Page 67 of Wrecked

I check my hair—a super-cute French braid—and then skip down the stairs. I stop at the bottom landing. Adam is standing in the living room, holding David Wooderson. The calico is purring into Adam’s palm as he rubs the cat’s orange coat.

“Good talk?” he asks, his mouth tipped up on the side.

I thumb up the stairs. “You know, just your standard sex chat. You enjoy holding my mom’s pussy?”

Adam’s hand stops immediately. Mr. Wooderson casts an evil glare up at him.

My dad walks in with a tin and a thermos. “One for the road, and the taffy is for the crew.”

Letting Mr. Wooderson jump down, Adam takes the tin. “I love Leah’s taffy.”

Dad’s face lights up. “You gave him some of your taffy?”

“Letting him into my kitchen,” I say, grabbing the thermos.

Adam clears his throat. “That is not a euphemism, sir. I haven’t gone anywhere near her…kitchen.” His tone is of the utmost respect.

My dad and I stare back at Adam and blink at him.

“We’re gonna go now.” I take the tin of taffy out of his hand and lead him out the door. “Bye, Bob.”

“Good-bye, Mr. Paige,” Adam says.

I release his hand and skip down the stairs and into the pickup truck. Adam isn’t far behind me.

When he slides into the driver’s seat, he puts his cell in one of the cup holders. Then, he turns the ignition and says, “Why do you call your parents by their first names?”

Pulling the seat belt across my lap, I answer, “It started out as a joke and just stuck.”

We pull away from the curb and down the street.

He lets out a low grunt. “I’m surprised. Your parents always seem so proper. Calling them by their first names, mentioning sex…it’s different from how I expected your family to be.”

“You’re right, and you’re wrong. My parents are very like-minded in their morals. They would never be unfaithful, and they taught us all to be our best and work hard for what we wanted in this world. They are also honest people. They don’t hide behind the idea that their kids are perfect, and they know we’re going to make mistakes. Well, maybe not Emma.”

He grins at that statement. “She is a bit of a Goody Two-shoes.”

“Says the Boy Scout.” I lean in with my elbow on the console.

“Touché.” He smirks.

I kick off my shoes and curl my feet onto the seat. “We joke about things in our house. I think it’s their way of keeping a close ear on what we’re up to, and it’s probably why Luke, Emma, and I are so close for siblings. Even though Luke’s away at college most of the year, he tells my mom and Emma everything.”

“Not you?” He places his elbow next to mine.

“I get an earful, but Emma and Luke are extra close. He’s her baby. Seriously, when she was five, she told everyone he was her son. My parents thought it was adorable.”

He laughs. It’s a thick and rich sound. “What about you? Who do you call when you have a problem?”

“My dad. Bob’s my guy.”

His elbow is rubbing against mine, and it’s ridiculous how this teeny-tiny bit of contact is making me feel. We enter onto the highway, and I look down at my black nails. Yes, it’s a dark color for the summer, but I felt like putting on something dramatic this week.

My eyes roll toward him in interest. “I heard you took Jessica out.”

He just nods. I shouldn’t be surprised that I am getting zero intel out of him. It’s for the best.

A car swerves past us, cutting us off. Adam grips the steering wheel and quickly jerks it to the left to avoid getting hit. I place my feet on the ground and grip the door handle. His cell phone falls out of the cup holder and onto the floor by my sneakers.