Summer Together

Part 2 of the Summer Series

Amy Sparling

Copyright © 2015 Amy Sparling

All rights reserved.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover art from shutterstock.com

Cover design by Amy Sparling

First edition February 10th, 2015

Chapter 1

So it happens like this. I am wearing a gorgeous bridesmaid gown. We’re talking a satin masterpiece that blows last year’s prom dress out of the water. It’s royal purple and sleeveless. The fabric wraps around the bodice and flows down to my ankles, fitting me so well you’d think I actually do have the perfect hourglass figure. My hair, now longer than it’s ever been, brown with highlights, has a light curl to it. It drapes over my shoulders. My long bangs are swooped to the right and tucked behind my ear, decorated with a sparkly rhinestone barrette.

I look amazing.

But I won’t hold a candle to my beautiful best friend Bayleigh and her stunning wedding dress. That’s exactly how it should be, though. This is her day. And I am so unbelievably happy for her.

The band plays a modern version of the traditional wedding song. They have guitars and harmonicas and banjos. Thanks to some stalking of their Facebook page, I know they recently signed with a small music label and should have an album out soon. Bayleigh, her future husband Jace, and I spent several hours scouring the internet and local coffee shops trying to find the perfect band for their wedding. Just like my gown, Bayleigh’s dress, and this backyard, I know we chose the perfect one.

The wedding is set up in the massive back yard of Jace’s late grandfather’s house. The house is a gorgeous Victorian and all the old oak trees make for a beautiful wedding scene. We’ve decorated with lights and purple and teal flowers. A white carpet makes up the aisle that separates the chairs for the wedding guests. I feel like my Maid of Honor duties have been executed perfectly because so far everything has gone according to plan. Well, almost everything. One of the members of the bridal party isn’t here, but that’s not because of a lack of trying on my part.

Jace’s best man, a guy with the name Park, had spent the last two weeks desperately trying to get here from his home in California. His truck and wallet were stolen, the DMV couldn’t be bothered to replace his driver’s license in time for him to get a plane ticket, and because he’s not yet twenty-five, he’s too young to rent a car. Bayleigh and I had arranged a secret surprise for Jace, wherein Park leased a new vehicle, drove nonstop for two days and got here just a few hours before the wedding. I’d stayed in contact with him via text message for the last twenty four hours. Unfortunately, there was a massive wreck in Houston involving three freaking semi-trucks and he didn’t think he’d make it. Maybe in time for the reception, he had said. So although that’s one epic failure in the wedding plans, at least Jace wasn’t aware that Park had come so close to being here so he wouldn’t be as disappointed as Bayleigh and I had been. And I guess there’s still hope that he’ll arrive soon and have time to party with us after the ceremony.

I’m standing at my place on the bride’s side of the altar, which is a white gazebo that is decorated with clear Christmas tree lights and I’m so excited for this wedding to happen that I think I might be vibrating just a little. I hold up my hand and look at it, at my newly manicured purple nails, and the silver band on my right index finger. It’s a simple ring with a Celtic design engraved on it, something I had found in my mom’s jewelry box years ago. I wore it so much she finally just let me keep it. Just as I had suspected, my hands are shaking. Maybe I should have eaten something before taking my place at the altar.

Wait…have I remembered to eat anything at all today?

To my left, Jace is stooped down to Bentley’s level, having a private conversation with him. Bentley is Bayleigh’s ring bearer and little brother. He’s holding the wooden ring box that Bayleigh and I made after finding an awesome tutorial online. He’s also bouncing up and down on his heels. Clearly, he’s as nervous-slash-excited as I am right now.

“Jace,” I whisper-yell across the space where the minister will be standing in a moment. “What time is it?”

He glances at his watch. “Five-fifty six.”

“Thanks,” I whisper, standing straight again. It’s only been three minutes since I last asked him the time. I bet time is moving even slower for Bayleigh, who is probably pacing back and forth in the hallway of the house, waiting to make her entrance.

I glance into the crowd, fifty chairs full of their friends and family. I only know the people on Bayleigh’s side, of course. Her mom’s new husband David sits in the front row and next to him is an empty chair. But as I’m watching, I see Bayleigh’s mom slip down the aisle and take her chair next to David. Their faces glow with pride. Aunt Truly and her husband, whose name I can’t remember, sit next to them. Some friends from school are here, along with Bayleigh’s cousins and their spouses. And then there’s my parents, sitting in the third row. Dad’s in his police officer uniform because he’s working night shift now and by the time he gets back to Lawson, it’ll be time for him to go to work. He’s just going to stay for the ceremony and then head out to catch bad guys. (Although he claims he does a whole lot more driving around than catching bad guys.)

Mom notices me looking at her and she gives me a little wave, her smile spreading across her whole face. I wave back. The band continues playing; restarting the song so flawlessly you hardly even notice it. The drummer is totally hot, but that he’s also probably ten years older than me so screw him. And I know I shouldn’t be thinking these things, but I can’t help it. I’ve been single for several months now that Braedon and I broke up and pretty much all I think about now is how badly I want a boyfriend. But not just any boyfriend. A real one. Something meaningful. Something that lasts.

What Braedon and I had was definitely a real relationship but…I don’t know. It felt too high school. We started out as friends and even when we were officially dating, we had always felt like friends. The friendship just evolved into a greater friendship. We didn’t have the passion, the spark that I desired. Braedon always laughed and shook his head when I’d mention something like that. He’d tell me that crazy rip-your-clothes-off passion only existed in the movies. He’d say people didn’t act like that in real life. Well, I disagreed. I’d seen Bayleigh and Jace act like that all the time. Well, not the ripping each other’s clothes off part. Fortunately, they kept that stuff to themselves.

When Braedon and I decided to break up, it was amiable and it was mutual. In fact, it was a little too mutual. I guess I had wanted him to miss me, to cry for me, to try and make things work. But he was going away for college and I was staying here, attending community college. And I had mentioned that infamous idea of passion so many times that I guess he just didn’t feel like it was worth it to try.

I still have his number saved in my phone, although all the little heart emoji have been removed. Now, he’s simply Braedon. Sometimes he’ll send me a funny picture and sometimes I’ll text him something funny that happened at C&C now that he doesn’t work there anymore. So, just like that, after months of dating, what started as friends has ended as friends.

I glance over at Jace and think about asking what time it is again, but it’s probably only been a minute or so since I last asked. As if reading my mind, he checks his watch and frowns. I continue to stare at him until he notices me. I lift an eyebrow. He mouths the words, six oh one.

She’s late. Should I go check on her? She could be missing a shoe or having a wardrobe malfunction and I’m not there to help her. But if I leave the gazebo then it might create a confusion among the guests…people might murmur and think something’s wrong. They’ll think she has cold feet, which I know she’ll never ever get. She loves Jace with all of her heart. Or, I could be halfway toward the house when she starts walking down the aisle and then I would have ruined everything. So I suck it up and stand straight, poised and smiling, because everything is okay and everything is going smoothly.

And then it finally does go smoothly. Bayleigh steps into view, her white lacey gown like a beautiful flower in contrast to the setting sun. Only we at the altar can see her at the moment because she emerges from the back of the house, behind all of the people sitting in the audience. The band starts the traditional wedding song, I think it’s called the wedding march but I really have no idea. I can’t believe how in all of our days spent planning a wedding, we never thought to figure out the name of that song.

Tears fill my eyes pretty much the second I see her. I know it’s silly of me to cry at my best friend’s wedding, but come on. This is so beautiful and so perfect. I hear Jace take in a breath and damn if that doesn’t make me tear up even more.

The guests rise in their chairs and turn to face her. I take this opportunity to dab at the corner of my eyes, hoping I don’t smudge my makeup.

“Oh my God…” Jace murmurs, almost as if he’s just heard a funny joke. I lift an eyebrow and look at him, but he’s staring straight ahead. His hand covers his mouth and he shakes his head, and he just stands like that, smiling and shaking his head like he’s in on some inside joke that no one else knows.

I follow his gaze toward Bayleigh. She’s making her way down the aisle, looking stunning and beautiful and so many more words that will never be enough to describe her, but that’s not what made Jace laugh. She isn’t walking alone. She’s walking arm-in-arm with a man wearing a tux just like Jace’s. He has a teal tie and a purple pocket square and a smirk on his face that can only mean one thing: This is Park and he finally arrived on time for the wedding. But that isn’t what makes my jaw drop.

My heart leaps into my throat as I focus on him. Tall, muscular, strawberry blond hair and blue, blue eyes. I can’t see the color of his eyes from here, but I’d recognize them anywhere. Park isn’t just some guy from California who I’ve only known for two days via secret phone conversations. His first name is Nolan. And he’s been floating around my daydreams for the last year.

Chapter 2

It was the start of summer before my senior year of high school. A little more than a year ago. I had just gotten a job at C&C BMX Park to cope with my boredom after Bayleigh’s reckless teenager actions pissed of her mom so much she got grounded and sent away to live with her grandparents all summer. The BMX park is an indoor park full of ramps and half pipes and even a foam pit for freestyle tricks. I’d never ridden a BMX bike in my life, but that didn’t deter me. Working there is a ton of fun and my boss is the most laid back guy around.

Not to mention the guys. Did I mention the guys? Sure, a ton of annoying little preteen boys stop by C&C to ride during summer break, and I’ve had to host more than a few birthday parties for bratty kids who can barely ride a bike at all, but it’s all worth it for the late crowd. The guys-my-age-crowd. The ripped guys with jagged hair and tattoos who can toss a bike around as if it’s an extension of their own body.

It was during one of those exquisite days at work where I was spending more time on the clock admiring the view than actually working, that I met Nolan Park for the first time. He had come in with his friend Dustin, a guy who frequents C&C just about every week. Nolan was kind, but quiet. He griped at Dustin for flirting with me when I clearly wasn’t interested. And then he rode off on his bike, stayed a few hours and left without another word.

I know, right? Totally the love-at-first-sight story you were expecting. I don’t know what it is about him, (besides maybe his gentlemanly manners and ridiculous good looks) but I could not get that man off my mind for weeks. Even after Braedon and I started dating, I would still get a little flutter in my stomach when a guy who even remotely resembled Nolan would walk through the double glass doors at work.

It was stupid. It is stupid. I shouldn’t allow myself to sink so low as to daydream about some guy I don’t even know. I should be better than that. But here I am, Maid of Honor at my best friend’s wedding, trying hard as hell to look at Bayleigh and only Bayleigh as the two of them walk up the aisle and step into the gazebo.

Bayleigh hands me her purple and teal rose bouquet. I wink at her and she winks back. This is it. This is her moment. Nolan takes Bayleigh’s hand and gives her to Jace, then hugs Jace and they whisper something to each other before he takes his place as the Best Man next to Jace. I swallow, which does nothing to soothe my now dry throat, and smile as if everything is completely okay. Nope, no psycho girl crushes reactivating over here. Just a regular Maid of Honor at a regular wedding, supporting her best friend in a regular, non-boy crazy way.

The mister talks and then the bride and groom say their vows, but I don’t really hear any of it. The whole ceremony is a blur. Twice I glimpse to the left and see Nolan, or Park, or whatever name he goes by. The first time he’s also looking at me, but his expression is unreadable. The second time, he’s looking out at the guests.

He doesn’t recognize me. Why would he? And why, oh why, is it making my chest ache to realize that I didn’t stick in his mind as much as he stuck in mine over the last year?  God, I am so stupid.

Luckily I snap back into reality just as the minister tells Jace he can kiss his bride. Jace slips his arms around her waist and pulls her toward him, kissing her like he’ll never get to kiss her ever again. I wipe a tear from my eye and join in on the applause for the happy new married couple. I give her back the bouquet and they head down the aisle as husband and wife.

With the ceremony over, I hope I can calm my speeding heartbeat, ignore the super handsome Best Man and at least try to have fun at the reception that immediately follows. Jace and I, along with Bayleigh’s mom and grandparents spent several days decorating the back yard with clear Christmas lights and rustic décor. There’s a dance floor set up next to the buffet and on the other side of that is the band. It’s a beautifully decorated area for the reception. There are at least fifty people here tonight, so it shouldn’t be a problem for me to slip into the crowd and mingle.

I head down and visit with my parents, who hug me for the millionth time and tell me again how pretty I look. You’d think I was the one getting married with how excited they are. I guess it’s just impossible for them to accept me in a dress when I spend all of my summers in cut off shorts and neon-colored C&C BMX shirts.

Bayleigh’s mom comes up and chats with my mom. Everyone’s smiling and taking and laughing and here I am, standing with the same happy smile on my face, but feeling anything but genuinely happy. My heartbeat has sped up into steady vibration and I’m certain it shows on my face. I take a deep breath and look around. I need a drink. I’m not even exactly sure what kind of drink, but it feels like I need one. Since the bride and groom aren’t legal to drink, there’s only a small selection of beer for the adults. Not that I would even think of drinking alcohol in front of my police officer father.

I make my way to the refreshments table and one of the caterers hands me a champagne glass of sparkling cider. I take a big sip of it and immediately regret it as the bubbles burn my throat. Bayleigh appears at the exact same moment I’m making this awful face from the sparkling cider.

Her perfectly manicured left eyebrow arches in response to my face. “You okay? Or did all my makeup sweat off, making me look like a troll?”

“No more troll-like than you always look,” I say, sticking out my tongue for good measure.

“I should kick your ass for that,” she says, taking a champagne glass for herself and swirling it around her hand all fancy-like. “But I am a married woman now, so I must behave like one.”

She takes one sip of her drink, makes the same face I had made and we burst into giggles. “So how does it feel?” I ask her, absentmindedly brushing a stray curl behind her shoulder. “Is it everything you hoped for?”

“It’s more than that,” she says, shaking her head. “It’s so much more. I can’t believe you and Jace pulled this off. I never even once suspected that we’d get married here, of all places.” She puts a hand to her chest and I can tell she’s holding back happy tears. “You and Jace are seriously the best friends I’ve ever had.”

Shit, now I’m holding back tears, too. “I love you, Bay.”

“I love you too, Becca. This night is so perfect. Even Park showed up on time. Jace is freaking psyched about it.” She glances out over the crowd of people and I follow her gaze to find the two men standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting excitedly to each other.

“Yeah, about that,” I say, letting out a deep breath. “Now that we got all of the sappy talk out of the way, I have something mega epic to tell you about and…well, I know it’s your day and I should keep my own drama to myself but—”

“Girl, are you kidding?” She says, grabbing my arm. “If there’s drama I want to know about it. Stat.”

I can’t believe how nervous I get knowing that I’m about to reveal my embarrassing secret. “So that guy Park? You know how I’ve been talking to him for the last few days so we could arrange for him to get here without Jace knowing?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, what about it?”

In a brief moment of doubt and panic, I glance back across the yard and focus on Jace and Park again. I need to get another look, make sure this guy is exactly who I think he is. I mean, it’s been a year since I last saw him…maybe it’s not the same guy. As if by magic or some kind of ironic intuition, Jace and Park look up at the exact same moment. Jace points toward us and says something that looks like there they are. But…I could be mistaken. He probably said there she is, meaning his wife. Why would he say they? Why would he mean Bayleigh and me? That doesn’t make any sense. Regardless, they start walking toward us, and in the few panicked seconds I have before they get within earshot, I glance over Park again and I know without a doubt that this is the same Nolan Park from a year ago.

There’s no way two people on this earth have the exact same gorgeous eyes. “Yeah, about Park,” I say, leaning in and talking quickly so they won’t hear. “Remember that guy I told you about who came into the BMX park and he was so freaking hot?”

Her eyes go wide. “No way. There’s no way.”

I nod. The guys are just a few feet away from us now. My eyes meet Park’s for a split second before I look away, choosing to stare at Bayleigh’s sparkly eyelids instead. “The very same,” I whisper. “I’ve been talking to him on the phone this whole time and I didn’t even know it.”

Her fingernails dig into my arm. “This is so amazing,” she says so quickly it sounds like one rushed word. Her eyes light up with mischief. “Go talk to him,” she says, nodding toward him. “Get your flirt on.”

“Are you kidding?” I hiss under my breath. “I’m not going to embarrass myself at your wedding.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t finish her thought because Jace slips into the conversation, wrapping both of his arms around her from behind. He nuzzles against her shoulder and kisses the crook of her neck. She squirms and grabs his hands, leaning into his embrace. “There you are,” she says, twisting back to kiss him. And just like that, she’s forgotten about our conversation from just a few seconds ago. She’s lost in the eyes of her new husband.

Whew.

Park watches them with a slight smile on his face. Not that I’m looking at Park long enough to know what he’s doing, of course. I only took a small glance his way and then I got really interested in looking at my fingernails. Yep. My fingernails. They appear to be the same color and same length as they were earlier tonight…so that’s good.

When I look back at my friends (and my massive crush) they’re involved in a conversation that started without me. “I’ve heard tons about you,” Bayleigh says. “Seriously, all Jace ever talks about is motocross and Park.”

That’s funny because all he ever talks about to me is Bayleigh and…well, Bayleigh.”

Bayleigh’s hand goes to her chest and her mouth falls open. “Awww,” she coos, bumping into Jace with her shoulder. “That’s so sweet.”

“Man, you can’t say that,” Jace says with a smile. “She’ll realize how much power she really has and I can’t let that happen.”

It goes on like this for a while. Two best friends talking about old times and the one girl who finally got one of them to settle down. I don’t really belong in this conversation, but I’m standing in the circle of the four of us, and suddenly walking away would be awkward. Almost as awkward as standing here without a damn thing to say.

I try to pop into the conversation by thinking of something clever to say at exactly the right moment, but the moment never comes and all clever thoughts evade me. I spend exactly all of the time looking right at Bayleigh and no one else because I can’t bear the idea of looking at Park and finding what I already know must be true: that he hasn’t even realized I exist.

And why would he? He’s from California. Bayleigh already told me about the California girls she saw when she visited Jace’s family and how they’re no match to us regular Texas girls. So yeah…I have more than enough reasons to drop the idea of ever talking to, crushing on, or hanging out with Park. It’s just not going to happen. He’s gorgeous and I’m…me.

“Hello!” Bayleigh’s hand waves in my face, followed by her sparkly eyes popping up in my field of vision. Startled out of my internal monologue, I jump. She laughs. “What?” I say, faking a smile the moment after I realize I’ve been standing here for God knows how long without answering whatever she just asked me.

“You alive in there?” Bayleigh asks. Though her question is thoughtful, she doesn’t look the least bit concerned for my wellbeing. In fact, I think she’s enjoying herself.

“I’m fine,” I say. “I was just…remembering something.”

She rolls her eyes. “Okay well you have to remember this too: I left a key in your makeup bag in the front room.”

“A key to what?” I ask. Bayleigh’s eyes bulge out of her head. “Seriously, Becca. He’s not even here anymore so you can stop daydreaming about him.”

I feel the blood rush into my cheeks but I shrug and act like I don’t really know what she’s talking about. In the middle of shrugging, I glance around to confirm what she just said. Yep. The boys aren’t even standing next to us anymore. Ugh. I managed to daydream myself out of one scene and into another without even realizing it.

“Sorry,” I say, letting out a sigh. “You’re right. I was daydreaming. But not in the way you think.”

“Then what way were you daydreaming? I’m pretty sure there’s only way to daydream.”

I shake my head. “I was thinking all the bad things that come with having a crush on Park and therefore I’ve decided to immediately end that crush before it goes too far.”

Bayleigh puts a hand on her hip. “Seriously? That’s lame.”

“It’s not lame. It’s practical.”

She shakes her head, per lips pursed together. “So about the key,” she says. “I put a key to my apartment in your makeup bag in the front room. So you can water the plants and get our mail and stuff.”

“Cool,” I say, remembering that she had asked me a few days ago if I minded stopping by their apartment once or a twice a week while they were on their three week honeymoon. “How often do the plants need watering?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “Jace always does it and he’s told me the watering schedule so many times that I’m too embarrassed to ask him again.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I say with a laugh. “What’s Jace going to say when he gets home and finds all the plants dead because I screwed up the watering schedule?”

She shrugs. “That sounds like your problem to me.”

I groan. “Some best friend you are!”

Her eyes light up mischievously. “If you want to stay on Jace’s good side, you should probably just go ask him yourself.”

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” I say, turning to find him in the crowd of wedding guests. “I’m not going to be a plant murderer because you suck at remembering how to take care of them.”

“That’s the spirit!” she calls after me as I leave her to an older woman who has been waiting patiently to talk to her.

When I find Jace, he’s talking with who I can only assume are his parents because he looks a lot like them. I wait for a break in their conversation before stepping in and asking to talk to him. I don’t have to wait long. As soon as I get there Jace is looking at his watch. “Sorry guys, I have to go,” he says, hugging both of his parents.

“What’s up?” he asks me.

“You’re leaving?” I ask, confused.

He nods. “Yeah, Bayleigh and I have to get to the airport soon or I’ll piss off my pilot.”

“Your life is amazing,” I say, shaking my head with the wonderment of it all. A private pilot to take them on their honeymoon. Seriously. Bayleigh’s life is completely perfect.

“Walk with me,” he says, as we make our way through the crowd and toward his new wife. “What’s up? You look worried.”

I laugh. “More like concerned. I need to know the plant watering schedule since Bayleigh…well, she got so busy talking to people that she didn’t have time to tell me.”

“You mean she forgot,” he says with a snort of laughter. “Sure, here’s the deal.”

He tells me about the plants near the window, the plant on their balcony and the one bonsai tree they keep in their bedroom. Apparently the bonsai only needs to be watered once every two weeks or so.

“Thanks for helping with all of this,” he says, gesturing to the wedding reception around us. “I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, it’s my pleasure,” I say. “Anything for my best friend.”

Bayleigh is all smiles when we finally find her standing near the band. “Look!” she says, holding up a plastic CD case. “The band gave me an early copy of their album. And they all signed it!”

“Awesome,” Jace says. “But we gotta go.”

“Already?” Bayleigh says, her eyes lighting up.

“Yup.” He wraps his arm around his bride and they head off into the sunset.

Well, it’s not exactly like that. They head off to the front yard and then go next to do where his truck is parked and then they head off into the sunset, leaving me alone at a wedding that I still have to stay and clean up.

Chapter 3

As much as I like to think I’m a sane and normal person, I really start to question that idea as the night goes on. The wedding guests are dancing, eating, drinking and enjoying themselves all around me, but I’m walking around in a blur after Bayleigh leaves. I know a lot of these people, but I don’t really want to talk to anyone. I kind of want to go home and stop thinking about Park and how he totally hasn’t even said hello to me yet. But that’s a three hour drive I’d really rather not think about right now. I’m already exhausted from the day’s events. Driving home late at night will be a nightmare.

I take a seat on one of the benches inside of the gazebo and smile pointlessly out at the rest of the back yard. One good thing about tonight is the cool breeze that keeps blowing through the trees, keeping me from sweating on this otherwise warm August day. Mom smiles at me from the dance floor where she’s slow dancing with Dad, and I smile back. It’s weird seeing them slow dancing. It’d be weird seeing them do any kind of dancing. I know my parents love each other, even after a million years of marriage, but it’s still weird. Mom tucks her cheek into Dad’s shoulder as they sway to the music. I look away.

A buzzing vibration on my leg scares the complete crap out of me for a few seconds until I realize the buzzing comes from my phone. Bayleigh and I had chosen this bridesmaid dress partly because out of the two purple gowns that were our favorites, this one had a hidden pocket that blended in with the lines of the dress.

“It’ll be good to keep your phone on you during the wedding so you can snap pictures!” Bayleigh had said.

“Uh, isn’t that what the photographer is for?” I had said, making her roll her eyes.

I slip my hand into the secret pocket and retrieve my cell phone. There’s a message from Bayleigh. I hate that when I click on my texts, the name right underneath hers is Park. Along with all the texts we’ve exchanged in the last few days. And now he won’t even talk to me.

Bayleigh: Still at the reception?

Me: Yup…

Bayleigh: You should take that house key and just crash at our apartment tonight so you don’t have to drive all the way back to Lawson.

Me: You sure?

Bayleigh: Yeah Jace insists on it.

Me: Cool. What are you up to?

Bayleigh: I’m flying in a freaking private jet, can you believe it??? OMGGG

I reply with a few smiley faces and try really hard not to be jealous. There’s no way I’ll ever land a guy who would treat me as well as Jace treats Bayleigh. I mean, I’m not even sure I can do the first part of landing a guy, much less find a guy and have him be one who treats me like a freaking princess. At this point, I’m not hard to please. I’d settle for a guy just noticing me.

My phone vibrates again and I look down, expecting to see an onslaught of smiley faces and hearts from my best friend. But her name isn’t on the new text message. Park is.

I feel my heart leap into my throat and my skin goes cold and clammy. We’re both at the wedding and he just texted me. Maybe that means he didn’t recognize me during the ceremony? Wait, that doesn’t make sense. He knew I was the maid of honor… I take a deep breath and read the stupid text.

Park: Hey there, gazebo girl.

I freeze. He knows who I am. He knows I’m sitting in the gazebo. And if he knows all of that then he sees me right now and he knows I just read his text. I close my eyes for a brief moment and compose myself. I will not let him know that I am freaking out on the inside. I will be cool. I will be C&C BMX employee cool.

Me: Glad you made it on time.

Park: It’s not that surprising…I had excellent directions.

He’s talking about the directions I gave him. Is he complimenting me? Exactly how long am I supposed to go on sitting in the same back yard as him, texting instead of having a real life conversation in person? I get bold and look up from my bench inside the gazebo. Almost instantly, my eyes meet his. He’s holding a beer bottle in one hand, cell phone in the other. He sees me staring and lifts his bottle in a hello.

I drop my gaze back to the phone.

Me: What’s wrong, California boy? Can’t come talk to me in person?

Okay that was bold. Way bolder than I usually get. Bayleigh would be proud. I, however, am terrified. I stare at the phone, waiting for some kind of smart-assed reply. A few seconds later, I hear the clomping of men’s shoes stepping up the gazebo stairs. Slowly, I look up.

And Park sits down right next to me. He smells amazing. He smells like…well, like men’s shampoo. But if you ask me, that’s the hottest smell on earth.

I smile apathetically and glance over at him. It’s a little dark under the gazebo’s roof, the only light coming from the many clear Christmas tree lights I worked so hard to string up this morning. Hopefully, it’ll be dark enough to hide the rapid beating of my chest.

He pockets his cell phone and takes a sip of his beer. I didn’t realize he was old enough to drink, but Jace is nearly twenty-one himself so I guess it makes sense that his best friend would be around the same age.

“Hello,” I say. I keep it light and friendly. He doesn’t need to know that I’m analyzing how much sexier he is under the glow of these lights than under the bright fluorescent BMX park lights. Nope. I’ll just keep that information to myself.

“Hi,” he says. “I was hoping to get here early enough to talk to you before the wedding.”

“But since you didn’t, you decided not to talk to me at all?”

His jaw drops as if I’ve just offended him and then he smiles and takes another sip of beer. “Well someone didn’t talk to me, either.”

“Because you didn’t talk to me!” Now I’m the one looking offended and he just laughs.

“I’m sorry, Becca.” Oh God, I love when he says my name. “Everything went so quickly, it was kind of a blur.”

I nod. “Yeah I get that. I’m sorry, too. I could have said hi, but, well I’ve been pretty busy.”

He lifts an eyebrow, making the silver rod in his ear piercing glint in the lights. “Really? I didn’t realize that walking around alone and then sitting on a bench by yourself was being busy.”

Instead of allowing him to see how utterly embarrassed I am that he knew I’ve been walking around like an idiot all night, I decide to take a different route. “You’ve been watching me?” I balk. “What a creeper.”

He shakes his head, slides a little closer to me on the bench. “No, I wasn’t being creepy. I was trying to find an opportunity to talk to you.”

“There were plenty of opportunities,” I say.

“Same goes to you.”

I shrug. “Maybe I just didn’t care.”

“Ouch, Becca.” He shakes his head and downs the rest of his beer. I may or may not watch the way his lips wrap around the bottle and wish that they were wrapped around mine instead.

He leans forward and sets the empty beer bottle on the wooden floor, then sits back up, somehow feeling closer than he was a moment before. “Look, okay, yeah I avoided you.”

Rejection and pain and every kind of hurtful feeling shatters through me when I hear him say that. “And why is that? I don’t bite. People actually like me. They think I’m nice.”

He smiles. “I’m sure you are nice.”

A moment of silence and then I just can’t take it anymore. “So are you going to tell me why you avoided me, or...?”

He draws in a deep breath, like it takes a ton of energy to say what he’s about to say.

And then my freaking mother walks up.

“Hey honey,” Mom says, glancing from me to Park and back. “We’re heading out. Dad’s got work and all.”

“Okay,” I say quickly, feeling the hot rush of blood pool in my cheeks. “See you later. Love you.”

“Will you be okay here?”

I nod. “Yes, Mom. I’m fine. Tell Dad bye.”

She glances at Park again and then smiles at me. “Okay, sweetie. Have fun.”

I try very hard not to melt into a puddle of embarrassment, slip through the floor boards and never resurface again. Luckily, she leaves and Dad doesn’t stop by which is really a blessing from everything holy because had Dad came up onto the gazebo, he would have no doubt glared at Park until the California boy burst into flames.

Once my parents are out of earshot, I turn back to Park and fold my arms over my chest. “Sorry about that. You were telling me why you avoided me like some kind of plague. Go on.”

“Hey now, it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

He lifts his hands in the air as if surrendering. “Okay but you’re going to think I’m an asshole.”

I lift an eyebrow. “I kind of already do.”

He gives me this sideways smile and even though he just implied that he’s an asshole, it makes him look even cuter than usual. “It’s just that…the second I saw you I had a freak out moment because you look really familiar.”

I lean back against the bench, arms still folded across my chest. “Oh, do I?”

He nods. Chews on his lip. “Yeah…like, very familiar. I’ve met you before. I didn’t realize it until I saw you, but I have. I know I have.”

I nod and keep my mouth shut, letting him attempt to dig himself out of the hole he has created. He runs a hand through his hair. “I just can’t remember where.”

“And that’s why you avoided me? Because we might be friends?”

“Because we might be enemies,” he says quickly. “Are we?”

“Okay, now I’m confused. Why would we be enemies? We only met once. Briefly, I might add.”

The relief on his face is crystal clear. “Ah, okay. So we didn’t…?”

“We didn’t what?” I ask, peering at him coyly. “I think I know what you’re talking about, but I want to hear you say it.”

His smile is confident now, cocky even. “We didn’t hook up? Make out? You didn’t give me your number and I forgot to call you back or anything?”

“Wow,” I say, shaking my head. “Are you seriously that much of a player that you can’t remember who you’ve dated?”

“Hey, I didn’t say date. I don’t date.”

I nod, sarcastically. “Right…”

Park practically leaps off the bench and heads toward the front of the gazebo. I think he’s leaving, but then he grabs another beer from a caterer and comes back to sit next to me. He takes a long drink from the bottle and then looks at me, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world now. “I don’t,” he says, taking another long drink. “I visit Texas a lot, but I wouldn’t date anyone here. Long distance crap isn’t my thing.”

“I’m starting to think dating in general isn’t your thing.”

He points a finger at me over his beer bottle. “Ding ding. Correct.”

I laugh, keeping up the charade that I am calm and collected and unaffected by this new knowledge of Park being a player. “Well, you can rest easy because we only met once and I barely remember it.”

“It’s killing me not knowing. Where did we meet?”

“Where do you think we met?” I’m enjoying this way too much. Maybe it’s because I’m finally talking to the guy I’ve had a crush on for a year. Or maybe it’s because I’m exhausted from a busy day.

“A party maybe? At a motocross track?” His eyebrows draw together as he watches me, taking in my features and trying to have them jog his memory. I can’t really be offended that he doesn’t remember where he met me. I’ve heard that he’s practically as famous as Jace is around the motocross community. I bet he meets tons of people.

“Close,” I say. “It was a track…but not motocross…”

His eyes light up, sparkling from the lights overhead. “You’re the C&C girl.”

I can’t even tell you how good it feels to have him remember me. Finally. I only had to give him a couple of hints…that has to mean something. (Trust me, I know how pathetic that sounds.) I nod slowly. “That’s me. I have a name. It’s Becca.”

Park leans a little closer as he says, “I know your name, Becca. I’ve known it all week.” His breath smells faintly of beer and it’s kind of hot. It’s definitely hotter when he drinks than when the guys I go to school with drink. Underage drinking, especially when my dad is a cop, is not something I find sexy. But a man who’s old enough to drink? I can get into that.

“I actually know you a little bit more than that,” he says, catching me off guard.

“What do you mean by that? I think I’ve only seen you once or twice at the track. Your name is how I remembered you. Park is…unusual.” Okay, so I’m lying. I only saw him exactly once, for exactly a few minutes, but he doesn’t need to know that. If his memory is foggy, then so is mine.

“I don’t know you, but I know of you. Dustin told me about your little encounter.”

“Huh?”

He shrugs. “Don’t worry, he kept the details to himself.”

“You’ll need to explain more than that,” I say. “I haven’t had any encounters with Dustin, other than signing him in at work. He’s been begging to add me on Facebook, but I always tell him no. The boy is kind of…crazy.”

Park lifts an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

I nod and this makes him lift the other eyebrow in surprise. “I’m gonna kill him. I can’t believe I fell for that.”

“Did he say we dated or something?”

“It’s cute how you keep using the word ‘date’,” he says, sliding his hand through his hair and letting it rest on the back of his neck. “He may have said something like that. I guess he was trying to brag about his womanizing skills by using a girl he knew I’d never see again. What a douche.”

“Wow,” I say, feeling a little embarrassed and proud. “I wonder how many other guys have pretended to hook up with me.”

Park stands up and finishes his beer in one gulp. “I’d imagine just about every guy you’ve ever met.”

I stand up as well. “What does that mean?”

“You don’t want to know.” He picks up his first empty beer bottle and holds both of them in one hand.  “Let’s go clean up this wedding. I’ve had a long day of driving. I’m ready to sleep.”

Chapter 4

My mom only freaks out a little bit when I tell her I’m crashing at Bayleigh’s apartment tonight instead of driving three hours home at midnight.

“Won’t you be scared to stay all by yourself?” she asks. I can practically see her standing in her bedroom at home, clutching the phone, desperately trying to stop her daughter from growing up.

“Mom, I’m not a baby. I can stay in an apartment by myself. It’s Jace and Bayleigh’s place. It’s not like it’s some creepy motel.”

“Okay but I don’t want you to get murdered.”

“I have a better chance of getting murdered if I’m driving home this late at night.”

She sighs. “I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right. Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“Call me as soon as you wake up in the morning.”

“I will.”

When we hang up the phone, I’m already at my destination. I had driven to Bayleigh’s apartment before I called her. I figured if she said no, then I’d have the argument that I was already here to try and win her over. Luckily, it didn’t come to that. While sitting in my car, I hook the spare house key onto my keychain. She hadn’t said she’d want her key back so I’m pretty sure I get to keep it. Plus I won’t lose it if it’s on my car keys.

The parking lot is a little scary when I walk from the guest parking lot toward their apartment building. I probably could have parked in Jace’s assigned spot, but since my car doesn’t have the apartment complex’s sticker in the window, I don’t want to risk getting fined. I let myself up the stairs and into the apartment.

I’ve been here so many times but it still feels a little weird now that I’m here alone. Like I’m intruding on their personal lives…which is crazy because they invited me. I’m allowed to be here. Which means I’m probably allowed to steal a Diet Coke from the fridge.

I turn on the television for some company and make a bed out of blankets and spare pillows on their couch in the living room. Once all of that is done, I brush my teeth, change into a pair of Bayleigh’s pajamas, leaving my bridesmaid dress draped over the chair in the corner of the living room.

I hate to admit that my mom might be right, but it kind of sucks being here all alone. As much as I’m dying to move out of my parent’s house and strike out on my own like Bayleigh and Jace, I’m not sure I could live in an apartment all by myself. And I certainly don’t see myself finding a boyfriend I’d ever want to live with—at least not any time soon. It kind of sucks being the only person in an apartment. It’s lonely in ways the television does not make up for.

I flip through the channels as I lie on the couch, cuddled up in a fleece throw I found in the hallway closet. Absolutely nothing worth watching is on television at one in the morning, and I end up wasting fifteen minutes just flipping channels. I yawn, and the exhaustion of the day starts to settle in my limbs. I should just go to sleep. But it’s hard sleeping when I feel so weird being the only person here. Maybe I should have just driven home. Or maybe I should, you know, grow up and stop being a baby about this.

With one last check of my phone, (there were no new messages) I turn off the television and close my eyes. Unfortunately, the moment the room goes dark, thoughts of Park come flying back into my mind like a hurricane. I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to relax my frazzled nerves.

When the sound of feet slogging up the stairs disturbs my dreams, I don’t move very much. Because at first I think I’m dreaming. Then a particularly heavy footstep breaks my half-asleep stupor and my eyes snap open.

Someone is walking up the stairs.

The outdoor stairway only goes to this apartment, so there is only one reason to walk up these stairs. The blood in my veins turns to ice as I leap off the couch, wide-eyed and terrified. Someone is coming up here. Best case, they’re going to break in because they think no one is home. Worst case…I’m dead. Oh my God. Oh no.

My fingers dig into the side of my hair as I frantically try to think of something to do. This isn’t like my house at home where there’s a back door I could slip out of and head for safety. There’s only one way out of this place and it’s through the door that—oh god—someone is trying to open.

The living room has absolutely nothing of use, save for a bridesmaid dress that might be fluffy enough to hide under, but there’s no way I could sit still that long while a robber tears through the house. The sound of metal sliding into the keyhole on the other side makes my palms sweat. The sound goes in and out again, and then the door jiggles. Whoever is out there must be trying to pick the lock.

Realizing that I should have called 911 like a million years ago, I grab my phone and run down the hall toward Jace and Bayleigh’s bedroom, where I close the door and fumble for the lock but this door doesn’t seem to have a lock. What kind of master bedroom door doesn’t have a lock? My shaking fingers press the button on my phone and to my freaking horror, the phone does nothing. The battery is dead.

The noises at the front door have gone silent, or at least it sounds like it from here. Maybe he gave up. My ears strain to listen for more footsteps, the sound of retreat, but everything is quiet. Dropping to the floor, I try to squeeze under their bed but there’s no room because Bayleigh has plastic storage tubs filling up the space. I try the closet next, and find a baseball bat propped up against the wall.

With a deep breath, I grab the bat, testing its weight in my hands.  I will fight back. I will defend myself. I’ll defend my friend’s possessions from being stolen.

Or maybe I’ll just hit him in the head as hard as I can and then run like hell.

The front door opens. I can hear the squeaky hinges. My entire body trembles as I make my way toward the bedroom door, standing on the opposite side of the door handle, baseball bat lifted and ready to strike. I swallow but my throat is so dry it hurts. Mom was right. I should have just gone home. I would do anything to be at home, lying in my own bed right now.

I draw in a deep breath and tighten my grip on the bat. A cell phone bursts to life and I nearly jump out of my skin at the unexpected noise. My phone is still dead so I know the sound didn’t come from this room. That’s when I hear the intruder’s feet walking across the living room, echoing the way footsteps do on a second-story floor. It’s his phone that’s ringing. Even though he just broke into an apartment, he answers it.

“Hello?” The bat nearly drops from my hand while I strain to listen to the one sided conversation from the other side of the door. “I just got in. Took me forever to get through the door.” There’s more words I can’t quite hear, so I step closer to the door, wanting to put my ear up against it but knowing I need to keep a hand on the bat and stay vigilant.

I hear him laugh as his heavy footsteps meander around the living room, probably looking for things to steal while he chats on the phone. My heart thuds like a jackhammer and the sound of my own terrified heartbeat blocks out most of the sounds from the other room. That is until I hear the words, “Is she here? I see her dress on the chair.”

I freeze. Am I the she this intruder is talking about? I don’t even have time to think about it because the footsteps are growing closer. Even with the baseball bat and the courage I had pretended to gather up into myself, I stand frozen on the inside of the room, unable to hide or fight or do anything as the footsteps come closer and closer. Now he is right outside of the door. He is so close I can hear him as if he were standing right next to me. I’m not sure what’s more frightening: that I recognize the voice of the intruder, or the fact that the next thing he says is, “Maybe she fell asleep in your room. I’ll check.”

The door swings open and I am face to face with Park.

This time, the baseball bat really does fall out of my hands.

Chapter 5

“She’s here,” he says into the phone. “I gotta go.” He ends the call and slips the phone into the pocket of his tuxedo. I am still standing here, still frozen, still unblinking. I think maybe I am in shock, or I am just so relieved that the intruder isn’t really an intruder and now I can’t think straight.

But in a really weird, really morbid and screwed up way, I’m kind of thinking an intruder might have been easier to deal with. I was ready for an intruder. I had a weapon. I had a plan. I was going to run. Now, the running away plan doesn’t seem so feasible.

Now, I am stuck in Bayleigh’s apartment with Park.

“What…um,” I say. I know. Smooth. I swallow and try again. “Why are you here? I thought you were an intruder.”

Park lets out a yawn, glancing down at the fallen baseball bat. “I can see that.”

My hands keep making fists and twisting around and then I play with the ring on my index finger as I shift on my feet. The last few minutes have had my heart beating like I’m running a marathon and suddenly I’m both full of energy and insanely tired. “Sorry,” I say but I’m not really sure why I’m apologizing—he’s the one who scared the crap out of me. “I wasn’t expecting you. You scared me.”

“Badly, I’m assuming.”

His amusement at my near heart attack really pisses me off. “What exactly are you doing here?” I snap, finding the strength to put my shaking hands on my hips. “Does Jace know you broke into his house?”

“I didn’t break in.” He reaches into his pocket and retrieves a key that looks a lot like mine. “I have permission to be here.”

With a huff of indignation, I grab the bat off the floor and take it back to where I found it in the closet. “Well no one told me you were coming over here. If Jace had thought to let me know that fact, then I would have just gone home instead. So, sorry.”

I don’t know why I’m so angry about this. It’s as if my overabundance of fear has manifested itself into pure anger. I sigh and Park yawns again. “It really sounded like you were breaking in, you know. Do you have any clue how a key is supposed to work?”

He laughs. “This key was brand new so I guess it doesn’t fit very well into the lock. I had to wiggle it like crazy to get it work.”

My heart is still pounding, although if it’s from being scared or the new fact that I’m once again talking to my old crush, I’m not sure. “My key worked fine,” I say. “I guess they just like me better so they gave me the better key.”

He nods, running a hand through his hair. I can tell he’s trying to stifle another yawn. “Probably. I wasn’t even supposed to come here. I drove to a hotel for the night and then my damn credit card was declined. Apparently taking an impromptu trip across the country, buying a ton of shit along the way and then trying to get a hotel triggers the theft protection. They froze my card for and have to mail me a new one.”

“That sucks.” Ugh, I’m so lame. I don’t know why I just said that. Luckily, Park doesn’t seem to notice.

“I called Jace and he told me to crash over here.”

“Bayleigh also told me to stay here,” I say. “Looks like they didn’t coordinate.”

He glances around the room. “It’s cool, I’ll take the couch.” Without warning, his hand touches my arm, just for a second before he slowly pulls away. “I’m sorry I scared you. I’m exhausted. This has been a ridiculous day and I kind of just want to sleep.”

“It’s fine, but I already have the couch claimed.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “So? I’ll take the couch. You take the bed, it’ll be way more comfortable.”

I hesitate, glancing toward my best friend and her husband’s bed. Wouldn’t it be weird to sleep on it when they…well…you know? As if reading my mind, Park ducks into the closet and emerges a moment later with a fresh set of sheets. “I’ll help you change them,” he says, yanking the comforter off the bed in one swift motion.

“I can do it,” I say, trying to help but finding myself suddenly useless as he takes off the old sheets and begins putting on the new ones.

“Helping is the least I can do after scaring you so badly you look like a ghost,” he says, smiling to himself.

“I don’t look like a ghost,” I say a little too defensively. My arms cross and I stand there, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Maybe you should look in the mirror,” he says with a wink. He leans forward and stretches a sheet over the bed, then lifts the comforter back into position with a big whip of it from the foot end of the bed. When the comforter settles into place, he gestures toward the newly made bed with his hand. “Goodnight,” he says. He walks around me and slips out of the room, making the room suddenly seem too large. I wasn’t done talking to him, but I can’t exactly bring him back in here.

And how exactly am I supposed to sleep, knowing the most gorgeous guy ever is sleeping on the couch in the other room that’s just a few feet away? It was hard enough going to work every day last summer wondering if he’d stop by again when he never did. Yet each day I had held onto hope that he might return. And now, there he is. Nolan Park in the flesh. In the living room. On the couch.

Sleeping.

I pull back the sheets and slip into the bed, feeling a weird mixture of super exhausted and wide awake. From the kitchen, I can hear the refrigerator open and then close. A few moments later, Park calls out from the other room, “Oh sweet, the couch is already made into a bed for me. Thanks, Becca!” And then, another part spoken softer. I’m not sure if I am even supposed to hear it. Maybe he thinks I’m already asleep.

“Damn, this pillow smells amazing.”

That’s the pillow I had been lying on before he showed up. Maybe it’s the scent of my perfume or my shampoo that he smells, but the pillow was clean before I laid on it, so that only means one thing. He thinks I smell good. No, not good...amazing.

Chapter 6

I wake up at what is probably very early in the morning, but my phone is dead and the people who live in this apartment have two night stands on either side of the bed but no digital clocks to tell me what time it is. I roll over in my friend’s sheets, frowning as I look at Bayleigh’s nightstand. There’s a book, a tube of lip gloss, and a cord, but no clock.

And then I feel like a huge idiot. That cord is Bayleigh’s phone charger and we have the same type of phone. In my mad dash to charge my phone, I jump out of the bed so quickly I get tangled up in the sheets and almost bust my face on the floor. But I don’t have time to feel like an idiot because I’m too excited to finally have my portal to the world charged up again.

I kneel on the floor next to the bed, holding my phone like a dying baby bird as I wait for it to power up. When it does, an influx of text messages fills the screen. It’s eight-thirty in the morning and I am just now seeing all of the messages Bayleigh had meant for me to see last night.

Bayleigh: Yeah so don’t kill me, but Jace just told Park he can crash at our place since his credit card got declined and he can’t get a hotel.

Bayleigh: You know what that means, right?

Bayleigh: IT MEANS NO HOOKING UP IN MY BED!!

Bayleigh: (just kidding...kind of)

Bayleigh: Hello! You’re not mad at me, are you?

Bayleigh: I’m on a plane right now. Maybe I’m just not getting your texts?

Bayleigh: I love you BECCA. DON’T BE MAD AT ME PLZ.

I could have saved myself so much embarrassment if I had gotten these messages when she sent him. I would have had a warning before Park showed up. I could have fixed my makeup, chosen cuter pajamas from Bayleigh’s closet. I could have been sitting casually on the couch, drinking a cup of hot chocolate when he showed up. I definitely would not have been clutching a baseball bat like a moron when he first saw me. I roll my eyes and leave the phone to charge on the nightstand while I raid Bayleigh’s closet again for something cute to wear.

I choose a pair of her jeans that cost more money than I make all month working at C&C. They have a pair of rhinestone-decorated wings embroidered on the back pockets. I used to make fun of her for spending obscene amounts of money on just a dumb pair of jeans, but once I’m inside of them, buttoning the top button and staring at my ass in the mirror on her closet door, I wish I could take back all of my mockery and jokes. These jeans are amazing. I don’t care if I have to work overtime for months, I will save up and buy myself a pair of these magical jeans.

For now though, these are all mine. At least until Bayleigh gets back. With jeans this amazing, it really doesn’t matter what shirt I wear, but I take a long time going through my best friend’s closet anyhow. I’m trying to stall for time because I don’t want to leave this room. Of course, I’ve had to pee ever since I woke up, so I won’t be able to hold out much longer.

My phone beeps. My mom may be a little overprotective, but there’s no way she’d text me so early in the morning just to make sure I’m still alive, so that only means that Bayleigh is texting me, which is really weird because it’s early in the morning and it’s the first day of her honeymoon. Texting me should be the absolute last thing on her mind.

I’m thinking of a sarcastic comment to tell her when I walk over and check my phone. But all of my witty replies are worthless because it isn’t from Bayleigh.

Park: Wake up. I’m hungry.

Ugh, I can’t believe I’m smiling. His text was careless at best and rudely demanding at worst. Who says stuff like that? He doesn’t know me well enough to tell me to wake up. He could at least say please. But I’m smiling anyhow. Like a complete idiot.

I stare at the text and then set my phone back on the night stand. I’m hungry, too and I have to pee, but Park can wait a little bit. The world doesn’t revolve around him.

Back in the closet, I feel a sudden pressure to choose the best possible shirt. Should I go low cut and cleavage-bearing? Or tank top with a sheer long-sleeved shirt? Maybe one of Bayleigh’s motocross shirts with a logo that Park would recognize since he’s also a motocross guy.

Deep down, a part of me knows I’m being completely insane. In the whole scheme of things, as far as my life and my future and the entire universe that continues to exist outside of me and my stupid problems, I know it doesn’t really matter what I wear or say or do today. Park is just some guy who lives two thousand miles away and has his whole life that does not involve me. But even when my brain urges to me to just shut up and be myself and stop freaking out over what I look like and how I act, my heart still wants me to try. To just try and see what happens.

So I take the pink shirt with the Fox head logo and I fluff my hair in the mirror, and then tie it back in a cute but messy bun. Without taking a shower, there’s no way my hair can stay down today since it has leftover hairspray and glitter from last night. And yeah, I should take a shower, but showering while Park is in the other room makes me feel weirdly scared so I’ll just have to double up on deodorant and wait until I get home to wash my hair.

Park has taken all the blankets off the couch and folded them up neatly, stacking the pillow on top. That isn’t the first thing I notice when I walk into the living room. I wish it was—I wish I hadn’t stepped outside of the bedroom door and caught Park’s gaze the moment I looked up—but that’s how it ended up working out. He’s lounging on the couch, one foot on the coffee table, his right arm stretched across the back of the couch. In his left hand he holds the remote control and is flipping through channels on the television.

Our eyes meet for at least five seconds, which is three and a half seconds longer than any direct eye contact should last, and his lips part into a smile. “Good morning.” He says it all casually and sexily and that damn smile of his makes him look like the gorgeous guy in a romantic comedy—right before you find out he’s married or gay or in some other way totally unattainable.

“Morning,” I say back, looking bored and equally unattainable.

“Ready for breakfast?”

“I guess?” My nerves make my reply come out sounding like a question, but it works in my favor. Park’s eyebrows draw together and he gives me a sideways look. “Did you get my text?”

“Your text?” This time I do mean it as a question. Why should I let him know I’ve already read, and reread, and re-reread his text from this morning? A girl who is unattainable wouldn’t have bothered to read his text, so that’s exactly what I’m going to pretend. “Let me check.” I slide the phone out of my back pocket and go through the motions of pretending to read his text for the first time. “What am I, your mother?”

“God, I hope not,” he says with a little laugh.

“There’s probably food in the kitchen,” I say. “Jace is addicted to Pop tarts.”

He shakes his head. “No way. I need bacon and eggs. And waffles. Since you’re the local Texan, can you tell me where the best breakfast place is around here?”

“Sherry’s Diner is pretty good and it’s about the most Texan experience you’ll get around here. It’s just up the road a few miles.”

When he stands up, he’s suddenly towering over me, and I don’t flinch, no matter how strong the urge is to take a step backward. I didn’t notice him grab his truck keys, but now he’s jiggling them in his hand. “You ready?”

“Ready for what?”

He swings the key around his index finger. It still has the plastic tag on it from the car dealership. “Ready for breakfast? I’ll drive.”

Now I know how Bayleigh feels when she rides around in Jace’s fancy truck. Park has one just like it. A Ford pickup with four doors and big tires and leather seats. The new car smell permeates the air as we drive down the back roads toward Sherry’s Café. We don’t have much to say, but luckily the silence never lasts too long because I’ll have to give him more directions.

Everything’s happening so fast: Park showing up, Park asking me to breakfast. I don’t really have time to process it all. Soon, we’re sitting in a corner booth near the back of the crowded café and Park orders a coffee and asks if I’d like one as well.

“Yes, please,” I say, looking up at the waitress.

“She’s a woman after my own heart,” Park says with that freaking smile of his.

“Oh yeah?” The waitress says in reply. “Coffee is all it takes to win you over?”

Oh my God. She’s flirting. And now that I look at her, she isn’t much older than I am, and definitely not bad to look at either. I glance at Park to see if he’s staring at her cute face or her nicely-shaped boobs. But he’s staring at me. He winks. “Coffee isn’t all it takes,” he says to her, still looking at me. “But it’s a good start.”

Again, he stares at me just a fraction too long for two people who are just friends. I know all of the signs point to Park flirting with me right now, especially when he takes a sugar packet from the container on the table and tosses it at me. He’s practically a kid on the playground who just pulled my hair. But I’m having a really hard time buying that a guy so freaking hot would even care to flirt with someone as plain and boring as me.

I might have gotten a kickass job and hair highlights in the past year, but besides that, I’m still pretty much just regular old Becca. Of course, that doesn’t mean I can’t have just a little bit of fun flirting back with him. He’ll be gone soon anyway, so it’s not like it’ll matter.

The sugar packet ammo lands in my lap and I grab it, place it in my spoon and then fling it back across the table toward him. He goes to catch it but it bounces off his hand, flies through the air and lands on the floor several feet away from our table. My eyes go wide and I try to hide my laughter.

Park shakes his head, pretending to be disappointed in me. “This Texas girl is trying to get me kicked out before I've even had breakfast.”

“What is your fascination with constantly reminding me that I’m from Texas? Is it because I’m so cool and you’re super jealous of that fact?”

I expect him to laugh and shoot back something equally sarcastic. But instead, he just sips from his coffee and then smirks at me.

“What?” I say. I stir sugar into my coffee to avoid looking at him. He shakes his head and says, “Nothing.”

“Well now you have to tell me.” I grip my coffee mug with both hands and bring it to my lips. “Why are you smirking at me like that?”

“Smirking? I’m not smirking.”

I scoff. “Excuse you, Nolan Park. I know smirking when I see it. I watch Vampire Dairies. I know smirk.”

This makes him flat out laugh out loud. “How does watching a vampire show make you an expert on what’s a smirk?”

“Um, duh.” I roll my eyes. “Have you seen Ian Somerhalder? He is the smirk king. And you happen to be making that same expression right now.”

He leans forward, resting on his elbows. His eyes pierce into mine and his lips part into a wicked smile. “Maybe I’m a vampire,” he says quietly.

I shrug. “Doubtful. Vampires would be way hotter than you.”

“Ouch. Texas girls are meaner than California girls.”

I lift my fork from the table and point it at him. “Call me a Texas girl one more time and I’ll stab this through your eyeball.”

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Okay okay. I’ll stop. I just have to call you that because I don’t know anything else about you.”

The waitress brings our food and all conversation stops while Park dives into his order of eggs and bacon with extra bacon. “So tell me about yourself,” he says. “What are some exciting things about Becca the bridesmaid?”

“Well I’m a big fan of the Vampire Diaries,” I say. “Not just the show. I’ve read all the books. And I read them back in the old days before they had a TV show and before they were super popular.” Park nods and gives me his smirk again and I realize I’ve just rambled off something really lame and stupid about myself. God, Becca. In an effort to redeem myself, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “I’ve been practicing on a BMX bike lately and I’m getting good at the foam pit.”

This seems to get his attention. He actually stops shoveling food into his mouth for an entire moment so he can talk. “Really? That’s impressive.”

“Yeah, well it’s not that impressive. I’m basically just pedaling into a pile of foam blocks. I can’t do any tricks yet.”

“Most girls are terrified of the foam pit. I can never even get them to walk up the half pipe just to watch me ride.”

“They’re not scared,” I say, stirring my coffee even though the sugar has been thoroughly mixed for a while now. “They’re just flirting with you. Making themselves seem so fragile it’s sexy. Stuff like that.”

This makes him laugh. “You’re probably right, but I don’t get why girls think it’s sexy to be terrified of everything fun.”

“Don’t ask me,” I say with a snort of laughter. “I don’t know the first thing about being sexy.”

He smiles but this time it isn’t one of those smirky bordering-on-being-an-asshole smiles. It’s how he looked last night when he was walking my best friend down the aisle. This smile is as genuine as it can get. Then we make eye contact and he lowers his gaze to his plate, shaking his head a little as if he can’t believe what he’s thinking.

“Go on,” I say, waving my fork at him. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

He takes another bite of his breakfast. “You don’t want to know.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” I say sarcastically. “I’ll just be over here on my side of the booth thinking stupid things about you to make you feel insecure.”

When he looks at me again, I know I’ve done it. I’ve said the magic words to break him open and make him tell me what he’s thinking. I really hope it’s something I want to hear.

His eyes slowly find mine as he moves his fork around on his plate. “I’m thinking...that you’re one of the good ones.”

I open my mouth to reply, but for the first time in my life, I don’t have anything to say. Park continues, “You’re a sweet girl. That’s what I’m thinking. You talk about books and you wear matching pajamas and you’ll do anything for your best friend.”

“Hey now, those pajamas were Bayleigh’s,” I interject, but he keeps talking.

“I like being around you.”

I rest my chin in my hands. “Why is that?”

He doesn’t even stumble over his words. “You’re exactly the kind of girl I would date.”

I swallow. “And well, you know,” he says, swirling his fork around in the air. “You’re the kind of girl I’d work really hard for, like I’d call and text and shit. And it’d all be for nothing because then I’d break your heart.”

“Why the hell would you work hard to win over a girl and then break her heart?”

His smile fades. “It isn’t on purpose. It’s never on purpose. I might be a dick sometimes but I don’t go out of my way to hurt someone.”

I lean back in my seat, crossing my arms over my chest. “So it’s happened before? This dating a nice girl and breaking her heart scenario?”

“Oh yeah,” he says, drawing in a deep breath and letting it out slowly so that it puffs up his cheeks. “It’s happened before.”

“Sounds like you didn’t try hard enough to keep her.”

He shakes his head and dives back into his food, his solemn moment of remembrance now forgotten. “I didn’t want to keep any of them.”

“So you don’t want to be a dick and yet you’re openly admitting to being a dick?” I say. “I don’t think you’re a very nice person, Park.”

He shrugs. Gives me that killer smile of his. “I’m nice when I want to be.”

Chapter 7

Park wasn’t kidding about how his copy of Jace and Bayleigh’s apartment key is seriously subpar. It takes him three tries and several curse words before he gets the door unlocked. When he finally does, he has to work to get the key back out of the lock.

“Let me see that,” I say, reaching for his key. His key is shiny and crisp where the machine had recently carved it out. Mine is a little worn down on the edges. Although the ridges are the same shape on both keys, his is slightly bigger. “You got a crappy one,” I say, handing it back. “They gave me the good key. Probably because they like me more than they like you.”

“I just need to use the key more,” he says, plopping on the couch and stretching out his body to cover the full length of it. He lies on his back and rests his hands behind his neck. “Guess I need to come visit you more often.”

I lift an eyebrow. “I don’t live here, so good luck on that.”

“Where do you live?”

“In Lawson…where C&C BMX Park is. Duh.”

“Ah, even better. I have friends in Lawson.” His eyes follow me as I walk from the living room to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. I twist off the cap and take a sip. Then I pour some of the water in Jace’s plant near the window. I watered the other one, the bonsai, last night so it should be good for a while. Park clucks his tongue. “And now I have a new friend in Lawson.”

I think he’s flirting. But after all of that heart breaking talk, I’m not sure I even want to associate with him. He’s gorgeous. But he’s dangerous. He breaks girls hearts and openly admits it. Who does that?

My phone goes off and it’s a text from Mom. I smile when I check her message, just in case the heart breaker on the couch is curious as to who I’m texting. For all he knows, it’s another guy. A hotter guy. A guy who doesn’t break hearts.

Mom: You awake yet?

Me: Yep. I’m alive and well.

Mom: You should get on the road before traffic hits so you’re not late.

Me: Late for what?

I can’t help myself. I look up casually from my phone and see Park, doing exactly what I hoped he would be doing. Watching me. I give him an apathetic smile and my phone beeps again, which makes me take all of my attention away from him as I check the reply.

Mom: College registration is today. Don’t tell me you forgot.

“Shit,” I say under my breath. Of course I forgot! Yesterday, I was a girl who had my life in order. It was the biggest day of my best friend’s life and I was the person in charge of making sure it went off smoothly. I had schedules and notebooks and an agenda. I was supposed to drive home after the wedding, get a good night’s sleep, and then head to LCC and get a jump start on registration. Three of my classes are basic freshmen courses but one is only offered by one teacher at one time of the day and it’s very hard to get into.

Mixed Media Art & Design, taught by Patricia St. Claire is going to make or break me. While everyone else knows exactly what they’re going to college for, I’m still kind of lost on the whole choosing a career thing. Mom had encouraged me to choose something I’m passionate about, and since there is no Bachelors of Binge-Watching Netflix, I decided to choose my inspirational quotes.

More specifically, making the quotes into an art form. Hey, it could be a career…maybe not a very lucrative one. But Patricia St. Claire is a renowned mixed media artist who has had her art pieces shown all over the world. She travels around the country now, teaching her class to various colleges. This year, she just happens to be giving one single class at LCC. I have to take it. Next year, I can fill my schedule with boring core classes but this year I must be in her class.

It is absolutely essential that I get to the college on time to register. And now, as I check the time, I realize I have to leave like, five minutes ago if I have any hope of getting my class.

“Everything okay?” It’s the first non-sarcastic thing that’s come out of Park’s mouth in the whole day. I shake my head no. “I have to go back home. College registration today…shit…shit…shit…” I mutter the last part more to myself than to him. I toss him his keys, which I had still been holding, and rush through the apartment getting all of my stuff ready. My bridesmaid dress is unzipped in the back and wrinkled from being tossed on the chair, but I don’t have time to put it back in the garment bag. Folded up and shoved under my arm, the dress gets even more squished as I run back to Bayleigh’s bedroom and start gathering my things. Luckily, it isn’t much.

Park leans against the couch when I emerge a few seconds later, eyes scanning the room for anything I might have forgotten. “Well it was…er…nice, I guess, to hang out with you,” I say with my arms full of stuff. “Now could you please open the front door for me so I can get out of here?”

“I’ll be happy to open the door for us, but first I need to turn off the television.” He leans over the coffee table, grabs the remote control and powers off the TV. “There,” he says, sliding his palms over his pockets. “I’m ready if you are.”

“Uh…you’re not going with me.” It doesn’t sound as sarcastic as I had hoped it would, and by the carefree look on Park’s face, I’d say he didn’t catch any of my sarcasm at all.

“Sure, I am,” he says, smiling at me in a way that’s somehow intimidating. “I have nothing else to do.”

“You could be living your own life which has nothing to do with me?” I suggest. He doesn’t seriously think he’s coming with me, does he?

He shakes his head. “My life is on hold until they mail me my new card. I can’t go home and my best friend is on his honeymoon. I have no life right now. So you’re stuck with me.”

“Well, I do have a life,” I say, edging toward the door. “So it looks like you’re stuck with yourself.”

I shuffle around the stuff in my hands so I can open the door myself, but Park dives in front of it, pressing his palm to the door. “Aw, come on. I want to go.”

The thought of spending the next few hours with him sends a chill down my spine and I’m not sure if it’s a good chill or a bad one. I put my hand on my hip, as best as I can with all the crap in my arms. “Why? It’s course registration at a community college. It’s boring.”

“So? I’ll be bored here.”

I try to step around him but he blocks the door. “It’s like an hour away.”

“Would you believe me if I said I’m just not ready to stop hanging out with you?”

Holy crap, I think he’s actually serious. I swallow. Shrug. Try to look cool. “Of course I’d believe you. You haven’t made yourself out to be a liar. At least not in the short while that I’ve known you.”

“Great. Now we can go.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I say, feeling like maybe honesty is the only thing that will work on someone so stubborn. “I barely know you and it sounds like it’ll be super awkward to spend so long in the car with you. And what are you going to do when I get to the college? Stand around and be bored? It could take a while, you know.”

“I’ve got three to five days, Becca. The United States Postal Service is freakishly slow, probably because Jace lives in the middle of freaking nowhere. I can’t possibly stay here all day with nothing to do.”

“You’re a big boy. You could find something to do.”

“I already found something,” he says with a tilt of his head that makes my knees week. “I’m hanging out with you.”

“No offence or anything,” I say, hating myself with every single word. “But I don’t think I want to hang out with you.”

“Aw, come on. The maid of honor and the best man have to be friends. It’s bad luck for the bride and groom if they’re not.”

I shuffle the dress under my arm so my hand is free to reach for the door. “That is probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He beats me to it and pulls open the door, brandishing his hand to let me go outside first. “It might be stupid, but it worked. I’ll drive.”

Park doesn’t back down when we get out to the parking lot and I argue that he has no credit card and therefore shouldn’t be wasting gas in his truck when my car will work just fine. He just pulls out his wallet, flashing a stack of cash and says he’s got it covered. I don’t mind letting him drive and I wouldn’t care at all if this were a different situation. But my house is an hour away and if he drives me to the college then he’ll have to drive me back here to get my car and at any moment my mom could call and wonder why it’s taking me so long to get home. But like any girl under the influence of a massive crush, I just throw all my stuff in the back of Park’s truck and go along for the ride, consequences be damned.

Chapter 8

It’s oddly refreshing when Park doesn’t act like a flirtatious d-bag on the drive to the college. In fact, he’s acting like a genuinely cool guy. We instantly agree on which radio station to listen to, which is already an improvement on when I would hang out with Braedon last year. He was obsessed with heavy metal and I, well, wasn’t. Park doesn’t seem to be obsessed with anything, at least not that I can see.

He’s pretty laid back just like I would expect a guy from California to be. Jace is from California after all, and he’s the most laid back person on earth. When he had told me he was going to propose to Bayleigh, he hadn’t even seemed nervous at all. Park has a lot of these same qualities.

“So tell me about your classes,” Park asks after patiently waiting for the newest Taylor Swift song to end. I’d been singing along to it since I couldn’t think of anything to say. Now that it’s over and a commercial break has taken its place, small talk has to resume.

“I’m really excited about one class. It’s an art class that’s hard to get into. The rest of them are just boring first year classes.” I’m proud of the way I keep it a low key reply. After all that talk of him calling me the sweet, good girl, I definitely don’t need him seeing the side of me that gets all girly and spastic when I talk about Patricia St. Claire’s class.

“All of college is boring,” he says. “I never finished it and I never will.”

“How long did you go?” I ask.

“Two and a half years full time and then another semester half time. I just couldn’t take it anymore. It’s all dumbass essays and reading the world’s most boring books.”

“Yeah that’s probably true, but how are you going to get a career and all that stuff if you don’t graduate college?”

He gives me a sideways glance like I’ve just asked why the world isn’t flat. “Really? Do you know who I am?”

“Of course I do. You’re the best man and I’m the maid of honor.”

His quizzical expression melts into a contemplative smile. His eyes go back to the road and he’s silent for a while but I can tell he wants to say something. I keep quiet because for some reason the air has changed in this truck and it feels like I’ve said something I probably shouldn’t have.

It’s probably only a few moments but it feels like much longer before he finally talks again. “I don’t need a college education to get a career because I already have a career. I’m a professional motocross racer.”

“Isn’t that something you can only do when you’re young? What are your plans for after that?”

“Jeremy McGrath raced into his thirties,” he says it as if I have any idea who Jeremy McGrath is. “I have a ton of sponsorships and I don’t see myself quitting anytime soon. It’d take some kind of epic injury to keep me off a bike. And if that happened, I’ve got insurance out the ass.”

I can’t help myself—I have to ask. “Do you make a lot of money with racing? Enough to last you until you’re old?”

He laughs so hard it makes me jump. “Oh, Becca. You’re definitely one of the good girls.”

“Yeah, I’m just going to ignore that comment.” He laughs again but it’s to himself, some private joke that he just can’t get enough of. I lean forward and change the radio station just to have something to do. “So you’re just going to ride dirt bikes for a living and never get a real job, huh? Must be nice. I’ll be stuck in a cubicle or something until I’m old enough to retire and then sit at my house until I die.”

“Wow, Maid of Honor. Way to harness the power of positive thinking.”

I shrug. “If this art thing doesn’t work out then I have no idea what I’ll do as a career, but it’ll probably be stupid and boring. Unfortunately, I wasn’t born with any dirt bike skills. I guess I could work at C&C forever and brush up on my ability to dive into a foam pit…”

He turns down the radio. “Art thing?”

“It’s nothing. I can’t make a career out of art.”

He looks like he wants to say more but I turn my attention to the window next to me and the trees and beyond the highway.

“I’m sure you’re good at something,” he says. “You’re young. You’ll figure it out. Or you can work on your art and marry a rich motocross guy.”

Butterflies burst to life in my stomach. I can practically feel my palms turn to sweat. I look over at him with a coy smile. “I could, huh?”

“Absolutely. He’d be damn lucky to have you.”

I look out of the window so he won’t see my goofy smile. And, just in case he did see it, I decide to give him something to think about. “He’d never get that lucky.”

Chapter 9

Lawson Community College is a far cry from the universities shown in movies. It’s certainly nothing like the Yale campus on the show Gilmore Girls. When I was younger I used to watch my mom’s DVDs of Gilmore Girls and imagine myself in Rory’s position when I was finally eighteen. I’d be super smart and attend an Ivy League college like Yale and I’d drink from the coffee carts and live in beautiful dorm rooms.

Then I actually turned eighteen and realized my life would be anything but Gilmore Girl-esque. My grades weren’t bad but they weren’t especially good. I was a solid B student with a small aptitude for art class. If Ivy League universities accepted people based on their ability to daydream until lunch time and then resume classes and daydream until the final bell rang, then yeah, I’d have been offered a full scholarship. As it is, I knew there was no point in even applying.

It’s okay though. I don’t want a stressful high-profile life. College, to me, is just a necessary evil that’s required to obtain some kind of semi-decent job that will get me through the chores of life: renting an apartment, buying a new car, paying the bills and taking a once a year vacation that I can’t really afford.

Yep, my standards aren’t set very high. I’d like to just get by in life. I don’t need to make a splash. I don’t need to be some famous celebrity or the world’s smartest scientist.

“This is it?” Park says as he pulls into the parking lot named Parking Lot A. An old and fading sign near the entrance tells us that the admissions office is to the right. Park turns off the engine and drums his fingers on the steering wheel. “Where’s the rest of the college?”

“This is it,” I say. “Look, there’s like five buildings.”

“I thought everything was bigger in Texas. This is smaller than the dorms at UCLA.”

“This isn’t a prestigious college, Park. This is basic community college. The easiest, quickest way I’ll make it through some kind of higher education.”

“Why are you trying to get through it so quickly? You don’t want that college experience?”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask. When we get out of the truck and start making our way toward the admissions building, I feel a wave of nervous energy pulse through my veins. I’m already admitted into the college. My paperwork and verification is all good. I even have a small scholarship from writing an essay that should pay for my first semester. All I have to do is sign up for my classes. This shouldn’t be a nerve-wracking event.

Park shoves his hands in his pockets. “You know. Parties, boozing, hooking up with a ton of guys. Starbucks coffee and Ugg boots. The typical college experience.”

“Wow, is that what you think of women?”

“Not women. College girls. I’ve never met a single one that didn’t just want to get drunk and hook up with me.”

“And did you oblige them?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes.”

“Someone’s a slut,” I say in this fake jokey kind of way as I elbow him in the ribs. I want him to think I’m cool and laid back and that I’m not completely intimidated and kind of horrified at his omission. I’ve had sex exactly zero times and have been drunk even fewer times than that. 

“Hardly,” is his reply.

“Sure sounds like slut behavior to me. I bet you can’t even count how many women you’ve slept with.” It’s a complete bait move and we both know it. I’m dying to know his answer to this question even though it’s absolutely none of my business. But you see, I have this problem. This huge, astronomical problem and I am fairly certain that if I let the problem get any bigger, my brain will burst. The problem is this: I am not sure if I want to have a crush on Nolan Park. Sure he’s gorgeous and he claims to be rich and before Bayleigh had met Jace she would have told me that gorgeous and rich was the world’s most amazing combination and that I should date this guy as soon as possible. But now I’m not so sure those two superficial aspects should determine if I like someone or not.

Anyone can be good looking. It’s a natural born trait. It’s not like he had to work for his jaw line or his blue eyes or that cocky smile. It’s not like he wakes up every morning and spends an hour shampooing, drying and flat ironing his hair like I do. He’s just hot and that’s not even something he can control.

I try telling myself to let go of the superficial reasons for liking someone. That swooning over Dean and Sam on Supernatural is fine because it’s just a TV show, but in real life, you can’t pick a partner based on those characteristics alone. You need sustenance. You need romance. Love. Friendship. Little things that a guy does only for you that lets you know you’re the special one in his life.

Anyone can be a drunken college girl getting laid. That is not something I aspire to be. So maybe I shouldn’t allow myself to have this stupid crush on him. We approach the building with the large metal letters that say ADMISSIONS on the front and I have to swallow a few times to get my heart to go back to where it belongs. Park picks up his pace and beats me to the door. In one swift motion, he pulls it open and waits for me to go through. It’s such a natural movement for him that I almost don’t realize what’s happening.

He’s holding the door open for me. He’s smiling. He’s being a gentleman. That has to count for something, right?

Registration goes smoothly, which is a relief because I’m not sure I could have handled the embarrassment of having something go wrong with my payment or paperwork. And if I hadn’t been able to get into Patricia St. Claire’s class, I would have probably broken down and cried right there in the middle of the college library.

Luckily, I did get into her class. I was the fourth person who signed up. I know it’s kind of stupid to think things like this, but I was a little shocked that only three people had signed up already. She’s a famous artist! Students should be lining up, excitedly waiting to sign up for her class. But I guess her artistic genius is a little too profound for the lame minds of Lawson, Texas.

Park notices a Starbucks kiosk in the cafeteria and mentions that he could totally use some caffeine right now. “Go get some,” I tell him, reaching into my purse. “I’m going to step over here and call my mom to let her know I’m registered.”

As much as I’d like to wait in line with him for some coffee, there’s finally a convenient opportunity to get away from him so I can call her. I’ve been too scared to call her while he’s around—he can’t be trusted. He would say something that would either embarrass me or make Mom ask way too many questions. As far as she knows, I drove myself to the college and registered all by myself.

I step to the side and hang out near a water fountain in the middle of the room and call Mom. She answers after several rings. “Hey honey, how did it go?”

“It went great,” I say, trying not to look too excited in front of the older college students that are mulling around. “I got my class.”

“That’s good. Are you all done?”

“Yep.” Apparently the Starbucks wasn’t that busy because to my horror, I see Park walking toward me, holding two paper cups of coffee. “I should probably go,” I tell her right in the middle of whatever she was saying back to me.

“Wait,” Mom says. There’s shuffling on the other line, the sound of a car door beeping because it’s been left open while the key is in the ignition. I realize she’s not sitting at home watching television. She’s in her car somewhere. “I figured we could get lunch to celebrate you being a college kid now. Does Mexican food sound good?”

My heart leaps into my throat. “Um, no Mom, I can’t—” I try to think of a reasonable excuse as to why I can’t go with her, but my brain completely freezes up, leaving me helpless.

“I’m at the college now. I think I see your car…I’ll go park by it.”

“What? No,” I stammer. “That’s probably not me.”

I guess it’s not unusual for more than one person to have an old Corolla, but whatever car she sees, I can be sure it’s not mine. Because my car is in Bayleigh’s parking lot in Mixon, Texas. “Mom I can’t meet up with you because I’m busy,” I finally manage to say.

“What are you doing? Did you get called into work? I can just bring you food.”

“No, that’s not it,” I say. Park saunters up next to me, handing me one of the cups. “Extra sugar, because you seem like an extra sugar person.”

I smile and mouth the word thanks. Then I turn back to the conversation with my mom. “It’s not work, it’s um, this college thing. Like an orientation.”

“I don’t remember reading about that.”

“Yeah, it’s optional, but I really want to go. I see some friends here so I think I’ll just hang out a while.”

“Oh, well okay. Would you like me to stop by and see the school? Help you find your classes?”

“Mom,” I groan. “No. Sorry but no. I’m in college now, you can’t have your parents hang out with you.”

“Okay, okay. Fine.” The disappointment in her voice is obvious but if I weren’t lying to her, I wouldn’t feel bad. It’s true…college students don’t need their parents hanging out with them on campus.

“I’ll call you later.”

“Let me know how it goes!” I hear her car start up again.

“I will, Mom.”

The moment I hang up the phone, Park starts in on me. “Was that your mother? You were lying to your mother? I can’t believe you did that.”

“Shut up,” I say, sipping from my coffee and leading the way toward the parking lot. “I had to lie to her because you are with me.”

“And you’re embarrassed of me?” He nudges me with his shoulder as we walk. “That’s so mean of you, Becca.”

“I’m not embarrassed of you. I’m not anything of you. I don’t even know you.”

“You keep saying that,” he says. He taps his finger against the cup in his hand. “I’d love for you to get to know me better.”

“What does that mean?”

We’re at his truck now, both of us on the same side. The passenger side. He unlocks the door with the remote on his keys and then pulls open the door for me. “It means I think you should know me better. And I should know you better.” He’s standing entirely too close right now. His hand rests on the inside of the passenger door and the truck is so tall that I need to hold onto the door to climb inside. I wonder if he knows that. If he’s trying to get in my way on purpose so I’ll have to touch him.

Instead of climbing into the truck, I put a hand on my hip. “Are you hitting on me, Nolan Park?”

He puts a hand on his hip, an embarrassingly girly pose that is meant to mock me. “Yes I am, Becca…whatever your last name is.”

I climb into the truck, making sure my ass brushes against his arm on the way up. “Someone who’d like to get to know me better might start by learning my last name.”

He leans into the truck, stopping his face just inches from mine. “I’ll know your last name by the end of the day. Promise.”

Chapter 10

The sun is setting and I’m sitting dangerously close to Nolan Park on Bayleigh’s couch. We’ve rented a movie and ordered a pizza and I have entirely too many butterflies in my stomach to bother eating any of it. He is so close and he smells so good and I can’t focus on anything.

I don’t know how this happened. Seriously.

Like a bunny rabbit following a carrot on a string, I’ve fallen into his trap. He leans forward, places his drink on the coffee table and then leans back into the couch, sliding a few inches closer to me. He nudges my shoulder with his, leaning over, looking down into my eyes, his lips just inches from mine. “You ready to watch the movie?”

That is so not what I thought he was going to say. I nod, probably a little too eagerly. “Of course I want to watch the movie, I’m the one who picked it out.”

He laughs. “Then why are you staring at me instead of the television?”

I roll my eyes and look away. He starts the movie and we settle more comfortably on the couch. Our shoulders touch but he’s tall enough that his shoulder makes a perfect ledge that I could totally rest my head on if I were to get the courage. For now, I tuck my hands into my sides and lean my head against the back of the couch.

I don’t know what exactly we’re doing. But I don’t want it to stop. We’ve spent the entire day together, from waking up this morning to driving to the college and then having lunch together at a small place called the Sunflower Café. When he brought me back to Mixon to get my car, I ended up hanging out a little longer than I realized. We talked and laughed and watered Jace and Bayleigh’s plants together.

I was just starting to think that he was somebody I could love being around. And that’s when he had said the magic words. “You should stay over here another night.”

“Why’s that?” I’d replied, giving him the coyest of all coy smiles.

“I’m all alone in this tiny town and I’m bored. We could hang out.”

He flashed me that freaking smile and it was all over. My mother was surprisingly cool with it when I called her and asked if it was okay for me to spend another night at Bayleigh’s apartment. I told her it was fun to watch as much TV as I wanted without having to keep the volume down since Dad sleeps during the day for his night shifts. Also, I might have made a teensy lie about how Bayleigh’s apartment was full of leftover wedding stuff and I wanted to get it all cleaned up and nice for her when she returned home. Mom thought that was very sweet of me.

Biggest lie ever.

Bayleigh’s apartment is spotless, as always. But in the effort of not being a complete and total liar to my own mother, I promise myself to clean up as much as I can before I leave.

The movie is still in the opening sequence, a musical number with swirly painted scenes scrolling across the screen while the names of the movie stars fade into view. I can’t help myself. I turn my face up so that my cheek is pressed against Park’s shoulder. “Why are we doing this?” I ask.

“Well I assumed it was because you wanted to see the most girly movie in existence,” he says. “I would have been happy with an action film…or a comedy…or even a tragedy…”

“I don’t mean the movie,” I say, lifting up from the comfortable position on his arm. “I mean this. Me and you, watching a movie, hanging out. Nothing good can come of this?”

“Nothing good?” Concern flickers across his face. “Do you really mean that?”

As much as it hurts to admit that I’m a dorky loser who doesn’t want to just hook up with a guy for the fun of it, I nod. “I’m sorry, Park but…I’m just not that kind of girl.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “What kind of girl?”

I sigh because he can’t just get the picture without making me explain it. And I’d really like to not explain it. It’s embarrassing. But if a girl doesn’t keep her morals, then she has no reason to be proud of who she is. “You know…the kind of girl who does this kind of thing…” I gesture vaguely in the air.

“What kind of thing? Watch a movie with someone awesome?”

I sit up straighter. “Park you know that’s not what this is. This is pretending to watch a movie for other reasons. And I’m sorry and you’re super hot but it’s just not going to happen. I’m not the kind of girl who can have a one night stand and then go about her life like it was no big deal. It would kill me. I’m sorry but it would.”

“Wait, no.” Park stands up and then sits back down on the coffee table, facing me. “First of all, stop apologizing. You should never say you’re sorry for something like that. And secondly…” He points to his finger as if he was about to number off more things to say, but instead, he chews on his bottom lip and avoids looking me in the eye. “I just…it’s not like that. I mean yeah, I was hoping we’d make out, but I’m offended that you’d call it a one night stand.” His eyes slowly lift toward mine. I sit rigid on the couch, arms wrapped around myself, eyes unable to do anything but stare at him as he reveals more of himself than he’s done all day. “I want to be close to you, I want to know you. I…definitely wanted to kiss you but…it wouldn’t have been a one night stand. It’s not like that with you.”

“Really, Park?” My voice sounds stronger than I feel, and it catches me off guard. “You live in California and I live in Texas. Please tell me how this would be anything other than a one night stand.”

“It wouldn’t have been a one night stand. I planned on staying here as long as I could and getting to know you. I wanted to learn everything I could about you and then just figure it out along the way. I know this sounds crazy but I was hoping you’d feel the same way.”

“Right, so in a few days when your credit card gets here, you’re not going to pack up and leave immediately so you can go back to your beautiful state with all the ‘nice’ girls?”

He shakes his head. “No, I won’t.”

“How do you know that?”

For once since I’ve known him, he actually looks embarrassed. “Because my card was shipped overnight. It’s already here. I just needed an excuse to stay longer.”

I don’t even know what to say to that but I think I’m smiling. After a few moments of awkward silence, the words come to me. “You wanted more than a one night stand and yet you thought you’d start off the relationship with a lie?” I cock my head to the side. “And how exactly did you think that would work out in your favor?”

“I didn’t think,” he says, shaking his head. “I never think. I just act on impulse. Trust me, there was no thinking involved when I met you at the wedding. I just knew I had to know you.”

“You’re talking like a crazy person.”

His smile softens. He drops back to the couch, turning to face me, letting our knees touch. “You’re making me a crazy person. This isn’t like me. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Yeah, but I also can’t stop thinking about you and it’s probably because we’ve been together all day.”

“That’s my point.” His hand slides onto my knee, spreading a tingly warmth thorough my whole leg. He looks down at his hand, at the goose bumps prickling my skin underneath his touch, and he smiles. “I should be sick of you by now. We’ve spent the entire day together. With any other girl, I would have started hinting for you to leave, like hours ago. I would have probably made a move on you because you’re so hot and then I’d have bailed. But it’s not like that with you.”

“Probably because you haven’t made a move on me,” I say, trying not to forget how the corner of his lips turned up when he said I was hot. “You keep saying crap like that, but you haven’t made a single move all day, Park. I think you’re just full of shit.”

There’s barely any time to register the sinister smile that flashes across his features in the second before his lips meet mine. He tastes like Cherry Coke and his lips are full, warm and inviting. Chills dance across my cheek when he slides his hand down my face, toward my neck. His fingers wrap around the back of my neck, pulling me into him.

He doesn’t need to pull me—I am all his and I am eager to fall into him, kissing him with abandon. Kissing him like I’ve never been kissed before. His fingers dig into my hair as a yearning to deepen the kiss takes over him. His tongue slides over my bottom lip, slipping my lip between his teeth. I shudder in pleasure and lean into him, needing him, wanting to be closer and closer.

I press into him, sliding my hands across his hard chest and up over his shoulders. He wraps a strong arm around my waist and shifts, pulling me straight into his lap. I move my legs to where I’m straddling him on the couch. Our eyes meet.

I feel like giggling, but I don’t. I stare straight into his clear blue eyes and give him a sultry smile. He draws in a deep breath, his eyes sweeping down my body and then back up again. His hands slide up my thighs and tuck under my butt. My eyes close when he nuzzles into my neck, his soft breath tickling my skin as he leaves behind a trail of kisses.

His mouth hovers on my neck for just a moment before his tongue grazes across my flesh. A groan escapes me and I clutch to him, digging my fingers into his shoulders and pressing my body into his.

And then my phone rings.

I have to gasp for breath. That’s how totally out of reality I’ve fallen. “That’s Bayleigh’s ringtone,” I whisper, suddenly scared that my breath smells bad. After all of this, kissing, faces pressed together—now I’m suddenly worried about bad hygiene? I really need to get my priorities together. “I should get it,” I say after the third ring. “It could be important.”

He nods, watching his finger as he traces circles on my thigh. “You should get it.”

“Okay,” I say. “I’m just going to get up…” Why, oh, why is it so hard to get up?

I answer the phone, breathless.

“Were you sleeping?” Is the first thing Bayleigh says. “I didn’t realize it was so late. What time is it over there?”

“You’re in a different time zone?” I ask, confused by the idea at first. But I guess when you have your own private airplane on your honeymoon, you can fly wherever you want to go.

“We’re in New York City! We’re about to see a Broadway show.”

“Wow, sounds fun. Why are you bothering to call me on your honeymoon, missy? You should be off having sex and stuff.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry, we’re taking care of that. I just had to tell you that Jace thinks he left some vegetables in the fridge and he wanted me to see if you’ll throw them out before they get all moldy and smelly and disgusting.”

“Sure thing, I’ll check it out,” I say, getting up and heading to the kitchen without even thinking about it. “Looks like the asparagus is already pretty gross,” I say, taking it out of the vegetable drawer with my nose crinkled up.

“You’re over there right now?” she asks, curious. “Is Park still there?”

“Yeah,” I say sheepishly. Then, lower so he can’t overhear, “That’s kind of why I’m here.”

She gasps on the other side of the phone and then bursts into laughter. “You’re a bad girl, Becca Sosa!”

“No…no it’s not like that. I mean it’s a little like that but-” I stop talking when I hear a shuffling on the other end—she whispers something to Jace, presumably what she just found out about me and Park. I dispose of the vegetables and then walk back into the living room. There’s more shuffling and then a deep voice comes on to the phone. “Becca?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Park meets me near the couch, coming up behind me and sliding his arms around my waist. The feel of his hands on my stomach sends tingles down my entire body.

Jace’s voice quickly makes them go away. “Look, I won’t tell you how to live your life or anything, but you should stay away from Park.”

I freeze. “What do you mean by that?”

Park steps closer, pressing his body into my back. His fingers trail down my arms and he leans in, gently kissing my neck while I hold the phone to the other ear. Jace sighs into the phone and I can tell he’s struggling with what he wants to say. “He’s a good guy and all, but he’s a player. He’s not like me. He loves the spotlight and the fame that comes with racing. It’s not surprising that he would try to hook up with you, but I just don’t want you to get hurt. Especially not by my own friend.”

My stomach twists into knots and I find the strength to step away from Park’s embrace. “Thanks, Jace.” My voice is a dejected display of what I feel inside. “Goodnight.”

Chapter 11

As much as I’d like to say that hearing news about Park’s reputation made me hastily grab all of my things and bolt out of the door, back home to the safety of my bedroom in my small town where nothing bad will ever happen to my heart…it doesn’t exactly happen that way. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not thrilled with learning about Park’s less than stellar reputation, but I kind of already knew that from the way he talked at the college today.

Park isn’t like Braedon. He’s not safe. He won’t play the role of sweet but shy boyfriend and wait until he thinks it’s okay to kiss me or slide his hand down my shirt. Park is gorgeous, rich, and famous in the motocross racing world. If he wants something, he’ll work hard to get it.

And now he wants me.

Knowing this should make me freak out with insecurities. But for some reason, I just want to be around him even more now. I know it’s stupid. Trust me, I do. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I took the advice of just about every college student and lived my life a little. I don’t need one special boyfriend. I could date around. It might be fun and it would definitely not end in heartbreak if I don’t allow myself to get emotionally invested.

Plus making out with him just now was the hottest thing I’ve ever done. I could get used to that. Maybe other guys at college will be just as good at kissing as Park is. There’s really only one way to find out, right? And that’s by boldly embracing the single life and not settling down with one guy.

   Park’s phone conveniently comes to life, buzzing around the coffee table just seconds after I hang up with Jace. I panic, thinking it’s Jace calling to yell at him for hitting on me.

“Hey Mama,” he says, giving me an apologetic look. “I’m at Jace’s apartment. Yes, Mom I promise I’m fine. There’s plenty of food and I have plenty of money.”

His voice is softer when talking to her compared to how he talks to me. Maybe not softer, exactly, but different. Childlike. I set my phone on the coffee table and sit back on the couch, keeping my distance from him this time. He answers a few more of her questions. Their conversation could be a clone of the talks I have with my own mom. Always answering her constant questions about every possible aspect of my well-being. If Park has a mom as loving and caring as mine, then he can’t possibly be that bad.

“Sorry about that,” he says when he gets off the phone a few minutes later. “My team and I travel all over the country to race but the one time I do it alone, with no credit card, she freaks out.”

“You have a team? What’s that like?” Yep. I’m changing the subject on purpose. Because although just a moment ago, I thought being the girl who dated around would be fun, right now I’m terrified to kiss those gorgeous lips again. One more kiss just might do me in.

“We call it a team, but racing is pretty much a solo sport. There’s me, a few guys who also race under Kawasaki, and our mechanics come with us. We’re a little family, in a non-weird way.”

“Cool,” I say. “You’ll have to tell me more about that sometime.”

He turns sideways, resting his arm on the back on the couch, his fingers just inches from my shoulder. “Is everything okay? You seem different.”

I shake my head. “I’m fine.” He tilts his head, watching me intently. I swallow. “I’m fine, really. I think maybe I should go soon.”

“Something’s wrong.” He scoots closer to me on the couch, but doesn’t touch me. “What happened on the phone?”

“Nothing.” In my nervousness, I start to laugh. “Seriously, Park. Let’s just change the subject. I’m tired. I guess I should go to bed.”

He leans forward, narrowing his eyes. “You talked to Jace, didn’t you? I bet he said to stay away from me?”

I shake my head, but it’s pointless to deny it. Park sighs. He cracks his knuckles. “I can’t blame him. I mean, I guess I should have known he’d do that. He knows me too well and he cares about you too much.”

“I don’t get you. You talk like you’re some massive player, and then you say you aren’t like that, and then you commend Jace on warning me to stay away from you. So what is it? If we have a…thing…going on here, I want to be a part of it. I refuse to be some silly girl you play for fun.” My chest heaves after my long winded speech, but I’m not finished yet. I square my shoulders and look him dead in the eyes. “If I’m just some girl to make out with and then forget, then that’s my choice. Not yours. You don’t get to sit here and think you’re pulling one over on me. I won’t be the sappy pathetic girl you leave behind, crying and wishing you’d return—”

I don’t stop talking because I want to. I stop because a very rude boy puts his finger over my lips. He smiles and trails his other hand across my cheek. “Becca.” I furrow my brows and he removes his finger, but I don’t say anything. I fold my arms across my chest and wait for whatever he has to say.

“I know you have no reason to trust me, and I know I can be a total d-bag and all,” Park says, lowering his eyes. “But I’m not playing you. I haven’t felt that way once, not since the moment I saw you at the wedding. I don’t want to forget all about you when I go back home. I think we could have something special. I want this to last. I want us to last.”

“You realize you’re asking for something crazy, right?” There goes my brain making my mouth say something logical despite how my heart just sits back and chants yes yes yes! Make it last! in the background of my mind. I look down at my hands. “You sound like some guy in a movie, spouting crazy love-struck ideas to a woman he just met. Life isn’t really like the movies, you know.”

He grabs my hand, folding his fingers around mine. “Life can be better than the movies. You should give me a chance.”

I stare at him defiantly. “Why should I believe you?”

He glances at my lips when he speaks. “Because I’ve never asked this from anyone else before.”

Who did my brain think I was kidding earlier? There’s no way I could casually make out with Park and then date around during college. That is so not me. What he’s asking, what he’s promising me, sounds like a dream come true. My heart can’t decide if it wants to leap for joy or shrink back in fear.

I squeeze his hand as it holds mine. “I’m not in the business of getting heart broken,” I say.

He leans forward, begging for a quick kiss. I can’t help but give it to him. “That’s good,” he says, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against mine. “Because I’m no longer in the business of breaking hearts.”

###

Don’t miss part 3 of Becca’s series: Summer Apart, coming March 2015

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About the Author

Amy Sparling is the author of The Summer Unplugged Series, The Devin and Tobey Series, Deadbeat & other awesome books for younger teens. She also writes books for older teens under the name Cheyanne Young.

Connect with Amy online!

Website: http://www.AmySparling.com

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Summer Together

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

About the Author