Feels like Trouble (Lake Fisher 4)

“I hate you so much.”

But inside, I feel like my brain is mush and my heart is confused. Or maybe my heart is mush and my brain is confused. Hell, I don’t even know.

I bump his foot with mine, because he’s spread out like he owns the pew. “You better pray to God that I don’t kill you before the service is over,” I whisper fiercely.

Grandma leans forward so she can spear me with a glance. “Do I need to take you outside?” she asks me.

“No, ma’am,” I reply. I stare straight at the pulpit. Grady’s chest rocks with silent laughter. “You’re getting me in trouble,” I murmur, trying not to move my lips.

Grady’s eyes fall closed for a moment as he takes in a deep breath. He adjusts his legs and re-situates himself.

“What’s wrong with you?” I whisper right in his ear along with a jab to his ribs.

“Be still,” he replies. He adjusts again. “And stop whispering in my ear.” He lifts the hand from behind me long enough to wipe at the ear that’s closest to me.

I see Grandma reach for her purse, and she pulls out a piece of peppermint candy. It’s one of the big balls that is kind of like eating a cloud—if clouds came in peppermint. She hands it to Grady. She doesn’t take out another. “What about me?” I lean forward to ask.

“I only give them to good boys and girls. Now sit still and stop fiddling around.”

I sit back with a huff. Grady opens his piece of candy by sticking one end of the wrapper between his teeth. He bites half of his piece of candy off and holds the other half out to me.

“Want it?” he asks, when I don’t immediately take it. “I don’t have cooties.”

I hold out my hand and he drops it into my palm. I toss it into my mouth.

I sit there through the service with his arm resting behind me on the back of the pew. His fingers rest gently on top of my shoulder, and if I didn’t feel like I was getting hit by a branding iron, I wouldn’t even have noticed they were there. But they are there, and I’m well aware that they’re there, and I like that they’re there and… Oh fudge.

Half-way through the service he leans toward me and says, “I think I like you a little bit today, Clifford.”

I look up at him, trying to paint my face with a look of mock horror. “Why would you want to go and do something as stupid as that?”

He shakes his head. “No idea,” he replies, his words little more than a murmur. “But don’t go ruining it by being yourself, okay?”

His chest rocks as I cross my legs and fold my arms across my chest. “You’re the worst,” I hiss.

But at the same time, he’s also the best. And I’ve never been so conflicted in my life. I’m not supposed to like Grady Parker, and he’s not supposed to like me. Never. Ever. This feeling is not natural. It feels wrong.

But it feels right at the same time, and I’m a huge muddle of confusion by the time the service is over. I can barely put two words together as we walk out to his Jeep and get in it together. Every eye in the church watches us leave, like we’re a circus side-show. Grandma waves her hand, grinning from ear to ear.

“Why is everybody looking at us?” I ask Grady.

He grins. “I think they like my Jeep.”

7

Grady

“What are we doing?” Evie asks as I pull into the diner on the corner. They are famous for their sausage gravy and grits, as well as their clean restrooms. Seriously, I think you could eat off the floors in the bathrooms.

“I need to change my clothes,” I say as I pull into a parking spot.

“Oh, good idea,” she says. She lifts her bag from the floor and sets it in her lap. “I don’t want to stack hay in a skirt, but I was willing to do it.”

“Well, I’m not messing up my church clothes. I can wear these at least four more Sundays if I can keep them clean.”

She scrunches up her face. “Ew.”

“What? It’s not like I sweat in church.”