I could spend my day trying to fix it, because I’m not going to my lectures, and I gave a bullshit excuse to get out of my library shift tonight. This year’s excuse was the funeral of my grandma, which is officially the last time I can use that one. But that’s a problem for future Caden, not me.
I look over my shoulder. Dyl is on his back, shirtless, his arm stretching out beneath my pillow. He’s got the day off too; he got out of his internship at the hospital. He’s wearing black boxers, I know he is, but his lower half is covered by a white sheet, so it’s easy to imagine him completely naked. If I wanted to, that is.
His chest rises, filling with air, then falls. His biceps are slimmer than before and his stomach is soft, extending out from his pecs a little bit. Like I did, he lost his abs pretty quickly after we freed everyone from the LIC. It doesn’t matter; he’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I think about the moment on the plane, when I saw him looking so different, and how him not being him hurt me.
Now I wouldn’t change anything about him. I lean forward and place a soft kiss on his damp forehead, my lips pressing down the dark strands of soft hair. Then I spin around and grab the jeans that lie in a pile on the floor beside the bed. I shuffle my butt forward and pull them over my calves. The bed rustles. Lips press gently against the middle of my bare back, along with the bristle of Dyl’s early-morning stubble. It tickles, so I grin.
He kisses me again, this time at the base of my neck. The soft, slightly wet touches move along my shoulder.
“Are you aware of the time?” he asks quietly. He nibbles my shoulder.
“Acutely.”
“Then you’re lucky you’re cute.”
I stand up and jump into my jeans. Once the belt is buckled, I spin around.
He’s rubbing his eyes. “I can’t believe it’s been a year. One freaking incredible year. Come back to bed, Caden. I want you…” He taps his chest. “Right here.”
I fight the urge to lie down beside him and rest my head on his chest. He’d be warm and he’d stroke my hair and … Focus, man! I’ve been thinking about this morning for weeks and I don’t want to ruin it now. “Actually, I was thinking we could watch the sunrise? If you do I promise we can do whatever you’d like for the rest of the day.”
He laughs. “Whatever I’d like? Wow, someone’s feeling brave this morning! What if I told you I want to spend all morning listing all the reasons Nicki is actually the worst rapper ever?”
I pick up a pillow and hit him over the head with it. “Take that back!”
“Never!”
I pull back the pillow to hit him again, but then he grabs my wrist and pulls me, laughing, onto the bed. I’m on top of him now, looking down at him, and he’s so frigging cute I just have to kiss him once.
Okay, maybe twice.
After the third kiss I roll sideways so that I’m lying next to him. “I wasn’t joking, Dyl. I really want to watch the sunrise. You in?”
He nods. “Of course.”
I get up as he pulls on a pair of black jeans.
“Hey,” he says. “Speaking of plans, I was thinking we should invite Nat and Jules over tonight. We could make a nice meal, see what they’re up to.” He bounces out of bed. “Sound good?”
I take a red shirt from the drawer beside the bed. From the same drawer I retrieve a black one and toss it to him. He catches it with one hand and puts it on, then he makes his way over to me.
“That sounds great,” I say. “Is Jules still with that singer? You know, the one with the dreadlocks?”
He shakes his head. “Nope, she’s with a marine biologist now. As soon as she said it I thought for sure he was a Love Interest, but then I remembered how badass we are.”
Together, we walk out of the bedroom and through the kitchen. It’s simple, with wooden counters and an old-fashioned gas stove, but I love it. The white oven dish Dyl used last night to make lasagna is still on the counter, between a stack of library books and a wooden bowl filled with fruit. I open the glass door and step out onto our porch. The sky is clear, and shiny drops of dew have collected on the wooden railing.
The view is of the hills that surround our property. I reach the balustrade and place both hands on the cold, wet wood. He mimics me.
Two small trees are growing beside the house, just in front of a gray concrete water tank. One for Trevor, one for all the others. Trev’s is a red maple. The other is an elm.
Dyl sniffs and rubs his nose. I’ll never leave him, and I think he knows this. The cost for us to be together was just too high for me to ever give up on us. But that’s a problem for another, darker day; right now he makes me happier than I’ve ever been.
I look up. The sky is really freaking blue today. It’s cloudless and immense.
“Hey,” says Dyl. He isn’t looking at the sky. He’s looking at me, smiling that Bad boy smirk of his. “I love you.”
I smile so big it’s probably lopsided.
I don’t even care.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I honestly can’t believe I’m writing this! The Love Interest has been such an amazing, life-changing whirlwind for me ever since I started writing it, and there’s no way I’d be writing this without the input, support, and general awesomeness of all the people listed here.
First up: my mum, Helen Dietrich. You’ve never doubted that I could get a book out there—even when so many other people did—and I appreciate that so much. We did it! You’re amazing.
The rest of my family is also the freaking best: Shaye, for being enthusiastic and wonderful and for all your ideas in this book that I shamelessly stole. And for reading it in one day, when I finally let you read it. Also for freaking out about the Arkham games, Game of Thrones, and Pokémon with me—you liking that stuff makes it way better. THANK YOU! To Selam, who is the most amazing future world conqueror: I love you so much and hanging out with you is my favorite thing. Dad: for being yourself, and for being so nice and so supportive when I decided to follow a pretty out-there life path. Lastly, Kia: I dedicated this book to you because you’re a badass. Enough said.
Zeima, Sarah, Asha, Lauren, Maddy, Becky, Andrew, Jacob, Jack: I <3 you all. To my two favorite teachers: Ms. G and Mrs. T, for being so incredible, plus Anthony Eaton, who taught me so much about YA.
Now the writing side of things: the reason I’m writing this is because Leon Husock, my agent and good friend, took a chance on me. I knew you were my dream agent the second we started talking about female Thor in our first Skype call, and you’ve totally lived up to that label. The Love Interest wouldn’t be a thing without all the work you have put into it, so thank you so much.
To Liz Szabla: working with you has been so freaking great. Your notes and insight constantly amaze me, and you’ve shaped The Love Interest into something way better than I could’ve done on my own. Thank you so, so much. An equally huge thanks to the entire team at Feiwel and Friends. Publishing a book has always been my wildest dream, and this team has made it more fun, rewarding, and thrilling than I ever even imagined. You’re my faves.
My writer friends: I LOVE ALL OF YOU! Seriously, all of you. If I’ve ever interacted with you on Twitter, you deserve a place here. Some people that have been particularly important to The Love Interest are: Holly Jennings, for all the chats/advice; Max Wirestone, for your enthusiasm; Becky Albertalli, for being so amazing and for making me feel welcome in the YA community when I was brand new (Tim Tam Slams FTW); Kimberly Ito, for being a great friend and for the notes that made TLI what it is (seriously); Everly Frost; all of Leon’s clients; Clay Wirestone; Mia Francis; Phillip White; Kaitlyn S. Patterson; Kevin Savoie; Shelly Z; Adam Sass; Jay Coles; Sage Collins; and Caleb Roehrig.
To the Swanky Seventeens: I feel like I hit the biggest jackpot with this debut group. You’re all so talented, friendly, and funny, and have made this whole debut thing an absolute blast. Jilly, Tricia, Andrew, Anna, Stephanie, Angie, Nic, Tristina, Breeana, Emily, Carlie, Sonia, Kayla, and everyone else:
thank you so much.
Lastly, I want to give a shout-out to the LGBTQIA+ people out there. If you’re LGBTQIA+ and reading this, know that you are perfect, and valid, and you deserve only the best. I hope The Love Interest managed to get my feelings about you across, but just in case, I’ll make it crystal clear here:
I love you.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Cale Dietrich is a YA devotee, lifelong gamer, and tragic pop punk enthusiast. He was born in Perth, grew up on the Gold Coast, and now lives in Brisbane, Australia. The Love Interest is his first novel. He can be found on Twitter at @caledietrich. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Part One: Love Interest
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Part Two: Antagonist
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Part Three: Protagonist
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Cale Dietrich
A Feiwel and Friends Book
An imprint of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010
fiercereads.com
All rights reserved.
Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.
Our eBooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at (800) 221-7945 ext. 5442 or by e-mail at [email protected].
First hardcover edition May 2017
eBook edition May 2017
eISBN 978-1-250-10712-1
The Love Interest Page 30