Page 44 of Just Friends

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “But not like that.”

He holds my gaze in the dark, the brown glinting gold, winking with refracting starlight.

Finally, he asks, “Can I have my clothes?”

Now that he’s mentioned them, they’re hot coals, burning the palms of my hands. I shove the wad against his chest, my fingers brushing against smooth, velvety skin covering hard, unyielding muscle.

I spin around as he bends down, pulling the shorts over his legs. This moment feels like a lit match, waiting to lap at gasoline and go up in flames.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest, and my blood thrums in my ears, drowning out the sounds of fabric rustling and the hose being turned off. Then we’re only left with crickets. Literally and figuratively.

“I could use a drink right about now,” Alex whispers, and it cuts through the tension, making my shoulders ease and loosen where they’re propped against the side of the house.

I swivel, keeping one shoulder against the siding, and my eyes trail down his form. The shorts ride low on his hips, and that worn tee stretches across his shoulder blades. It’s much more comfortable to look at him like this, if not less exciting. All that bare skin was making those confusing butterflies take flight again.

“There’s homemade apple juice in the fridge.”

The smile he gives me is a slow curl of his lips, and I feel it down to the tips of my bare, dirty toes. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“I know,” I say, the corners of my own mouth hitching up. “But it’s the best around. Come on.”

Earlymorningsunlightglittersthrough the white linen curtains, and the smell of cooking bacon wafts down the hall. My chest is bare, the shirt Hazel brought me last night lying in a wrinkled heap next to the trundle.

I sit up slowly so the mattress doesn’t creak and allow my gaze to travel over Hazel’s sleeping form. Her caramel hair is draped across the floral-printed pillowcase, looking like spun silk in the dappled light from the windows. Her lips are parted slightly, and she looks so young like this, like she hasn’t changed at all from that girl in the yearbook photos, that my desire to pummel all those boys who treated her badly returns with a searing bolt through my chest.

She doesn’t stir as I stand, tugging the worn gray tee back over my shoulders, and let myself out of her bedroom. Things feltdifferentbetween us last night, like a page was turning in our story, and I’m scared to see how she’s going to react in the light of day. I don’t want to be there if she wakes up and regrets those lines starting to blur between us with flirty remarks and lingering touches.

The wooden floorboards creak beneath my weight as I make my way down the hall and around the corner, the scent of cooking breakfast getting stronger the closer I get to the kitchen. Stevie is at the stove, her long, silky black hair tied in a knot on top of her head.

“Morning,” she says when she sees me, lines crinkling around her eyes. Her smile is a slash of white against the dark tan of her skin.

“Morning. Where is everyone?” I ask, looking around the kitchen.

She flips the bacon in the skillet with her spatula. “The farm and store are always crazy busy during Trail Days, but Aunt Ava wanted you guys to have a lazy morning, since apparently, you and Hazel were up so late last night,” she says, eyebrows arching high on her forehead.

I palm the back of my heating neck. “How’d she know that?”

Stevie chuckles. It’s a little deep, a little raspy, just like her voice. She throws me a look over her shoulder. “Aunt Ava knowseverything.”

“That’s terrifying.” I lean a hip against the counter.

“Imagine trying to keep things from her in high school. We never got away with anything.”

My lips quirk. “I can’t imagine. I got away with everything.”

The crackling of the bacon quiets as Stevie uses tongs to lift it from the cast iron and onto a chipped plate lined with a folded paper towel. “Uncle Silas may have been shocked to hear about Hazel streaking through the cemetery, but Aunt Ava definitely was not.” She turns to face me after pulling the last slice of bacon from the pan, her mouth curving into a smile. “It’s how she also knows that you’re in love with Hazel.”

I swivel around to make sure the hall is clear before turning wide eyes on Stevie. When her smile only grows at my lack of denial, I slide my hands down the plane of my face, my palms barely muffling my groan.

“Am I really that obvious?”

She sucks her lips behind her teeth, not managing to contain her grin. “Only to those of us with eyes.”

I sag against the counter, my heart beating in my throat.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Stevie says, voice softening, the mirth dissipating.

“I guess,” I say. “But it’s only a matter of time, right? You’re not the first person to corner me about this.”

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