She teased a finger over the edge of the quilt, not meeting my eyes. "I don't know. I don't remember it well. There was a lot of beer and shots involved.Badbeer.Badshots. I just remember you were gone a few days after that party."
This conversation was like waiting for a bus in the rain. Even if I leaned away from it, even if I hitched up my collar, I was still getting uncomfortably soaked. And I should've known not to wait for a bus in the rain, but now that I was here and wet, there was no sense turning back. "I decided to leave town after that night. I knew I wanted to go, and I knew that was the right time."
"Are you trying to say that was a product of me—what? Forgetting you behind a barn when I was young and drunk? That's why you went to Boston and you're still recovering from your Freedom Trail nightmares?"
"No," I replied. "I'd wanted to go. I'd wanted to go as much as you wanted the same thing."
A fast, breathy laugh shook her shoulders. "You're saying that me forgetting you behind the Woodmoores' barn gave you the push you needed to get the hell out of this town?"
I was quick to reply, "No." Then, "Maybe. I don't know."
Brooke turned over to face me, a gently smug smile pulling at her lips. "You're saying I wounded your tender teenage heart."
I stared at her, torn between coming in from the downpour and staying out here until I caught my death. "You did," I agreed. "I'd thought it meant something to you. I thought that one counted."
"Why? Because it took place behind a barn? After the official end of high school?" She wrapped her arms around my torso, pressed her nipples to my chest. "Or was there some other reason you wanted it to matter, Jed?"
I seized her waist, bringing us as close as we could get without a condom. "I was eighteen. My only reasons were 'because I want to' and 'because someone told me not to do that.'"
"Those are the same reasons anyone kissed me in high school, regardless of whether I wasperforming." She dropped her head to my shoulder. "And then you took off on a journey around the world with your wounded heart in tow."
"Did it mean anything to you?"
She smiled down at my chest, brushed her hand over the ink on my arm and shoulder. I didn't expect her to respond. I figured she'd change the topic or deflect the question back on me, pick at my desire for youthful validation. But then, "You know what's really interesting? You thought I blew you off. You've spent all these years being bitter—"
"I haven't spent any years on bitterness. I left town. I got over it."
She pressed her lips to my sternum, humming. "Yeah, that's why you brought it up now."
"I brought it up," I replied, my tone growing impatient, "because your hair is everywhere and your bare ass is in my bed and I get to bring up whatever the hell I want under those conditions."
"Like I said, bitter." For that, I gave her backside a squeeze. "You thought I abandoned you behind a barn and—for a period of time—you had all these feelings about it. Feelings for which you blamed me." She burrowed against me, her head on my chest, her arms tight around my body, her face angled away from me. "And I thought we'd started something that night, but then you were gone."
I was wet from head to toe now, rainwater filling my shoes and blurring my vision. But it was possible I wasn't the only one waiting for this bus. "What do you mean?"
"I thought it meant something to you," Brooke said to my skin. "For the life of me, I can't remember what happened after I left you behind that barn but I thought…I thought it was real. You said you'd wanted to kiss me all night but had no intention of doing it in front of any of those assholes from our class. That was some advanced seduction technique, as far as high school went. I remember thinking I was going to have one of those glowy summer romances filled with beach blankets and ice cream cones and sunburned shoulders. I thought you were different, Jed, and then you were gone without a word."
I didn't know how we wandered into the land where all the bullshit fell away to reveal pure vulnerability, but I wasn't turning back yet. "I woundedyourtender teenage heart."
When I brushed her hair away from her forehead, she glanced up at me. There was no smug smile, no contemptuous glare. It was Brooke, eyes wide and lips parted, free from all the space and show she put between herself and the world.
"Is that what I did, Bam?"
"A bit, yeah." She blinked away, pulled a small smile. "But what did we know back then? What did we know about anything?"
I chuckled. "We knew nothing."
"Not sure about that," she replied. "You knew you wanted to kiss me and you knew you wanted it to count."
"Still do." I traced the line of her lips, her jaw. "Do you still want a movie montage summer? It sounds like I owe you one."
"I'm more careful about sunburns now, but there's room on my beach blanket."
"Are you going to forget me behind a barn?"
"I will not," she replied. "Are you going to flee the state?"
"Only if you're coming with me," I said.
