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Prologue

The summer before

Rory stepped onto the back porch and slid the screen door closed before scanning the crowd. She found Jay leaning against the railing, watching as he took a pull of his beer.

She brushed her fingers through her thick, mahogany hair and approached him, her stomach doing somersaults at the sight of the smile that curled up his left cheek as he looked out in the distance.

She slowed to a stop. “Hey, have you seen Melanie? I can’t find her anywhere.”

Jay finally glanced over at her, his expression sly and half-dazed from wherever he’d just pulled his thoughts from. “Nah, been a little distracted.”

Rory raised an eyebrow in his direction and leaned against the wooden railing next to him, purposely brushing her forearm against his. “Oh yeah? With what?”

Jay ticked his head toward the lawn, motioning toward a group of girls talking animatedly in a circle, swaying on their feet as they took swigs from a plastic green cup.

Her stomach clenched at the sight of them. She hastily shifted her gaze in Jay’s direction, noticing that he was back to watching them with a smirk, like he was on the prowl.

She sighed audibly. “Let me guess,” she started. “The blonde one, tall, wearing a shift dress that was probably meant to be a tank top.”

“It’s working for her,” Jay said, his voice thick and devious.

“Typical,” she mumbled.

Jay turned, eyes wide. “Come again?”

Crap, she thought to herself. She must have said it louder than she intended, and now Jay was staring at her with that expression he always got when he was raring for a fight. His lips were pinched together in a tight line. The toffee color in his eyes completely disappeared as his pupils dilated, leaving them jet-black, almost onyx, as he stared straight at her.

Usually, when she saw Jay like this, she would try to brush it off with a joke, watching his pupils return to their normal size as he barked out a laugh. With the two of them, it was always teasing and joking and sword fighting with cotton candy–colored spoons at Scoops By The Sea, the ice cream shop they both worked at during their summers in Haverport.

But right now, she didn’t have the energy to fake it. She was angry at him.

Rory squared her shoulders in his direction, facing him full-on, and crossed her arms. “You just have a type, that’s all.”

“Is that wrong?” he snipped at her.

“It’s unoriginal,” she bit back, cocking her hip.

Jay took the last pull of his beer, balancing the empty bottle on the railing without looking back at her. “What does that mean?”

“Your interests just fit the stereotype perfectly,” she responded, the words flying out of her. She was two drinks in at this point, her filter completely gone. And she didn’t care. “Tall, blonde, thin, typically in some kind of skimpy outfit that shows off a sizeable rack.”

“Things you clearly don’t have,” he responded with an icy tone.

She froze.

“Finally, been looking for you guys everywhere.”

Tyler, their friend and Scoops coworker, approached the two of them from behind, a plastic water bottle clutched in his hand. “Ry, have you had any water yet? Found this in the fridge, miraculously unopened.”

She hardly registered what he’d said, her eyes still focused on Jay, who was now glaring at her.

Tyler slowed. “Yo…is everything good?”

“Apologize,” Rory whispered.

“Ry, what’s going on—”

“Apologize,” she repeated. “You have no right commenting on my body.”