“He left. Maybe twenty minutes ago? Took Ashley home.”
“What a gentleman,” I sigh. I want to ask Sullivan why he didn’t take Ashley home, but I’m too irritated to care. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Ride home with Callum.”
Callum is one of Jonathan’s friends who lives just a couple of miles past our farm. I’ve known him since he was a curly-haired toddler. “Okay,” I say. “Have you seen him?”
“Couple minutes ago. He left.” Sullivan is enjoying this.
“Stop messing with me. I’m not in the mood.”
“I can see that. Come on, let me take you home.”
I wonder if he planned this, but that seems far-fetched. I’m sure Jonathan didn’t need any convincing when it became clear that Ashley needed a ride home—he’s always been chivalrous.
“Fine,” I say, because I don’t have any other choice. The butterfly feeling in my chest has dissipated, and I follow Sullivan without pause.
His truck still smells faintly of puppy. I’m about to comment on it when I realize that Sullivan hasn’t turned over the engine. We’re sitting in the unyielding darkness, alone, and when I turn to Sullivan, he’s facing me.
“I need to get home,” I say preemptively. “I have church in the morning.”
“Me too.”
This surprises me a little. I didn’t realize the Tates were churchgoing. I wonder where they attend. I don’t have a chance to ask him, though, because Sullivan slides his hand across the console and grazes the edge of my hand where it rests on the seat. I catch my breath, ready to pull away, but he hooks his pinky through mine and hangs on tight. I’m shocked. I wonder if Jonathan told him, if there’s some way that he can know what this gesture means to me, how important it is.
“Sullivan—”
“Just listen,” he says. “I know you don’t trust me. I know Jonathan is warning you away.”
“It’s—”
He squeezes my pinky to stop me. “And I need you to know, June, it’s never going to happen with Ashley. Like, not ever.”
Still. “Sullivan, she’s my best friend.”
“That’s why I let her down easy tonight.”
“You did?” My heart breaks for Ashley a little bit, but I can’t say that I’m surprised. What does surprise me is my own reaction, the lift of hope that makes it hard to breathe for just a moment. I try to think back to the bonfire, to Sullivan and Ashley talking across from me. Did she look devastated? Did she cry? My heart wrings at the thought, but I don’t remember seeing her upset. And it’s true that Ashley’s obsessions come and go almost as frequently as she changes the color of her nail polish. How many boyfriends has she lazily flipped through while I helped her pick out cute outfits and dissected their fleeting, would-be relationships? Maybe, just this once, it’s my turn.
But I’m being ridiculous. Irrational. I want nothing to do with Sullivan and never have. I’m leaving for college in a handful of weeks, and I have no intention of ever coming back. At least, not to stay. So what could possibly happen between us? Nothing. And then there’s the drama with the Murphys and what happened with Baxter… I should tell him in no uncertain terms that he needs to take me home. Now.
Except Sullivan has turned over my hand and is tracing the lines in my palm as if by memory. I’m losing my resolve, I can feel it, and when he leans over the console and carefully brushes my hair off my shoulder, I let him.
His mouth is warm and oh so tender on my neck. I try to think logically about what’s happening so that I can justify it in the morning, but it’s harder and harder to concentrate. And by the time Sullivan finds my lips, I’m not thinking at all.
CHAPTER 13
WINTER TODAY
It took Juniper several tries to back her car down the gravel drive of the old Murphy place. There was a sheen of ice over the loose stones, and a thick layer of snow on top of that, and in the end she was forced to clear a path by scuffing up the gravel behind the wheels with the heels of her canvas tennis shoes. She cursed herself for bypassing boots that morning and assuming the only off-roading she’d encounter would be the hospital parking garage. But, inappropriate footwear aside, her low-tread tires eventually caught, and Juniper slid the rest of the way home.
By the time she finally closed the door at the bungalow, she was shaking uncontrollably. It could have been because her sneakers were soaked through and her jeans were damp to the knees, but she knew it had much more to do with the hint of Sullivan still lingering on her lips.