“Where’s your car?” I suddenly asked, wondering how he got to the party.
“At home. I rode with Josh.”
“We could call someone for a ride,” I suggested.
It was understood there would be no calling of parents. And I wouldn’t even consider calling my sister. Not that she would answer. If she wasn’t in the shower crying, she’d be buried in a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and ignoring her phone. Unless her ex called. Then she would answer to scream at him. Obviously he rarely called.
“Do you know anyone who wasn’t at that party?” he asked.
I thought for a moment and shook my head. Farah was my only friend who wasn’t there, and she was in Austin visiting her dad.
Silence fell between us. I sent him several wary glances as I kept pace with him, my mind drifting back to that closet. Mortification washed over me. Had I actually bit his lip?
My heart was still pounding, and I suspected it had nothing to do with our mad sprint. I wiped sweaty palms on the sides of my jeans.
He finally spoke, and it seemed like even the night stopped. The wind died and crickets fell silent all around us. Or maybe it was just the rush of blood in my ears, overpowering everything else.
“Why did you follow me into the closet?”
And there it was. I felt like I was standing under a spotlight. No hiding or pretending. Nowhere to run.
I moistened my lips. “I stopped Ava and—”
“Why?” he interrupted. “Why did you stop her?”
“She’s friends with Flor.” It seemed the most obvious thing. But then I guess it wasn’t obvious or he wouldn’t have been so willing to lock lips with Ava.
He stopped and faced me on the sidewalk. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Do I really need to explain the nuances of girl code to you? Flor was right there in the room.” I waved as though demonstrating something. “She saw you go in the closet and then Ava was about to follow you. Does your first rebound girl have to be a friend of Flor’s?”
Zach stared at me for a long moment, and then he did the unbelievable. He laughed.
I propped my hands on my hips. “What’s so funny?”
“This.” He waved between us. “You getting all self-righteous after you kissed me in that closet and Flor is your best friend.”
Heat erupted in my face. “You kissed me.”
He stopped laughing and looked at me. “And you kissed me back.”
I shook my head, hating that bit of truth. “You . . . surprised me is all.”
He lifted a single eyebrow. “I thought you were Ava.”
I snorted and shrugged. “That much was clear. It was a mistake. You thought I was Ava. I was surprised.”
“Surprised because I was kissing you?” There was a strange light in his eyes, and I felt pretty certain he was mocking me. His eyes seemed wider, watching me with an intensity I had never seen from him before.
“Yes. Of course.”
He angled his head like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. “So surprised girls kiss guys back? When they get kissed? Just asking for clarification.”
I hated where this conversation was going. There was no outcome where I didn’t end up exposed and looking stupid. I shook my head and opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what was going to come out. I didn’t have a plan. Which probably meant I should say nothing at all.
Suddenly there was a chirp of a siren as a police car pulled up alongside us. I let out a relieved breath, and that was all kinds of messed up. I welcomed getting grilled by the police as long as I got to avoid an uncomfortable conversation with Zach?
The officer behind the wheel put the car in park and stepped out. “Evening, kids.”
I felt myself wither inside as the man’s sharp gaze fell on us. Please, please, please. Don’t have him take us to the police station. Or call our parents. Or both.
Zach dropped back beside me and took my hand again. I let myself have that comfort. It didn’t feel weird at all right then. Not when I was massively freaking out inside.
“Evening, sir,” Zach returned. He was always great with parents. Adults loved him. It could be his manners or his good-boy looks. Or maybe the fact that he was a local football star. This was Texas, after all. That always mattered to people. No one cared that I got straight As, but every member of the city council knew and cared that Zach Tucker could kick a ball from fifty yards.
“Little late to be roaming the streets, isn’t it?”
“We were just on a walk,” Zach replied, his voice even and easy. I didn’t know that he could sound so normal in a tense situation like this.
The officer glanced at me, then at our clasped hands. I forced a smile.
“You two didn’t happen to be at a party a few blocks over from here, did you?”
Zach was quick with his response. “A party? No, sir.”
It was impressive. Zach actually sounded bewildered at the question. Apparently tonight was a night of realizations for me. Zach could both kiss and lie with astounding skill. I’d have to remember that.
A second officer emerged from the passenger seat and called out over the roof of the car. “You Zach Tucker?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The second officer was younger. Maybe in his thirties. He looked fit, and I figured he must be the one that chased down suspects while the other one radioed in for backup. He motioned at Zach and addressed his partner. “He’s the kicker for Madison.” He leveled his stare on Zach again. “Hell of a game tonight. That was some field goal in the third quarter.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Of course. Football.
The officer gestured toward the back seat. “Why don’t we give you and your girlfriend a ride home?” Even hearing myself mistakenly being called his girlfriend was jarring. “It’s late,” he continued, “and everyone is rounding up kids from that party a few blocks over. Would hate to get you thrown in with that bunch.”
Because he was Zach Tucker and no cop would ever dare bust him.
Poor Jenna and Flor. Hopefully they got out in time.
“Thank you, sir.” Both officers lowered back inside the car. Zach opened the back door for me, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.
I slid into the back seat, grateful to end the handholding.
Except when he slid in beside me, he picked my hand up again. I glared at him and tried to tug it free. He clung to it and shook his head once at me. What was the deal with holding my hand? Clearly he thought it was important for the sake of these two cops. I didn’t see why it mattered, but I gave up and let him keep my hand.
I leaned back and tried to relax as Zach directed them to our street, talking football with them like we weren’t sitting in the back of a police car. His thumb brushed a small circle against the inside of my wrist and I fought back a little shiver. I was sure it was unintentional. A knee-jerk reflex for him. He flirted with a lot of girls. Touched them too. This was probably just a result of holding hands with the opposite sex.
My mind strayed ahead . . . to the next couple of minutes, when I would pull up to my parents’ house in a cop car. It was going to be awkward. If Mom was home already, she was going to flip. I considered various explanations in preparation, hoping to come up with the one that would get me in the least trouble.
They were just giving us a ride. It wasn’t as though I’d gotten arrested. I reminded myself that I had nothing to feel guilty about.
Nothing except a kiss.
The police cruiser pulled up in front of my house, and right away I saw that Mom’s car wasn’t in the driveway. They’d taken her car to dinner. My shoulders sagged. I might get out of this without getting grounded for life.
“Thanks,” Zach said, even as my hand flew to the door handle.
“You both live here?” the driver asked.
Zach pointed to his house. “I live there.”
“Next door to your girlfriend?” The officer in the passenger seat chuckled and
shared a look with his partner. “That’s convenient.”
His partner shared his laughter and said something about us being careful not to get into too much trouble.
My face burned. Zach’s gaze caught mine but he didn’t comment.
I looked away and stepped out into the night, glad to be out of the car. Glad to be home. Glad to be five seconds from escaping Zach.
I hurried to my front door as Zach exchanged a few more words with the cops.
I tried the knob, but it was locked. Damn it. I knew Chloe was home. She never went anywhere, and it was well past Mia’s bedtime. I turned and went for the fake rock in the front flower bed that hid a key.
“Willa.”
I ignored Zach, searching for the rock and then finding it. I flipped it over and slid open the secret compartment that concealed the key.
He said my name again and I looked up.
“Are you mad?” he asked as he stopped before me.
“No. Why would I be mad?” I’d simply had enough mortification for one night.
“Because you’re practically running to get away from me.”
“I just want to forget about tonight.” I didn’t want to continue where we left off before the cops showed up. I didn’t want to talk about the closet.
He buried his hands in his front pockets, staring at me mildly. “The kiss.” He said it like it was nothing, and I guess that was good. Even if it hurt a little.
“Can we just forget it ever happened?”
He stared at me for a long beat. “Yeah. Sure.”
“And Flor . . .” God, it made me feel awful to have to ask him. “Can we not . . .”
“Flor doesn’t have to know,” he finished with a nod of agreement.
“Good.” Great. Maybe this night wouldn’t convert into disaster.
I should have stopped babbling right then, but it was such a relief. I felt like I’d just dodged a bullet. My friendships with Zach and Flor would remain intact. “It will be like it never happened. It didn’t mean anything.”
I turned around to unlock the door, my promise to text him later on the tip of my tongue, when he said my name again.
“Willa?”
“Yeah.” I turned around with a smile on my face, still so relieved, so happy, so grateful that things hadn’t been ruined. Nothing was broken.
Nothing had to change.
He kissed me without warning. I didn’t move, too stunned as his hand cupped the back of my head.
Zach was kissing me on my front porch.
He broke away, his lips a hairsbreadth from mine as he whispered, in a voice that I had never heard out of him before, “I feel like I should confess I knew it was you in that closet the moment I touched you.” His voice was growly and deep and sent all kinds of shivers down my spine. His fingers grazed my cheek. “And that was before we kissed.”
Before we kissed?
I jerked like I’d been slapped. My stomach plummeted, feeling betrayed and elated at the same time. How two such emotions could coexist I didn’t know.
“You said you thought I was Ava,” I accused, my breath fanning his lips, and I hoped, irrationally in that moment, that my breath didn’t smell bad.
“For about five seconds I did.”
His words echoed inside my kiss-addled head, gradually penetrating. And that was before we kissed.
How could he have meant to kiss me? Me!
“Okay. But how . . . why did you kiss me if you knew it was me?” That was the sticking point. This was me. Willa Evans. Girl next door. Orchestra geek who didn’t even have her own car. Who didn’t know the first thing about football. While the two of us had been friends forever, most of his buddies still didn’t know who I was or say hello to me in the halls.
“I wanted to.”
I stared at him. “You wanted to,” I echoed. Well, that explained absolutely nothing. And changed everything.
He had meant to kiss me.
I didn’t understand it. Was I just convenient? A warm and willing mouth in a dark closet?
I wanted to think he wouldn’t treat me—us—so casually. I wanted to believe our friendship mattered too much for him to do that. “I’m not one of your groupies, Zach.”
He snorted, and his fingers flexed against the back of my head, sliding against my hair . . . and that was distracting. “You don’t need to tell me that. You don’t even come to half my games.”
“I have things to do,” I shot back, feeling sulky.
“Right.” He smiled at me, revealing those beautiful straight teeth his parents had spent a fortune to fix. Two rounds of braces. Of course, even when he had braces, girls had been flinging themselves at him. Everything came easy for him.
But not me. I wasn’t going to be free or easy. Even if I secretly wanted to be with him, we could not do this. Whatever this was.
I had Flor to think of. Especially because he wasn’t thinking of her at all.
But he was so very good at this. That sledgehammer was back inside my too-tight chest, pounding furiously, urging me to do all sort of forbidden things. His hand slid around from the back of my head, and his thumb brushed my cheek. I felt myself falling, sinking into the Bermuda Triangle otherwise known as Zach Tucker. Hearts entered but never returned.
“Don’t play me, Zach Tucker.” The words husked out from my lips, my voice unrecognizable as I issued the broken plea.
His eyes darted over my features, his mouth so close that I was certain he was going to kiss me again if I didn’t stop him.
The door rattled behind me a split second before it opened. Zach’s hand fell from my face. I stepped around to face my sister.
“What are you two doing out here?” Chloe snapped.
She was wearing one of Mom’s too-large T-shirts, and her hair was knotted in a wild bun atop her head that bobbed dangerously with her movements. “I can hear your voices upstairs. You’re going to wake Mia.”
“I forgot my key.” I held up the fake rock as though needing proof.
Chloe eyed the two of us distrustfully. It didn’t mean she actually suspected anything. That was generally how she looked at the world since her divorce. Everyone was guilty.
I slid the key back into its rock and returned it to the flower bed, dusting my hands together as if the chore had soiled them.
I faced Zach and forced a smile. “See you Monday.” It was a silent message. I didn’t want to see him any sooner than that.
“You want to watch a movie?” He nodded toward his house.
The offer caught me off-guard. “Um . . .” Apparently he wasn’t accepting my “see you Monday.”
I had a flash of us on his couch ignoring some movie while we made out. Kissing and petting and groping furiously . . . his hands going places no boy’s hands had gone before.
My cheeks caught fire and my breathing hitched.
What was happening?
His eyes fastened on my face, and I was mortified because I knew he knew what I was thinking. And he was probably only suggesting that I come over so that we could talk. So we could set things right. He couldn’t want to go there and do those wild things with me.
I couldn’t assume that, just because he’d kissed me again. Could I?
I wasn’t the kind of girl a boy did wild things with anyway, and he knew that.
“It’s kinda late,” Chloe interjected, not that she really cared. Lately she was only concerned with her own misery.
I felt torn. I wanted to shut down my sister with the reminder that she wasn’t my parent. Naturally. But the last thing I could allow myself to do was go next door with Zach.
“Yeah,” I agreed with Chloe. “It’s late and I have a lot to do tomorrow.”
His gaze held mine, and I knew he wanted to say a lot more on the subject, but my sister’s presence stopped him. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Night, Zach.” I ducked inside the house.
Chloe followed, locking the door. I was halfway up the stairs when she asked, “What was tha
t about?”
I paused. “What do you mean?”
“I could swim in the tension out there.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
She plopped a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “Yeah. You do. You’ve had a thing for Zach forever. What? Did he finally make a move?”
“No!”
She snorted. “Right.”
“Nothing happened. He’s Flor’s ex-boyfriend!”
She shrugged. “So.”
“As in eleven days ago they were together,” I reminded her hotly.
“I would say you work fast, but since you’ve loved him since you were in utero, I guess you’re kinda moving at snail speed here.”
“Chloe!”
“Stop shouting. You’ll wake Mia.”
I resisted reminding her that I usually did that anyway. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, and I’d appreciate it if you kept your theories to yourself about me and Zach.”
“Ah. Already in cover-up-mode?” She nodded as she dropped down onto the couch and reached for the remote control. “Let me just give you a bit of advice. He’s not worth it. It’s going to cost your friendship with Flor, and in the end he’ll only break your heart. That’s what guys do.”
“God, you’re being bitter again.” I stifled a moan.
“It’s true. He has a penis, doesn’t he? Then he’s basically a prick.”
“Not every guy is like Braden.” I’d done it. Said his name. It was an unspoken rule: no one talked about her ex.
She leaned forward and blasted me with an arctic stare. “It’s in their DNA. You’re just too young and dumb to know it, but you’ll figure it out soon enough. They say whatever you want to hear. They even believe it in the beginning. They just change their minds. Fall out of love with you. It’s easy to fall out of love. Maybe even easier than it is to fall in love with someone.”
“Dad isn’t like that,” I shot back. “He and Mom have been together forever.”
She stared at me for a long moment before arching an eyebrow and asking, “Are you so sure he’s not like that?”
My skin flushed cold. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s gone during the week for work.” She gave another one of those indifferent shrugs. She was all about shrugging these days. “Who knows what he’s up to?”
The Me I Meant to Be Page 6
