At seven, I put the newest historical romance in my tote bag to read before it hit the shelves and made sure I had tucked in everything properly at the library. When I went out the front to lock up, the truck I saw idling outside waiting for me didn’t have John inside it. The gleaming new dark green pickup with Casey’s Garage on the door was being driven by none other than Drew.
His hand slung over the steering wheel, his olive complexion and deep brown eyes, that jet black hair. Just sitting there, the truck idling by the curb, the picture of a man waiting patiently on someone. He wasn’t playing on his phone or anything, just looking out the windshield, his eyes fixed on some far-off point. So close I could have thrown my keys and hit him. Not that I wanted to throw things at him. I was past that anger, wasn’t I?
“Hey,” I said. “I thought John was coming to get me.”
“He got off at five. I knew you’d be the last one out.”
“I have to tuck the library in and sing it a lullaby,” I said. “That’s what Trixie says I do. I don’t really. Sing to it,” I finished, feeling awkward.
He got out of the cab and walked around and opened my door. Like he used to. Damn him. Don’t be a nice guy, the gentleman I knew you as. Be the callous jerk who dumped me for no good reason. It’s easier to hate you that way. Or at least it’s easier not to keep loving you if you’re not acting like the same Drew I’ve been missing. The one I dreamed about last night.
I got in the truck and pulled my damn self together. “Thank you, Drew,” I said, and he shut the door.
When he got in the cab, I was holding my tote bag to my chest like it was a life preserver.
“I’m not gonna bite you,” he said, “you seem wound up. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine,” I said too cheerfully.
He rolled his eyes. Not with contempt. With humor. Like he saw through me that easily,
“I live up past the high school,” I said.
“I’m taking you to the garage to get your car,” he said. I felt my face warm.
“Right,” I said. “I—I appreciate you guys getting it fixed so quickly. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem,” he said.
I took a deep breath and willed myself to keep it together.
4
Drew
It was a risk, switching places with John without warning Michelle. But if I told her I was coming to drive her to the garage to pick up her car, she would’ve walked. Or gotten someone else to drive her. Or hotwired a car. Anything to stay out of a confined space with me. But I did it anyway. I sent John home at five on the dot, told him I’d take care of it.
She was even more beautiful than she was when we were growing up, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t affected by her. Truth was, nothing else had ever been as good. Not even for one day.
“Looks like it might rain tonight,” I observed.
“I didn’t watch the weather this morning. I don’t know,” she said absently, clutching her bag like she was nervous.
“You looking forward to the Fourth of July this year? I hear they’re doing the picnic and stuff out at the new community center this time.”
“I don’t usually go to the fireworks.”
“It was your favorite,” I said, then I broke off. I didn’t know her anymore, and I shouldn’t act like I did.
“Yeah, it was. I can’t remember why,” she said a little wistfully.
“The fireworks and the popsicles. You liked those red, white, and blue ones,” I said. Why did I say it? I sounded like a damn stalker, reciting every detail of who she was eighteen years ago.
“I haven’t had one of those things in years. I remember how great they were when you were hot from the summer night and running around with sparklers and stuff, and then it just cooled you right down and made your face and hands sticky,” she said with a smile.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
And now I was thinking about it. About the first time I ever kissed her, under a tree in the part on Fourth of July when she was fourteen and I was fifteen and neither one of us knew that was as good as it would ever get. A hot night with fireflies all around and our mouths sweet from the sticky popsicles, the music coming from the high school band on the stage, but we were out of the circle of the lights, out in the grass and barefoot under the starry sky before it was quite dark enough for fireworks to go off. I had held her hand earlier, and I was bold and kissed her, half afraid she wouldn’t let me. She’d kissed me back, her arms going around my neck, not letting me barely peck her lips and then backing off shyly, but reaching for me, kissing me back, going all in. We were both all in for the longest time.