Page 80 of Come Break My Heart Again

I rub at a smudge of dirt above the door handle, attempting to ignore the prickle of awareness that tells me he’s still looking this way. I round the back, continuing to study the car, like this side looks any different from the one I just appraised.

“Can I drive it?”

“It doesn’t run, Lo.”

My insides start a new acrobatic routine as soon as the syllable leaves his mouth. “No one’s called me that in a while.”

“Good.”

The dark possessiveness in his voice sends shivers down my spine.

I swallow, my throat so dry that it makes no difference, then pop the driver’s door open. It smells like tobacco and old leather inside—a scent I associate with my grandfather’s study. The seat is cracked, worn, and surprisingly comfortable. I relax into it, running my index finger in circles around the steering wheel.

A creak is followed by a slam as Ryder climbs in next to me.

“Did you have fun at the pond?” I ask.

“Uh-huh.” He’s fiddling with the chair controls, a high-pitched squeak as it slides back and allows his long legs to stretch out.

“Surf sucked.”

Ryder barks a laugh as he shifts in his seat. “Yeah, it sure did.”

I glance down at my lap, rubbing my palms against my pink cotton dress. It tugs the fabric higher up my thighs. “So, Reese is a …”

There’s a pause, during which I’m too cowardly to look over. I focus on fixing my bunched dress instead.

“Friend.”

“Oh.” I find a stray thread on the hem of my dress’s skirt and tug at it.

She likes Ryder. That much was pretty obvious when she glared at me at the pond. But Ryder’s much harder to read.

“You jealous?”

Ryder doesn’t ask it like a taunt. It’s a genuine question, like he’s really wondering. Like he’s as uncertain of what we are as I am. And I don’t know why.Ididn’t abandonhimfreshman year with no warning and no explanation. He brokemyheart, not the other way around.

The thread snaps, and I watch the pink string fall into the footwell. “Why would I be? We were nothing.”

“We were nothing,” Ryder repeats, his tone flat. “Is that really what you think?”

“It’s whatyouthink.”

“No, I don’t.”

My teeth dig into my lower lip. “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’ve never lied to you, Lo.”

The air around me feels like it’s contracting. Turning tangible. I can feel this moment taking place like it’s a memory I’m already in possession of. Solidifying around me. I’ll lie awake later, replaying each word.

“Icouldn’ttell you I was leaving,” Ryder continues. “And I know that’s really shitty. If I could go back and …” He exhales. “Toward the end of freshman year, Cormac’s dad came back. He and I … we didn’t really get along. So, my mom decided to ship me south for the summer. A few months turned into a couple of years. And then it just …” His head tilts back, his hand lifting to rub across his face.

“You didn’t think you’d come back.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think I’d come back.”

He doesn’t elaborate on what changed, and I don’t ask.

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