it wasn’t the same.”
“No? You didn’t have fun? You didn’t laugh? You didn’t wish for a single second that we had that cordial Rachel used to swipe from her cellar and some hot dogs on that fire? Not once?”
He found himself laughing again. “Yeah, you’ve got me there.” Sean exhaled heavily. “I’ve laughed more with you this evening than I have in a long time.”
“Well, you’ve got to do that for yourself now and again. Self-care, bro.” She elbowed him lightly.
“Yeah, a prescription of two doses of Kentucky Lee for what ails ya?” Damn, why had he said that? Because it was exactly what he’d been thinking, and she deserved better than that. He’d punched Robbie Carter in the face for saying something similar in cruder terms when they were sophomores.
Instead of taking offense, she just laughed. Not the kind of laugh that was false, or hiding some kind pain, but a genuine belly laugh. “Sure. Why not? It’s the first time I’ve ever been someone’s cure instead of their disease.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t see anyone lined up waiting for you to hand them that particular prescription.”
“Once upon a time, there was a boy named Robbie Carter—”
She groaned. “Don’t remind me. That’s so embarrassing.”
“You know?” He turned on his side to look at her.
“Wait, know what?” Her brown eyes narrowed. “Besides he didn’t show to pick me up for Winter Royalty. Didn’t call. Never spoke to me again.”
“He thought you were the cure, so to speak.”
“Funny way of showing it.”
“Eric and I didn’t care for the way he talked about you in the locker room.”
She pushed at his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“He talked about how he was guaranteed to get in your pants at Royalty. He called you a slut, so I punched him.”
“Once?”
“Repeatedly. Then Eric hit him. Then the rest of the team told him if he said one more word about you, they’d leave nothing left of him but a grease stain on the floor.”
“Those guys never gave a damn about me. Why would they do that?”
“They cared about what Eric and I cared about. That was enough.”
She sighed and flopped back on the grass. “Well, you could’ve told me he wasn’t coming.”
“We didn’t want him to bail. We just wanted him to treat you with respect.”
“My knights in shining armor, trying to keep me celibate since tenth grade.”
“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you really wanted your first time to be with Robbie Carter.” They’d moved into dangerous territory, he knew. This wasn’t something they should be talking about.
“Well, I did just want to get it over with. I definitely didn’t want to be trite and wait until prom.”
“So who was it?”
“You wouldn’t know him. He lives in Canada.”
“Don’t go Sixteen Candles on me. Come on. I’ll tell you mine.”
“Yours was Lynnie. At Winter Royalty.” She rolled her eyes, but then she smiled. “She told me all about how magical and special it was.”
“Was it?” Those words punched him in the gut. “I’m glad.”
“Wasn’t it for you?”
“Of course it was. Then eight months later she broke up with me.”
“Because she knew you were the one. She wanted to make sure neither of you ever had any regrets.”
“I’ll be honest—all of my junior year, I thought I was dying. I dated other girls, but there was only Lynnie.” Only Lynnie, until he became someone else. Until his job changed him. Or maybe it unearthed who he really was, deep down in his bones. Because even though he saw horrible things, he made a difference. He loved what he did. He wished that the world didn’t need people like him, but as long as it did, he’d be there in the thick of it.
“Enough about me. You already knew that. Answer my question.” He searched her face. “Unless you really don’t want to.”
“So you’re telling me the state of my virginity and nonvirginity has been a burning question plaguing you since high school?” She smirked.
“What if it has?” What was he doing? This had gone past the boundaries of their friendship. He could lie to himself and say that friends shared these details all the time, but that wasn’t what this was. Not for him.
Especially because he knew not for her either.
She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jason Carter.”
“Robbie’s brother?”
“I was so pissed at him that I went to his house. Jason was home from KU for winter break. He took me out to dinner and we ended up having sex in the back of his Mustang outside Paisano’s.”
He’d admit, he kind of hated Jason in that moment. He didn’t expect to feel angry. He pushed the thoughts aside.
“Should I punch him next time I see him?” He tried to retreat, to lighten the mood.
“No, he punched himself. He married Angie Rhem.”
She was super high-maintenance, and with a mean streak wider than Stranger Creek.
They laughed and then fell into that silence that seemed to keep sneaking up on them. At first it had been companionable, comfortable. Maybe even peaceful.
But now there was something between them. Something heavy and electric. Their gazes met and held, soldered together. Neither of them able or willing to break the moment.
Her lips parted, pink and soft, as she drew in tiny sharp puffs of air. The firelight cast a warm glow over them and he could see her eyes, wide dark pools he could drown in.
Sean Dryden had always believed himself to be a good guy and at this moment, if he’d been a “good guy,” he’d have said something.
We shouldn’t.
No, we can’t.
This isn’t right.
But he didn’t say anything. He waited for the moment to bloom, to become whatever it was meant to be.
She reached out tentative fingers and cupped his cheek.
It was the lightest, gentlest
