“What? Why not? Because I won’t take an extra-long lunch and lie about it?”
I rolled my eyes, rubbing my arms so hard I was surprised sparks didn’t shoot off my skin. “Hardly. I have other plans.”
“Plans?”
“Yep.”
“Care to share what they are?”
I didn’t much like his amused, disbelieving tone, as if I was making the whole thing up to get him to give in to me or beg me to spend the evening with him or something.
“Sure,” I said, squirting a small amount of sunscreen onto my fingertips. “I’m hanging out with Colby.”
“Colby Bricker?”
Dotting the sunscreen on my face—chin, cheeks, nose and forehead—I nodded.
“You’re hanging out with Colby Bricker?” he repeated. “Tonight?”
“I’m not sure what part you’re having a problem with,” I said, rubbing the sunscreen in, “but the answer to both your questions is yes. I’m hanging out with Colby Bricker. And that hanging out is happening tonight.”
“Since when do you hang out with Colby Bricker?”
“Since now.”
Or, more accurately, since thirty seconds ago when I realized I couldn’t spend the evening with Sam. Not when my feelings were so confused, my thoughts twisted and tangled.
What I needed was space. Time to find a little clarity.
And what better way to ignore my confusing, twisted, tangled emotions for the boy in front of me than spending time with another guy?
“You don’t even know him,” Sam said, as if he knew everyone I was, and wasn’t, personally connected with.
Which, yeah, he did, but jeez. I can make new friends without him being part of the vetting process.
“Actually, we’ve been texting since we hung out at Ryan’s party last weekend. So I do know him.”
Sam turned and winged the apple core over the hill with enough force to have it landing in the middle of Main Street. “Blow him off.”
“What?”
“Text him and tell him you can’t hang out with him tonight.”
I raised my eyebrows. “That would by lying. And as you so helpfully pointed out a few minutes ago, lying is a no-no.”
His mouth thinned. He edged closer and there was a shift in the air, a change in the energy surrounding us, one that had goose bumps rising on my arms, apprehension climbing my spine.
One that had me wishing I’d never brought up Colby’s name.
“It won’t be a lie,” he said. “Tell him you’re with me.”
“It’s one Friday night. You’ll be fine without me. And now you can have pizza two weeks in a row.”
Watching me, he shook his head slowly. “No. Tell him you’re with me.”
There was something in his soft tone, in the gruffness of his voice that had me on edge. That left me breathless.
Tell him you’re with me.
With him as in…as in…him and me. Me and him. Together.
Not just friends but something…more.
Panic swept over me like a wave and I scurried back, needing to get as far away from Sam—his words and the intent in his eyes—as possible.
I stepped on a sharp stone, the pain making me gasp and stumble. Sam caught me, his fingers wrapping around my arms just above my elbows, and I knew there was no escape. No way to stop this.
Because he didn’t let go. Didn’t give me a there-you-go-pal pat on the shoulder.
He held on, his fingers tightening. He pulled me closer, tugging me ever so slowly, ever so steadily toward him, until my bare toes touched the tips of his work boots.
“You ever wonder?” he asked, the soft rumble of his voice vibrating through my body, the heady thrum of it settling low in my belly.
I stared at our feet, unable to look at him. Afraid of what I’d see in his eyes. More afraid of what he’d see in mine. “Wonder what?”
Without meaning to, my own tone matched his. Low. Husky. Thick with longing.
He heard it, he must have, because his hands slid up my arms. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be with me?”
My head snapped up, my eyes wide.
But he wasn’t done. Nope, rocking my world with that single question wasn’t enough for Sam Constable. Not nearly enough.
“Do you ever wonder,” he continued, watching his left hand as he skimmed it down my arm, those wonderful work-roughened fingers gliding across the sensitive skin of my inner forearm, past my wrist and scraping lightly against my palm, causing my fingers to twitch, “what it would be like to hold my hand?” He settled his hand on my waist, his thumb against my hip bone, fingers spread wide at my lower back. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to touch me?”
I trembled, my body instinctively answering when I couldn’t.
He inhaled sharply and widened his stance, drawing me between his legs. “Do you ever wonder,” he repeated, his voice going even softer, dark and seductive as he slid his other hand up to cup my head, his palm cradling the back of my scalp, his fingers delving into the hair just under my hat, tipping my face up as he lowered his, “what it would be like to kiss me?”
The air shuddering out of me, my gaze flicked to his mouth for one long second before I wrenched it back up to his eyes. “No.”
I didn’t give him the answer he wanted, but he already knew the truth. We’d both known it, had hidden from it, for six years.
Yes. Yes, I’d wondered what it would be like to be with him. Just as I knew he wondered, that he wanted to be with me in the same way. We were never meant to be just friends.
But it was all we could be. All I could give him.
And now that he’d brought it all out into the open, he wanted more. Sam would always want more.
“Don’t be scared,” he murmured, his breath brushing against my cheek. “I won’t hurt you.”
I shut my eyes against the sudden sting of tears. Of course he would hurt me. It was unavoidable now that he’d said too much, had changed things between us by touching me this way.
If I didn’t stop this, I was going to lose him.
Worse than that, I would hurt him.
“Sam…”
My words died in my throat, my hands going to his chest as he lowered his head, ducking under the brim of my hat before hesitating, his mouth inches from mine. Eyes open, breath held, I waited, the sound of my pulse beating in my ears, my body tight with tension until, finally, he brushed his mouth over mine.
He raised his head, just far enough to meet my eyes, his forehead bumping my hat. “Kiss me back, Hadley.”
I shouldn’t. It went against everything I needed to do to stop this madness from going any further. Would only make it that much harder for us to get past what had already happened, what had already been said.
But his voice was so quiet, his tone almost a plea. And when he lifted his hand to tug off my hat and toss it aside, his fingers were unsteady. Under my palms, his heart beat wildly, as did the pulse at the side of his neck.
He was nervous. Scared. Maybe as scared as I was, but he wasn’t going to let fear stop him from going after what he wanted. He was so much braver than me.
For once, he was reckless.
“Kiss me back,” he repeated in a whisper right before he settled his mouth against mine.