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I place my hand near hers, inching it closer. “I don’t believe you.”

She won’t look at me. “That’s your choice, I guess.”

Chuckling, I allow my fingertips to brush against hers. “Come on. What did you used to imagine about me?”

She remains silent as I trace the back of her hand with my index finger, deliberately sliding up the length of her forearm now accessible without her coat on. Goosebumps pop up along her skin.

“I...” Juliet began. I dip my head until she meets my gaze and begins again. “I was completely obsessed with you, Archer Kade.”

I’m weightless. “Obsessed, huh?”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice airy. “I used to daydream you’d push past my dad at the door and demand a date with me because you couldn’t stop thinking about me after my horse ride at the stables. I dreamed of you riding up on your horse to my high school, tipping your hat through the classroom window, and making all the other girls jealous that I won your attention. Then I imagined you writing me secret notes because Dad wouldn’t let you get close to me, so you’d slip them beneath my door or hide them in a secret location for me to find later on.” She shakes her head. “So, yes. I was obsessed. Embarrassingly obsessed.”

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so good. I had no idea she felt this much for me. I’ve got a feeling that I could conquer the world. Like I could win over her dad. Like I could grab her right this second, pull her in my arms, press my lips to hers, and kiss the daylights out of her.

When’s the next rodeo? Sign me up for all the bull riding if it means Juliet still feels the same way about me.

“So, there you go,” she says, her eyes lingering on my fingers that have moved back to trace her hand. “Are you gonna make fun of me now for the rest of my life?”

“No chance. It makes me feel better now about my feelings for you.”

Juliet

I can’t believe I just admitted all of that to Archer. But it might be worth it with the way he’s looking at me right now.

“And what exactly are your feelings?” I ask nonchalantly, as if his answer isn’t going to determine my mood for the rest of possibly forever.

His figure commands the space around us, making the front room look smaller than I’ve ever seen it. Dad’s not exactly small, but there’s something different about Archer, something magnetic. I feel drawn to him like a damsel in distress, ready to be protected from whatever might be marginally dangerous.

And you know what? I don’t even care if I am a damsel.

Protect me all you want, He-Man.

“I think you know what my feelings are.”

I swallow. The look he’s giving me might just drive me mad. I’m glad he pulled away from the kiss we might’ve had in the back of his truck. I wasn’t in my right frame of mind then.

But I’m starting to wonder...Am I ever in my right mind around him? How could I be when I willfully admit to obsessing over him? How could I be when I keep drawing closer to him like a moth to the flame?

No, like a moth to the flipping sun. That’s how hot he is right now with his hat in his right hand, his left still on mine, his hair fluffed up and begging to be played with. His Carhart’s open to reveal his dark shirt beneath—and beneath that are those abs I finally got to enjoy when I dunked him two days before.

“Still,” I say, struggling to keep track of our conversation, “I think I’d like to be absolutely certain what you’re feeling because I just revealed something super humiliating, and a little comfort would go a long way right now.”

“I’ll make it clear, then.” His eyes pour into mine. “I’m feeling pretty obsessed with you, too.”

Oh, if only that were true.

“Please,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but I know you’re not like Teenage Juliet.”

“Teenage Juliet?”

“That’s what I call myself to differentiate how I feel about you now and how I felt about you then.”

Amusement dances in his eyes as he takes a step closer. I shift my feet. I liked it better with the chair between us. Without it, I feel like a captured lion who’s been offered a chance at freedom. If Archer presents another chance at a kiss...I might leap toward it.

“Any chance Teenage Juliet’s feelings could influence Adult Juliet’s?”

“I dunno,” is all I can muster.