Tangle (Dogwood Lane 2)

“Is it something you have to think about? Or do you know?”

He lowers his face and kisses my head, letting his lips linger. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” I fist his shirt in my hand and steady myself. Be strong. “But we’ll talk about it later. After the party?”

He kisses me again. “Yeah. We’ll talk tonight.”

I fight a lump in my throat as I pull back. He gives me a soft smile that, if I thought about it long enough, could be defined as sad. Or foreboding. Or the exact opposite spirit from what the bamboo was supposed to deliver.

Shoving it out of my brain, I focus on getting through the next couple of hours. At least here, I’m surrounded by my people. That’s good.

I take his hand, his palm enveloping mine, and start toward the house. “I want you to know that this party won’t be anything like your dad’s. So temper your expectations, please.”

He laughs, squeezing my hand. “Most parties aren’t like my dad’s because most men aren’t married to a Meredith.”

“I thought you and Jake put the party on for your father?” I ask.

“Oh, we did. Just like Dad had the house here built for her but she sent drawings and designs down to incorporate. Meredith has a way of getting what she wants.”

“I respect that.”

“Trust me—if I could figure it out, I’d do it too.”

I grin to myself. If he only knew how much he could get away with just by flicking that smirk or touching an arm. It’s probably for the best he doesn’t know.

We take the steps. I give a courtesy knock and then walk on in.

Dane, Neely, Matt, Penn, and Susan are standing in the kitchen. Pizza boxes from Mucker’s are open in front of them along with water bottles and two-liter containers of soda. Mia’s, Keyarah’s, and Madison’s laughter filters downstairs as their feet pound on the floors above.

“Hey,” I say as we enter.

“How are you, Haley?” Susan walks over to us, a little shell-shocked as she takes in Trevor. “I’m Susan.”

“Hi. I’m Trevor Kelly.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Trevor smiles and walks on by to say hello to the guys. Susan mouths, “Oh, my God,” as he passes. All I can do is giggle because I get it. I feel the same way.

“Want some pizza?” Neely asks. “We have all kinds. More kids will be here in about thirty minutes. We thought we’d get here first so we can actually hear each other talk.”

I grab a slice, even though my stomach threatens to reject it just from smelling it. Trevor comes up to my side and pours himself a glass of soda.

“What’s up, Matt?” Trevor asks, screwing the top back on the two-liter bottle.

“Not much.”

“I was telling my brother about the deck you built. He had me grab some pictures to take back with me.”

I avoid Neely’s gaze and take a bite of pizza instead.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest, my blood rocking through my body. He’s leaving. That’s one variable down.

“Hey, Trevor, come back here,” Dane says, opening the back door. “If you like to fish, you have to see this pond. Completely stocked with catfish. Don’t tell my lady, but this is the reason I really wanted to buy the house.”

“I love to fish . . .” Trevor follows Dane outside, Matt on their tail.

As soon as the door closes, I shake my head. “No,” I say, waving off the questions Neely and Susan are poised to ask. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Has he still not talked to you?” Neely asks.

“We’re supposed to talk about it after we leave here.” I feel my energy fade into the room. “I don’t know what to think.”

“But Nashville isn’t far. You could totally see each other on the weekends,” Susan offers. “Who really sees their guy during the week, anyway?”

I look from one to the other, to an unusually quiet Penn standing by the door.

“Yeah, but I don’t think that’s the problem,” I say. “It’s more than that.”

“Maybe he’s just unsure how to handle it,” Susan suggests.

“Maybe.” I realize I forgot the flowers in Trevor’s truck. “Hey, I brought you something, Neely. I’ll be right back.”

I step outside, grateful for the quiet. All their questions—spoken and unspoken—overwhelm me because this is not up to me. If it were up to me, I’d figure it out with Trevor because I really like him.

A lot.

More than I’ve liked anyone and in a different way.

In a better way.

In a way that probably doesn’t matter.

My feet slow as I realize all the time we’ve spent together meant something different to me. He might like me, but he was just having fun. I was, too, but I did what I always do . . . start falling in love.