“A drive? Where to?”
“Munroe.”
“Got another puppy to deliver?”
Sullivan’s mouth quirks as if he’s trying hard not to grin. “Are you going to make me say it?” He runs his hands through his damp hair and sighs. “I’d like to take you out.”
“Like on a date?” I sound coy, but my heart is thudding so hard in my chest I’m afraid he can hear it even over the song of the rain.
“God, you’re impossible,” he groans. “Yes, June, on a date. I, Sullivan Tate, would like to take you, Juniper Baker, on a date.”
I can’t stop the curl of my lips. But just as quickly as I smile, I remember. I’m leaving. My best friend is probably in love with him. My brother keeps warning me away. But here, on my porch, on my birthday, stands the only person who’s seeking me out. His attention is so unanticipated, and so welcome, I answer before I have a chance to think twice.
“I’d love to.”
“Good.” He looks for a second like he’s going to lean in and kiss me, or hug me, or something, but he puts his hands on his hips instead. “Do you need anything? A coat? A purse?”
“Yeah, I’ll be just a second.” I hurry into the house without inviting him inside. I know that I should, that it’s the polite thing to do, but I don’t feel like fielding twenty questions from Mom and Law. Besides, I’m not sure that we want any witnesses. There are plenty of people who wouldn’t be happy about me taking off with Sullivan, and while I don’t much care, I also don’t want to go looking for trouble.
“I’m going out!” I call in the direction of the living room.
“Okay,” Mom calls back. “Have fun.”
I’m back outside in a couple of minutes flat. I’ve grabbed a jean jacket to throw over my sundress and a clutch purse that holds my wallet and has just enough room left over for a tube of lip gloss. I even took a moment to finger-comb my hair and put on a bit of lipstick. When I step outside and close the door behind me, Sullivan gives me an unmistakable look that fills me with a familiar mix of dread and desire. I know I’m not supposed to like him, but there’s something here I want.
“How did you know I was free tonight?” I ask when we’re buckled in and heading down the highway. “It’s my birthday. I could have been out partying.”
“Nah.” Sullivan smiles. “You’re not the type. Besides, Jonathan let it slip that you were home. I took a chance.”
My mood sours instantly. I already know the answer, but I can’t help asking: “So he’s at your house?”
“Mmhmm.” Sullivan seems nonplussed by the question and has completely missed my tone.
“And what’s he doing there?”
That earns me a sidelong glance. “Hanging out. Look, June, your brother and my brothers are good friends. He’s at our house a lot. Do you have a problem with that?”
I contemplate that for a moment, and then decide to throw caution to the wind. “Jonathan is good friends with Calvin and Elizabeth Murphy. They’re like family to him. And from what I understand, your family has made life a living hell for the Murphys. Sullivan, you killed their dog. I guess I don’t understand the attraction.”
His hands tighten on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. For a minute, I think he’s going to yell at me, but then he visibly relaxes and the Sullivan I thought I knew is back. He’s cocky, self-important. He says insolently, “Dramatic much? The dog was a menace—he was getting into our henhouse on a nightly basis. And he killed himself. We didn’t stuff poison down his throat. You don’t know what you’re talking about, June.”
When I give an exasperated cry, it takes us both by surprise. But I don’t care. I’m not about to back down. “I am sick to death of being told that I don’t know what I’m talking about. If nobody will tell me what’s going on, how am I supposed to know?” I’m shrieking, but it feels good. “And why did you pick me up tonight? Why are you with me? Is this all some act? Are you—”
Sullivan slams on the brakes and hydroplanes for a few seconds, forcing me to brace myself against the dashboard. By the time he’s straightened out and slowed down, I’m breathing heavy and near tears. It’s mortifying. I don’t want to get upset in front of Sullivan Tate, and I certainly don’t want to cry in front of him. But I feel used. So confused. My whole world seems upended and I can’t put my finger on what exactly is different or why.