Page 69 of Finding Delaware

Taylor shrugs a shoulder. “Ask Logan yourself.”

Fucking bet.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I tap my messages and see Logan is still the last person I texted.

Me: Are you dating Salem???

Logan: ...where did you hear that?

Why do I even ask. Taylor, right?

Me: Is ittrue?

Logan: God, he’s such an asshole.

Look, I was going to tell you at lunch tomorrow.

Was even planning on bringing her with me.

Maisie, Dad, and Taylor are conversing about something, but I don’t pay attention. I’m fucking pissed. Betrayed. I’ve told him about every single relationship I’ve been in. Although I didn’t go into details, he always knew what was happening in my life.

Me: And this isn’t something you could have mentioned over the hundreds of calls and FaceTimes we’ve done? Really?

Logan: It’s a conversation I wanted to have in person because I knew you’d freak out.

Me: Oh in person, when? All the times I asked you to visit me and you made excuses?

My skin prickles with a rising tension from whatever Dad and Taylor discuss, but I can’t focus on that right now because I’mlivid.

Logan: You weren’t exactly coming out here to visit me either, Huck. Let’s talk about this all tomorrow, yeah?

I won’t even bring Salem, it can just be you and me.

But keep this on the DL. My parents don’t exactly approve of her, so that’s why we’ve been hiding it.

Me: Yeah, well so much for that. Taylor just dropped the bomb in front of my dad and Maisie during afternoon lunch. I’m sure your dad’s gonna get a call soon.

Logan: ...fucking hell.

Maisie’s raised, irritated voice brings me back to the conversation. “Really, Taylor, that’s just poor manners.”

“Manners?” Taylor scoffs, and my head snaps up to re-familiarize myself with my surroundings. “I wasn’t taught those, remember? You can take the boy out of the trailer, but you can’t take the trailer out of the boy, right?”

He’s leveling a glare at my dad, who drops his gaze, and Maisie looks beyond pissed.

Shit, what did I miss?

“What just happened?” I ask, frowning as I bounce my gaze between all three.

No one responds, and Taylor exhales sharply before reaching up to take off his hat and run a hand through his hair. The action causes his jacket to ride up, revealing a smooth patch of pale skin above the waistband of his jeans. I catch a muscled V and a dark trail of hair leading down before he lowers his arms again.

“I’m going to load up my bike,” he mutters, turning toward the door. His hand closes around the handle before he glances back at me over his shoulder, meeting my baffled gaze. “It was nice seeing you, Huck. You look good.”

And with that, he’s gone.

What the hell?

You look good?

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