Shiloh’s hand flew to her mouth. “Jesus…”
“My dad did that,” I said. “His blood is in my veins. I’m his son. Stints in juvie. Fights. The rage of it all… How fucked up he was… That’s in me. And the very last fucking thing I want to do is bring that ugliness to you.”
Her hand dropped, her face soft. “I don’t see anything ugly in you, Ronan. I see someone who protects his friends from bullying assholes, calls out rapists… Someone who walks in the rain to make sure that the dummy who won’t answer her phone is okay.”
Christ, if she knew I walked every night to make sure she was okay…
She cocked her head, still trying for tough while the soft vulnerability in her eyes bled through. “Well?”
I got to my feet, towered over her. “No one can know,” I said. “If we do this, no one can know at school. It may seem fucking stupid, but I need that, Shiloh. At least for a little while. Until after graduation, maybe.”
She smirked but her breath was turning fluttery. “I told you, I’m okay with that. This is like a do-over. We’ll keep things…”
“Casual?”
“That word just doesn’t stick. But I can’t make any promises, either. This is all new to me and I’m scared I’ll fuck it up.” She cast her gaze down. “I don’t want to hurt you either.”
No one had said anything like that to me before. No girl had ever stood in front of me and bared her soul like Shiloh. Or given a shit about my feelings. Because I’d never let myself have any.
She heaved a breath, her hands sliding up my chest, her fingers toying with the pendant. “So how about no labels? No rules. We’ll just do our best and maybe land somewhere between you coming to my house in the rain and me answering your texts.” She raised her eyes to mine, dark and rich. “Sound good?”
There wasn’t a word for what I felt in that moment. Not one I recognized. All I could do was nod, my hands going around her waist, holding tight. That’s what you did with good and precious things. You held them tight and took care of them. I could do that. I could keep her safe and have her too.
“That sounds good,” I said and bent to kiss her. Softly. My eyes falling shut, savoring the taste of her.
Don’t fuck this up. Jesus, God, don’t let me fuck this up.
She moved in closer, molding to my chest. I could feel her heart and it was beating fast. She smiled against my lips.
“Something funny?” I asked, my hands roaming her back, soft and warm, her hair brushing my wrists.
“Not funny. Just good. Today’s lightyears from yesterday when I was at the hospital visiting Violet. It feels like a lifetime ago.”
“What happened?”
“She had a crash at soccer practice. Concussion.”
“Is she okay?”
“She’s okay. Miller’s with her now.”
“About time.”
“Agree, but those two are giving me an ulcer. Literally hours before, River Whitmore asked Violet to Prom. As friends. And Violet said yes.”
“Doesn’t mean anything,” I said. “If Miller’s with Violet now, he won’t let her slip away again.”
I won’t let you slip away again, either.
“I just wonder what River’s endgame is.”
“River asked her to Prom as a friend, right?” I shrugged. “Maybe that’s what he needs. A friend.” I held her tighter. “And maybe it’s none of our fucking business.”
Shiloh smiled. “Good answer.”
Now we were pressed together, my forehead to hers, breathing her in, inhaling her scent.
“We’re doing this now?” she asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
I nodded and lifted her onto the table. Her lips parted in a little gasp, her eyes never leaving mine as her fingers trailed up my arms. She spread her legs, bringing me in, holding me tight to her as I bent her over the table.
“Ronan,” Shiloh breathed, kissing my chin, my lower lip, my upper. “Is this when you make me come?”
The words went off like a flare in me. I crushed my mouth to hers, my hand in her braids, holding her in my kiss. Devouring her. Shiloh moaned and kissed me back, just as ravenous and ready. I wanted to crawl on top of the table and take her, but a whiff of clove cigarettes and expensive cologne infiltrated my red haze of desire.
I stood up. The window showed no one, but reality flooded in like a sobering slap to the face. Casual or not, Shiloh deserved better than a splintery table in an old fisherman’s shack that was splattered with gull shit and seaweed. Where Holden or Miller could walk in on us at any time.
“Come on.” I offered Shiloh my hand, helping her off the table.
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know. Out. Are you hungry?”
She arched a brow. “Are you taking me on a date?”
“Maybe. You want to? Or is that against the rules?”
She looked like she was going to clap back with something smartass. Instead, her smile softened. “I could eat.”
“Good.” I realized I hadn’t been on an actual date with a girl since…ever. All my “dates” had been sex in rough places. Drunken hookups. Quick fixes. Shiloh was not that.
“But where to?” she asked as we left the Shack and walked the path along the coast. “Not downtown Santa Cruz, I presume.”
“Not downtown. Any ideas?”
“Yes, actually. Ever been to Scott’s Valley?”
“I haven’t been anywhere that’s not in walking distance from my place.”
“Ever have Thai food?”
“Also, no.” I helped Shiloh over a good-sized boulder.
“Unacceptable.” She jumped off the rock, the ocean water washing over her sandals as she stood on tiptoe to kiss me. “Stick with me, Wentz. I’ll take care of you.”
Scott’s Valley was a little town tucked into the redwoods, just north of Santa Cruz—built on rolling hills with views of the forest in every direction. Shiloh maneuvered her Buick into a parking space on the main drag next to an art gallery.
“The restaurant I’m thinking of is on the other side of town,” she told me as we climbed out. “But it’s turning into a beautiful night. I thought we could walk.”
I nodded and marveled as her hand slipped into mine. We walked as the sun dipped behind the trees and I could almost pretend I was a regular guy, living a normal life, going on a date with his girlfriend.
Slow the fuck down. She said no labels.
Still. The moment felt fucking good and I let myself have it.
“You come up here a lot?” I asked as we passed shops and restaurants.
“Bibi and I used to come once a month or so. I’ve been so busy preparing for my shop, it’s been a while.”
“How’s that going?” I asked. It seemed strange to think of her opening a business straight out of high school but if anyone could do it, it was this girl.
“It’s in a holding pattern,” she said. “I’ve applied for all the permits and licenses and now I’m just waiting to hear back. But that’s not the worst of it. If I get the licenses, the next step is a meeting with a bank for a small business loan. Which should be fun since I have no collateral to speak of and it’ll be a cold day in hell before I let Bibi put up the house.”