarling in my face.

“Why the fuck did you tell the cops that I borrowed your car?”

Taylor

Huck blinks rapidly at me for several seconds, his face inches from mine as the grip on my arm loosens in shock.

“What?”

I tried to hold it all in—I really did. Even went as far as scoping the place out before entering the house to ensure no one was home becauseI did not want this to happen.

But then Logan pulled up with Huckslee in the passenger seat, and the moment he stepped out of that car looking cute as fuck in his oversized coat, I only saw rage. And hurt.

I wanted us to part on somewhat stable ground, but I know Huckslee. The way his eyes hyper-focused on my lips told me everything. So the minute he grabbed me, I knew. I fucking knew he was going to try to kiss me, and if I let him? It would be all over for me.

After four months of radio silence, that shit ain’t flying.

“Why,” I spit through clenched teeth. “Did you. Tell the cops. That I borrowed your car?”

He rears back, baring his teeth. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“Dead serious.” Yanking my arm from his grasp, I step back to put some much-needed space between us. “Why the hell would you lie to the cops, dude? You know how much trouble you could have gotten into for that?”

“Me? I did it to save your ass, motherfucker!”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

Those dark, starry eyes widen as he scoffs. “You’re an ungrateful piece of shit, you know that?”

His words lack the normal bite I’m used to, like he’s holding back, and it only fuels my fire.

“At least I own it, Huckslee.” My leg swings over the seat of my bike as I seethe at him. “I don’t pretend to be something I’m not.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He goes still, pupils dilating in quiet rage.

A mirthless laugh pushes past my lips. “Mister football star, with his good grades and his charming smile. But it’s all bullshit. I know what’s really underneath. You’re a fucking fake.”

---