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I sputter, choking on my water. “Not cool, Lindsey,” I say, putting the glass down. I clear my throat. “What are you even talking about?”

Lindsey teases that she talked to Katie, who told her that Ryan said Dare hung out with me at the lake the other night. I have to take a deep breath because I can’t believe he told someone about it. That has to mean it wasn’t just nothing to him, right?

My sister can obviously tell that my thoughts are racing in circles. “What happened at the lake, Lev?” she asks, playfully wiggling her eyebrows before taking another bite of her dinner and chewing dramatically.

“Nothing happened at the lake, Linds,” I answer, my voice clipped. She stares at me with a raised eyebrow, urging me to go on and unfazed by my tone. “I texted him to see if he wanted to meet me there for dinner. I grabbed some sandwiches from Hal’s, and we met on the dock off of Spruce Street. We ate and talked about his work and stuff. And then he left.”

“He left, or you both left? Like it was over and he left, or you pissed him off and he left?” She looks confused.

A sudden burst of frustration hits me. The same frustration I felt the night at the lake. It comes out in my answer to Lindsey. “He left. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but we were talking and eating, and he just packed up his stuff and was like, see ya. Not a word since. I’ve texted him like five times, and I haven’t heard anything from him since.”

“Hmmm.” Lindsey’s brow furrows. “What were you talking about? Did you bring up Na—”

“No, I didn’t bring up Nate,” I cut in. I drop my hand onto the table, and it hits the surface a lot harder than I wanted it to, causing the silverware to rattle. I wince. “Sorry.” I don’t know why I’m getting so irritated about this.

She sighs loudly, rolling her eyes.

“Sorry,” I repeat. “We were talking about his work, and I told him I bet he was good at what he did, and he got all weird and left.”

She picks up her water and takes a sip. “That’s strange, no?”

I give her a look confirming that yes, I do think it’s strange.

“Okay. Maybe he just got uncomfortable with something that was said, or maybe he remembered he needed to do something, or maybe being around you is too weird or difficult for him. You bring a lot of . . . stuff back to him, you know?” She pauses a minute. “Lev, do you like him?” Her eyes soften as she looks at me.

I run my hand over my face. “I don’t know, Linds. I’m so intrigued by him. He’s different from anyone I’ve ever been interested in. He’s the polar opposite of Seth, and just by his style and looks alone, he pulls me in. You know the guys I dated were not all dark and goth and . . . whatever he is. Seth was always crisp slacks and polos, and the guys before him were very similar. Dare is so different.”

She continues with a sigh as she flops back into her chair. “Just be careful, please. I know you get mad at me when I say this, but you don’t need to save him. I love you, and I know we can both see his pain. But if you get to know him better, do it for the right reasons.”

Julian the server comes by then with the check and puts it on the table, eyes only on my sister. He smiles and taps the black server book. “Let me know if you’re interested in going out sometime. My number is on the check.”

Lindsey’s cheeks burn again, turning about three shades redder than normal. I chuckle and reach for the bill.

A few minutes later, after we made it back to the car and buckled up, I finally pick up our conversation again.

“I literally saw him a few times and texted him a bit,” I say. “There’s nothing going on with us.”

She nods and leans her head back against the headrest. “Okay.”

And that’s the end of the conversation. I wish it was that easy for it to be out of my head, but as we get to our parents’ house and settle into watching a movie, Dare’s black nail polish, emerald-green eyes, and tantalizing lip ring keep passing through my head. By the time I get home late that night, I’m antsy and restless. We’ve had such little contact and spent so little time together, yet I feel like Dare already has a hold on me.

And I can say with certainty now that I don’t want him to let go.

Chapter 18

Darian

Dear Mr. Darian Archer,

Thank you for your submission to . . .

We appreciate your ideas . . .

Unfortunately, they are not exactly what we were looking for . . .

We have decided to forgo the potential bid from you. We hope to work with you more in the future.

My eyes scan down the screen, and my stomach sinks. Yeah, that’s it. I didn’t get the contract. Nothing more I can do.