He clears his throat, and my eyes meet his, my cheeks boiling over with the heat of embarrassment. He just caught me staring. And not just staring, but drinking him in.

I avert my gaze at once and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.

When I look back, hoping he won’t call me out on what just happened, he holds up the fabric in his hands, nodding his head toward the shirt in mine. “It’s clean, I promise.”

“Right.” I pat the material against my face, and his familiar scent hits me all at once. Fresh, like laundry detergent andsoap, plus a mixture of something citrusy like bergamot and something else that’s entirely male. Entirely him.

As I slide the fabric down across my skin, it’s hard not to imagine it’s him, that he’s the one touching me. Especially with his scent invading my senses, his gaze now drilling into me as if in payback for the way I stared at him. We’re too close here, too alone. I try not to think about the times, not so different from now, that we spent together in his truck. The times when I couldn’t keep every inch of my skin from his.

When I check the mirror, the ghosts of those memories have painted themselves in scarlet across my neck and chest. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

I chance another look at him, just once, and he shifts his gaze away from me—guilty, perhaps?I turn back to my mirror, scraping the water off more than absorbing it with the T-shirt before drying my phone’s screen.

When I’m as dry as I can get—which isn’t saying much—I follow his lead by wadding the shirt into a ball and tossing it into the back seat. He turns the heat up, pointing the vents in my direction with a chuckle he fails to hide.

“What’s funny?” I demand, though it feels pointless to ask. He’s clearly going to call me out on what I’ve been thinking about. He’s always been able to read me like that.

“You look like a drowned rat,” he says pointedly.

Oh.“Well, you look like a wet golden retriever.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be golden?” His eyes meet mine and several lifetimes pass, neither of us saying a word, though I desperately want to. I just don’t know what I would say.

I never thought I’d be in this position—soaking wet, sitting just inches away from Garrett again, having all his attention to myself.

Before I can work up the nerve to say anything, he blinks—moment over—and turns away. He checks his dark hair in themirror as I feel the moment fizzling out like carbonation under my skin.

He closes his visor just as we’re both distracted by a tow truck pulling into the parking lot. We are alone no more. Just like that.

“There’s Mark. Give me your keys.” He holds out his hand as the truck stops in front of us, and Mark Summers steps out and jogs through the rain, waving a hand over his head. Like Garrett, he has grown up well—I can’t believe we’re all adults now—and his kind smile is as familiar and warm as ever. He appears at the window, a black rain hood pulled up over his blond hair.

Mark has always reminded me so much of Will—pure sunshine in a bottle.

Garrett rolls down the window as Mark gives me a lopsided grin.

“Tessa Becker.” He drawls my name, his eyes trailing the drenched outline of my body. “When Will said you were back in town, I thought he was pulling my leg.”

“My brother?” I tease. “Never.”

He tilts his chin upward as Garrett puts the keys into his palm with a little too much force. “Don’t worry about the car. Just a little flat. It doesn’t look like the rim is bent or anything. ’Course, I’ll get a better look at it in the shop. Either way, we’ll get you fixed up, good as new.” He pauses, his eyes flicking from the car to me. “Maybe I’ll bring it by once it’s fixed, and I could take you to dinner? Will said you’re staying at his place.”

“Alright, Romeo,” Garrett cuts in before I can answer, “why don’t you just get the car fixed and try to play loverboy when my truck isn’t getting drenched in the process?” To emphasize his point, he brushes a handful of water off the plastic piece of the door just inside the window.

“Fair enough. See you guys later.” Mark backs up with a beaming smile before waving and returning to his truck. Garrett rolls the window up. We wait as Mark backs the tow truck upin front of my car, but when he’s done and back out in the rain, he gives us a thumbs up, and Garrett waves at him again before pulling away.

For a while, the ride is silent, and I’m not sure if we’re supposed to be pretending this is all very normal, or admitting that it’s not. It’s not like I haven’t ridden in a vehicle with Garrett. As my brother’s best friend, I’ve ridden in his truck more times than I can count.

Just not since everything went wrong.

“Thank you for coming to my rescue, by the way. I can’t remember if I already said that.” I pick at the skin next to my thumbnail for something to do.

“Come on, now.” He gives me a look that says I should know better. “Of course I came to get you.”

“I know, I just…I didn’t expect Will to call you. I thought he was calling a mechanic. If he’d told me…”

“What? You’d have said no? You needed a ride, too. Not just the car picked up. Unless you were hoping to ride with Mark.” There’s an edge to his tone, even with the joke.

“You caught me.” My hands go up in mock surrender. “Foiled my plan.”