“Both your parents are home. I can leave so you can let them know about the whole forbidden love with Jack’s best friend thing.” Her whisper was loud and made my body stiffen with tension. I did a quick scan of the yard to see where my parents were.
“We wanted to do it together. Since we know it’s not going to go well, we wanted to do it—”
“PJ,” Riley started before swinging her legs around the edge and standing. “I love you, but I can always tell when you’re lying. What are you going to do if you get caught?” She tapped her foot on the concrete. “He’s only across the street. I’m impressed your parents don’t have a clue yet.”
“They do,” I groaned and let my head fall back. “Well, they know something is going on; they just don’t think it has anything to do with Dylan. They keep asking questions about staying and trying to make me tell them where I’ve been without actually asking me.” I covered my eyes with my hand and shook my head. “I’m a chickenshit, okay? There I said it.”
“Admitting it is the first step.” We shared a laugh—a sad laugh at this sad situation.
“Thanks for running over, Dylan.” My dad’s booming voice filled the space before I sputtered a cough on a mouthful of water. Riley and I met each other’s widened eyes. After all these weeks of wanting to get it over with, my heart jackhammered against my chest as if it were trying to escape. I wanted to tell everyone before we got caught, but the only words I could think of werenot now. Chickenshit, indeed.
“Hey, ladies.” My father gave us both a big smile as Dylan trailed behind him. My gaze slid to his before he gave me a slight shake of his head. My gut collapsed in both relief and disappointment.
“The damn air conditioning keeps leaking and turning off, and I forgot we have a contractor in the family.” Dad beamed at Dylan, and I was sick. My stomach turned at my father referring to my secret boyfriend as “family.”
“Dylan is going to fix it for us.” He jabbed Dylan’s shoulder. “Don’t mind us.”
“No worries.” I smiled big to hide the panic.
Dylan nodded a hello to Riley and shot me a quick wistful glance.
“Hey,” Dylan’s tone was casual to anyone who didn’t know what was going on between us. I heard, and felt, the rasp on the edge of his voice. His eyes lingered on my strings of my bikini top before darting back to the ground.
“Hey,” I croaked, my reply catching in my throat when all I wanted to do was kiss him hello. It was a three-second, half-assed acknowledgment of each other’s presence, but it made my breath halt all the same.
I watched as he followed my father, careful not to let my jaw drop or my tongue hang out of my mouth. A threadbare white T-shirt stuck to his torso, stretching and clinging to his broad chest from the sweltering heat. His strong fingers wrapped around the handle of his toolbox, the same ones that were deep inside me last night, twisting and turning until I came apart. He laughed, hearty and loud, at something my father said, and my eyes landed on his mouth. My hand wiped down my neck, my skin remembering the scratch of the bristles of his beard and the silk of his tongue.
“Jesus Christ, PJ,” Riley whispered. “I felt like a creeper watching that.” She waved her hand in front of her face as if she was fanning herself.
“Watching what? He said hello and he’s here to help my dad.”
“That look of longing, the simmering stare that said I want to ravage you on the grass next to the basil garden.Hot damn, how can no one see it?”
I stood, shaking my head. “You need to cool off.”
“Well, let’s hope Dylan can fix the air conditioner so I can, too,” Mom said from behind us. “We tried to get a repairman here, but they didn’t have an opening for another week. It’s lucky Dylan is across the street.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Riley gave me a side-eye that I prayed Mom didn’t notice. “I’m going to head home. My shift starts at five. Nice to see you, Mrs. Garcia.” Riley waved before making her way out of our yard. She gave me a cursory glance before walking out the gate.
“Something wrong, PJ?” Mom went to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear and I flinched on instinct. I always told Mom everything, even about my feelings for Dylan. Telling her I waswithDylan didn’t come so easy. I wasn’t sure how to even start.
“Nope, all good!” The pursing of my mother’s lips was more telling than I’d liked. Maybe I wasn’t so stealthy, after all.
“You can talk to me, you know?” Mom whispered. “Maybe tomorrow you cannotrun to … wherever you’re going … after school, and we can go somewhere and have a chat? What do you think?”
I met my mother’s kind but worried eyes. I’d confided in her with everything my entire life; why couldn’t I tell her this? I nodded, whispering asure, but not meaning it.
“All fixed!” Dad bellowed as he came closer. “This guy is a genius.” He motioned to Dylan behind him with his thumb.
Dylan scratched the back of his head after making quick eye contact with my parents. An uneasy laugh stumbled from his lips.
“Easy thing. Patric—PJ is the genius.” My cheeks heated as I got lost in his nervous but heart-stopping smile. Dad didn’t notice his little slip, but Mom squinted as she looked between us.
“A genius that’s staying onthiscoast.” Dad kissed the top of my head before making his way over to my mother.
“I heard.” Dylan’s voice was tense, and I wondered if anyone picked up on it besides me. “That’s great.” He cleared his throat and grabbed his tools. “I better get going. Nice to see you guys.” Dylan left our yard in a rush, leaving me feeling all kinds of hollow.
He’d been at our house hundreds of times and had an easy rapport with both of my parents. Couldn’t it still be that way after they found out we were together? I hated that we had to pretend to be distant friends when we were so much more. What we had was wonderful and my every dream come true, but pretending like it didn’t exist—likewedidn’t exist—made it feel cheap and dirty.
