I don’t even notice Cal dragging me inside until I’m standing in front of him, with my back pressed against the door and his arms caging me. He leans in closer, making my heart go wild in my chest.
If I stood on the tips of my toes, our lips would touch. They part at the idea.
His gaze drops to my mouth before snapping back to my eyes. “What were you thinking going out dressed like that?”
“I needed to save the dock.”
“Save the dock? It was falling apart.”
“But…” My shoulders slump. “There was a special plank.”
His eyes turn big and round as he processes what I said. “You went out for that?”
So, he does remember.
How could he not? It was the start of everything.
Cal and I were having a good day hanging out by the lake until I ruined it by opening my big mouth about the date I have tonight with Johnny Westbrook, Wisteria High’s star running back.
Cal’s sharp jaw tenses. Ever since he came back to the lake for the summer before his sophomore year of college, things have been different. He is different. I’m not sure what happened during his freshman year, but he no longer looks like the kid I grew up with. The bones of his face are more defined, and his muscles are larger than before, making his T-shirt look too small.
This is Cal. Your best friend. I repeat the same mantra as always, yet it doesn’t hit the same today. Maybe it has something to do with the way the lake reflects off his eyes or how he smiles whenever I laugh at something he says.
“You’re really going to let him kiss you tonight?” His question comes out accusatory.
“So what if I am? I’m almost seventeen years old.” Everyone else in my grade has been kissed while I’m just biding my time until I collect a herd of cats and call it a life.
“Wasn’t he the same kid who used to shove straws up his nose and pretend to be a walrus?”
I glare at him. “He was six.” And now the memory will live on in my brain forever.
Dammit, Cal. I bet he did that on purpose.
His hands clench by his sides. “Cancel your plans and let’s hang out instead.”
“What? No!”
“Why not? We can order pizza too. I’m even willing to get all those gross toppings you like.”
I consider it for two seconds before shaking my head. “Tempting but no.”
“You’re really that interested in going on a date with him?”
“I am now that you’re so against it.” I cross my arms against my chest, which only makes my boobs pop out even more. His gaze flicks quickly over my body.
All it takes is one single glance for my stomach muscles to tighten.
He looks away when our eyes connect. “Real mature.”
“If you have something to say, then spit it out.”
He doesn’t even pause before saying, “I dare you to kiss me.”
I blink twice before my lips start working. “What?”
“You heard me. I dare you to kiss me.” He pulls out his Swiss Army knife from his back pocket and draws a single strike diagonally across the four other vertical lines beneath the letter L that he carved into the plank years ago. Compared to the now five strikes underneath the L, his side has at least ten more, each carrying a fond memory of something I dared him to do.
My hands tremble against my lap. “Are you serious?”
“As serious as you are about going on this date.”
“But—”
“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” he taunts with a smirk.
“I’m not scared.” I’m just…shocked. Cal has always kept things platonic between us.
It’s a kiss, not a proposal. Stop making such a big deal out of it.
“Fine.” I close my eyes and lean forward. My mouth softly brushes against his before I pull away. The kiss ended as quickly as it started, but my lips still tingle from the press of his against mine.
His eyes narrow. “Is that how you plan on kissing him?”
My cheeks heat, embarrassment quickly burning into anger. “What’s wrong with how—”
I’m cut off by his lips slamming against mine. The air between us crackles, sparks flying as our mouths mold together.
Everything about my first kiss is amazing. The buzz building in my lower belly. The slight shift in his breathing as my arms wrap around the back of his neck so I can pull him in closer. His fingers digging into my hair, trapping me as he kisses me like he spent his whole life dreaming about it.
Cal kisses like he is afraid that I might disappear at any second, so he wants to prolong it.
My fingers brush against the patch of skin between his hair and his shirt. He sucks in a breath, pausing our kiss to press his forehead against mine. “Lana.”
“Lana.” Cal’s voice sounds completely different.
Deeper. Rougher. Sexier.
“Hello, Lana,” he says, sharper.
Shit.
The memory disappears in a blink of an eye. I press a hand against my lips as I look up at Cal.
“Why did you want to save the plank?” His question comes out soft.
My gaze drops along with my self-esteem. “It was stupid.”
“Tell me,” he pushes.
My mouth opens, the truth lying on the tip of my tongue.
Because no matter what has changed between us, the memories tied to that piece of wood will always hold a special place in my heart.
Sharing what the plank meant to me feels like betraying myself and the anger I’ve spent years holding on to.
It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s gone now.
I clear my throat. “Whatever. It’s not like it matters anyway. It was just a stupid piece of wood.”
His face crumples. I slide out from underneath his arms, leaving him staring at the space I once occupied.
I type out a new message to Cal, jabbing my screen like it personally offended me.
You have another package.
Cal’s reply is instant.
Cal
That one’s for you.
My mouth drops open.
You ordered something for me?
Cal
I owed you after scaring you last night.
I battle between opening the package and leaving the cardboard box to rot in the garage. Curiosity wins over common sense, so I grab a pair of scissors from the kitchen and open the box.
My hands tremble as I pull out a new baby monitor.
Oh my God.
My heart betrays me in that moment, throbbing painfully in my chest.
It’s just a baby monitor, I try to rationalize with myself. Except it has nothing to do with the baby monitor and everything to do with the fact that Cal cares enough about me to replace the one that fell into the water.
Honestly, I’m not sure he ever stopped caring.
How am I supposed to hate the man when he does thoughtful shit like this?
You’ll never be able to hate him and you know it.
No, but at least the idea of hating him makes me feel in control.
This feeling though? The one that makes my heart beat wildly in my chest and my head spin with ideas about him?
I need to shut that shit down fast.
19
ALANA
“Por Dios, no empieces conmigo.” I smash the side of my hand mixer for the fifth time tonight. Between it overheating from too much use and its old age, I’m lucky the motor still runs.
I haven’t been able to part with the baking tool, especially since my mom got it for me, but I’d kill for one of those fancy mixers right about now. Once upon a time I had one, but it broke and I never got around to buying a new one because a majority of my money went into making sure Cami had everything she needed.