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“How much did you drink?”

“Are you going to tell me what you heard my dad saying on the phone?”

“You’re justified in hating him,” she replied.

He made a grunt of acknowledgment.

“Do I need to take you to the hospital?”

Taylor laughed loudly and slouched further. He rolled his head to look at her, more than look, a long stare that crept underneath her skin, and not in an unpleasant way. “What are you thinking?” she asked.

Taylor sucked in a long breath. “That he loves you.”

“What? Who?”

“You know who.” He turned his gaze away.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Dave doesn’t love me, and we barely even talk.”

“Why is that?” He then answered his own question, “Never mind, I already know. I have to listen to him. Every fucking day.”

“What!” She nearly floored the pedal and bit her cheek. “We are—not. He’s lying!”

He shoved the heels of his hands into his eyes, and his voice was small. “I really think he loves you.”

“Knock it off! He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t even know me.”

“Do you love him?” He sounded like he was going to cry.

“Taylor.” She glanced out the driver’s window to hide her wet eyes.

“Do you?” he repeated dropping his hands.

“No. I don’t know.”

“So you might.”

“Please,” she whispered.

“I’d know right away if I loved someone.”

She sighed, exasperated, and swiped her eyes. “That’s not love, that’s infatuation.”

“What’s the difference?”

Analise didn’t answer, wanting him to drop the whole thing. She glanced at the speedometer to make sure she was staying under the limit, then registered the clock. It was one in the morning.

“I’m taking Fiona to Homecoming,” he said.

“I know. Missy told me.”

“You and I will be in the same group. All the seniors on the soccer team wanted to go together.”

Analise chewed on this piece of information that Dave had yet to share. In Dave’s defense, it’s possible he did tell her. Her mind wandered elsewhere in his presence.

“Renting a limo,” Taylor continued, circling a hand, “dinner at Kincaids, fucking Kincaids. And then someone’s cabin for the weekend. I can’t remember whose. Like it matters. Probably Conner’s.” He sniffed. “For the record, you deserve better than some guy who’s slept with half the school.”

“Why did you get him to ask me out?”