Page 78 of Meet Me at Midnight

“You?” I guffaw. “Are you kidding? I don’t usually show guys pictures of me during that braces with a short, layered bob phase from eighth grade, and you saw it live and in full Technicolor.”

“You were still cute.” His smile is delectable enough to eat, but his words annoy a glower out of me.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I question on a scoff.

“You were!” he insists. “In, like, a young Justin Bieber kind of way.”

“Good grief,” I groan, dropping my face into my hands. The waiter sets a plate on the spot directly in front of me, and my eyebrows draw together in confusion. I wait for him to step away and then lean in toward Beau to whisper. “Um…I don’t remember ordering.”

Beau smiles. “I preplanned everything when I made the special request for the room. I hope you don’t mind. I made sure not to include any avocado or shellfish.”

“Thanks.” My mouth curls up at the corners. “I mean, the shellfish thing could kill me, so that was definitely a good move, but the avocado is just slimy.”

“Yeah.” Beau’s eyes dance with amusement. “I remember.”

“You really know a lot about me already, huh?”

“I do.” Beau leans forward to grasp my hands. “But I want to know more.”

Me too, Beau. Me too.

Avery and I dance and sing to each other as a group of our friends from U of M dance around us on the boat they rented for the day. The speakers pump music throughout the entire bay, and people on their patios wave as we drive by.

This is the most I’ve let loose since this summer, and I have to admit, even if I normally fight it, it feels good.

Another week has passed by, and my secret romance with Beau is still aflame.

I’m talking hot, scalding, third-degree burns if it touches your skin kind of blazing chemistry. We message on Midnighta lot.I sneak into his condo, after Avery falls asleep,a lot.And when we’re at work, he finds the most surprising ways to steal a kiss or a secret touch.

But sneaking around with him isn’t easy, and with work getting busier and busier, Avery and I hardly have any time to hang out together. So, tonight, this outing together was much needed. Pretty much mandatory, even.

The last thing I want to do is give Avery the shaft because I’m too busy sneaking around with her brother. Hell, the fact that I’m even hiding anything from her at all is a tough pill to swallow.

Some days, I can put it out of my head and focus on why I’m doing it in the first place. But other days, it’s hard keeping something as big as this from my best friend, the girl who is a sister to me in all the ways besides blood.

Kristin, one of Avery’s sorority sisters and good friends, grabs her hand to drag her to the onboard bar, and Avery looks back at me. “Come on, June!” she yells. “Do a shot with us!”

I follow dutifully, figuringwhy the hell not, and buck up to the bar right beside them. Avery excitedly wraps an arm around my elbow, and the movement makes me wobble a little on my heels.

“Gahhh, Junebug!” Avery exclaims—right in my face. “It is sooo good to see you letting loose. I swear you went and became a whole-ass adult on me for some reason.”

I roll my eyes on a laugh. “Probably because weareadults.”

“Pshhht,” Avery replies. “I refuse to believe that.”

“Yeah.” A very unladylike snort escapes my nose. “We can tell.”

She waggles her eyebrows as the bartender hands over our shots of vodka, and I toss it back with a cringe. It burns as it runs down my throat, but by and large, it actually tastes good. I kind of forgot how good I was at this in college.

“Hell yes!” Avery cheers, clinking her empty glass with mine before grabbing them and setting them back on the bar. She drags me back to the makeshift dance floor up on the bow, and we dance so much my head swims.

Repeating the routine, we take two more shots before I need to sit down to take a breather. Avery laughs at me and calls me a lightweight before disappearing back into the crowd withKristin, and I take out my phone, a small curve of my mouth loosening my expression along with my inhibitions.

I pull up my Midnight chat with Beau and start typing.

ElizaBeth: What happs, Mr. Man? You missin me or whats?.

I see the spinning wheel indicate he’s typing and wait for his message. It comes quickly, and I can practically see his serious face on the other side all the way from here.

---