Ridley pressed a kiss to my temple. “You are not what I expected.”
“Is that good or bad?”
His eyes darkened. “I don’t know.”
His lips claimed mine again, and I felt his smile as the kiss deepened. It both thrilled and frightened, these feelings that whirled in my center like a wind tunnel within me. And just like that tornado of my childhood, a relationship with Ridley could destroy the safe haven I craved. He was not the boy I’d thought he’d be, but he was still not the one who would be the wisest choice.
“Ridley,” I whispered, as he held his lips to my forehead. “We’re supposed to be studying.”
He lifted his head, and arrogant eyes stared down at me. “Your nerd ways can be really inconvenient.”
My pulse still hammered, and the thoughts bounced like fireflies in my head. What was I doing? This was Ridley Estes. And who was I? “We can’t do this.”
Ridley lifted one solitary brow. “Why not?”
“Because . . .” So many reasons. And any second I was going to remember what they were.
“Of Andrew Levin?”
“Yes.” Right. That name did sound familiar. “And because we have your research paper to do.” And because socially speaking, I was the nerd peasant to his prince. And clearly a temporary lapse in judgment for him. For both of us.
Ridley reached for the end of his scarf around my neck and slowly looped it once. “Harper?”
“Yes?”
For a second I thought he would kiss me again, thought he was on the verge of some bold, glitter-dipped declaration that would light my world on fire.
But Ridley only shook his head. “Nothing.”
Disappointment was insistent and loud, but I refused to let it in. “Let’s go study at the coffee shop,” I said. “I’ll buy.”
“You’re not buying.”
“Rule number thirty-one.” I walked on ahead of him. “Never turn down free lattes.”
As we got in Ridley’s Jeep, I knew two things with absolute certainty.
I could not fall in love with Ridley Estes.
And I knew just how to get him back on the team.
* * *
It was nine o’clock and dark as road tar when I got home. The stars hid behind distant clouds, and I could smell winter coming.
Entering through the garage, I stepped into the kitchen, where my mom and dad stood on opposite sides of the bar. Tension hovered like smog, and my mom’s suddenly pleasant face turned my way. It did nothing to persuade me I hadn’t just interrupted a fight.
“Hey, babe.” Mom’s arm slipped around me as she pulled me in for a side hug.
“What’s up?” I looked from one parent to the other.
“First item of business is that Mavis dropped off a terrier. Said it’s well enough to be socialized.” Mom crossed her arms and leaned against the counter. “You didn’t mention we were fostering a third dog.”
“It totally escaped my mind.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Harper—”
“You know, some parents have to hear their daughters tell them they’re pregnant. You? The worst you have to hear is I brought home a dog.” It made perfect sense to me. “So really, you should be thanking me.”
“Every dog in this house is temporary,” Mom said. “It’s hard to show this place when it looks like a petting zoo.”
The dogs were deterring our house sale? Sometimes even I didn’t know the depth of my intelligence.
“Trudy’s kenneled in your room,” Mom said. “Make sure she stays there.”
“The dog you’re going to let me keep forever?”
“No deal.”
“Second,” Dad added, “Andrew Levin’s sitting in our living room.”
“By himself?”
“Don’t be crazy,” Mom said. “We wouldn’t leave him alone.” She took a slow drink from a coffee mug. “We sent Cole to entertain him.”
Even worse! I raced down the hall and nearly twisted my ankle as I skidded into the living room.
“You’re right, Andrew, that is a fun app. But my favorite thing on Harper’s laptop is her diary. If you open this icon right here—”
“That’ll be enough of that.” I grabbed the laptop from Cole’s thieving hands and pointed my finger right to his black, corrupt heart. “You have five seconds to leave this room.”
“Or else?”
“Or else I tell Andrew how you still like to play with sailboats in the bathtub.”
“Stop! Shut up!”
“And then I’ll tell him about your baby blanket you still—” Cole ran out, carried by Nikes and utter humiliation.
“So.” Andrew stood up from the couch. “You keep a diary.”
“Yep.” Could he tell I’d just been kissed by Ridley? Was it written all over my face? Could you get hickeys from mentally replaying your own makeout scenes?
“Anything in there written about me?”
“At least a line or two.” Neither one of us closed the distance. I stood by the TV, unable to make myself walk those ten steps that would take me to him. I had a boyfriend, yet I had kissed someone else. Was I no better than my dad? “I’m really sorry about last night.”
“How is Ridley’s sister?”
“I texted you.” I had told him about the hospital, then later sending another text to let him know Emmie was okay. “I even called. Left a voice mail.”
Andrew sat back down, hands planted on his knees. “I was mad. And I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize, I—”
“No, I do. You have this friendship with Ridley, and I’m jealous.”
I couldn’t quite look him in the eye. “Don’t be.”
“I thought about it all day. Couldn’t sleep last night. It was stupid of me to get mad. We’ve barely started seeing each other, and I’m getting territorial. I’m not that guy.”
Having an intimate conversation with someone from across the room probably broke some rule, so I crossed the floor and settled myself at the end of the couch, a mere two cushions away.
“I like you a lot, Harper. And I’ve never really felt that way about anyone.”
“I . . .” Make out with boys on football fields. “I like you a lot too.” I still liked him. I was sure of it. Andrew gave a pointed look at the laptop in my hands. “I want you to write good things in there about me.” He scooted toward me ’til his hip bumped mine. “I want to be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”
I had to laugh at that. “You’re the only boyfriend I’ve ever had.”
Andrew took my hand, his thumb grazing over my skin. “I need to know you’re in this.”
“I am.” I was. Pretty sure. Mostly sure. Definitely thinking I was probably sure.
“When I kiss you, can you tell me I’m the only guy you’re thinking of?”
The feel of Ridley’s skin against my fingers, the slide of his lips over mine, the warmth of his arms holding me tight. All of that rushed back from memory.
“Yes,” I told Andrew. “Yes, I think I can.”
Andrew’s smile was a little crooked, a little uncertain.
Because both of us knew I was lying.
Chapter Thirty
On Monday morning, I woke up to a text from Andrew. Because boyfriends send texts.
At three a.m., I had put the terrier in bed with me, and she was now curled in a ball, resting peacefully against my legs. Her ear was wiry to the touch, and she opened sleepy eyes when I petted her. “Good morning, Trudy.”
The dog wagged her tail, and I smiled. She had been given a new life. I loved my work at the rescue, and when we moved, I would have to let it go. I could volunteer at another shelter in another town, but it wouldn’t be the same. At least this dog would be coming with me.
I ran my hand across Trudy’s face, and the dog sniffed my fingers.
“Trudy, have you ever had a boyfriend? I’m not sure I’m ready for it.” The dog rolled over on her back, more concerned with getting her tummy sc
ratched than being my therapist. Laz batted at a stuffed mouse from the end of the bed, unfazed by yet another new addition.
What were the rules to a relationship? Did we always hold hands? Did we call each other every night? I was light-years from being the one to initiate a kiss. Would that bother Andrew? Did I have to rehash my life story so he’d understand me?
Surely every girl agonized over these things with her first boyfriend. Ridley would probably tell me I was overthinking.
Tired of stewing in my thoughts, I pried myself out of bed at five thirty, tended to all three foster dogs and one uppity cat, then padded to the kitchen to get breakfast started. Cooking was a stress reliever, but it was also where I’d first bonded with my mom. In the early days, conversations flowed better when she was showing me how to roll the pizza dough or press a fork to the top of peanut butter cookies. I always worked by her side as she prepared the Thanksgiving dinner, and I wondered if I’d even want to this time. The holiday was in a matter of days, and I dreaded the farce it would be. Eating our sweet potatoes and pretending everything was okay.
Thirty minutes later when my mom came down, I had coffee perking, biscuits in the oven, and a broccoli quiche sitting on the stove.
“Coffee or juice?” I asked as Mom pulled out a bar stool at the counter.
“What are you doing?”
I blinked. “Making breakfast.”
“Why?”
“Because I was hungry.”
“Are you sleeping at all?” Mom asked.
“Yes.” Mom looked like she hadn’t gotten much rest herself. “I slept a bit last night.”
“Really? Because I thought I heard another nightmare. I know you’re worried about everything, and Becky Dallas is probably heavy on your mind, but—”
“It must’ve been the new dog.” I drew my knife through the quiche and slid a piece onto my plate. “I’m sure that was it.”
Mom studied me for long, painful moments, but finally let it go. “You’ve had a busy weekend.”
“Yeah.” I poured my own glass of juice and sat at the bar beside her. “I guess Dad told you we talked.”
“He told me a lot of things. Harper, you know I love you, right?”
“Yes.”
“And that you’re an O’Malley on the good days and the bad days? I mean, sis, you’re stuck with us no matter what.” Mom nudged me with her shoulder and smiled. “Your dad said you mentioned not having O’Malley blood.”
I sneaked a bite of quiche to the two dogs at my feet. “I can’t help how I feel. I know I’m your daughter, but—”
“When you were in the burn unit, you had a blood transfusion three different times. Did you know that?”
I shook my head and pushed a crumb on my plate with my fork.
“You happen to be an O positive. Know who else is?” She didn’t wait for my response. “Your dad and I.” Mom tapped the top of my hand. “So yeah, Becky Dallas’s blood runs through your veins, but so does mine. And so does your father’s. You’re a mix of all of us. And that makes you perfect.” She hugged me to her and kissed my cheek. “And it makes you ours. Forever. Got it?”
I blinked my leaky eyes. Lately, I had more waterworks going on than the fountain downtown. “Got it.”
“Next month your dad is going to Becky’s hearing to remind that judge what happened, how she treated you. He’ll never stop fighting for you. But it’s time you fought for you, as well. One day Becky’s going to walk the streets a free woman.” Mom tapped the soft indention at my temple. “Don’t let yourself be the only one who’s locked up. It’s okay to talk to the counselor. To tell her how you feel. To tell her what happened. Harper,” Mom said, “it’s okay to let go.”
But what if I shared my whole story . . . and all that ugly was still there? What if I never got closure? What if I always recoiled whenever someone stood too close?
What if someone saw all my scars?
“You seem pretty close to this Ridley,” Mom said. “Is there anything I need to know?”
“We’re just friends. That’s all I want to be.”
“Because you like Andrew.” It was a statement, but it came out more like a question.
“He’s not quite what I thought he’d be, but there’s still a lot to like.”
She smiled behind her “Coffee Before Talky” mug. “That sounds completely boring.”
“It’s not boring. It’s logical.” Why couldn’t anyone see how smart I was being here? Too many people rushed into relationships based on nothing more than feelings. I wasn’t going to make those mistakes. “When I list the reasons he’s right for me, it’s irrefutable.”
“You made a list?” Mom asked.
“Yeah. Pros, cons. Didn’t you do that with Dad?”
She inspected a nail in need of a polish touch-up. “Maybe I should have. Tell me about this list. Give me the reasons you like Andrew.”
“He’s smart. He’s reliable. He’s predictable.”
“You could be talking about one of your dogs.”
“Which is basically the ultimate compliment.”
Mom laughed. “No, it’s not. What about fun? Does he make you laugh?”
“He tries to. That counts, right?”
She didn’t look convinced. “Is he someone you can talk to for hours?”
“We haven’t known each other long.”
“Does he seem to get you?”
Not like someone else I knew. “Andrew likes me. No boy’s ever liked me before.”
“I bet lots of boys have.” Mom pointed a piece of bacon right at me. “You just didn’t give them a chance.”
* * *
“You seem preoccupied.”
Andrew’s voice pulled me away from my thorough scanning of the lunchtime cafeteria. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind,” I said. Like wondering where Ridley was. I hadn’t seen him all day.
“My band just got another gig lined up for next week,” Andrew said. “Are you ready to be a rocker’s girlfriend?”
Molly snorted beside me.
“What’s the other gig?” I asked, kicking my best friend beneath the table.
“A party at Jamal Horton’s.”
Molly put down her fork and gaped at Andrew like he’d just offered her Madonna tickets. “Jamal Horton’s? I’ve never gotten an invite to one of his parties. Harper, they’re such a big deal. He always has live music. College kids show up. And tacos. He throws killer parties with tacos.”
Which was totally lost on the vegetarian at the table. “I’m not really the party type of girl.”
“But you’re still going to my show tonight, right?” Andrew asked. “I thought you could go hang out with the other band girlfriends, get to know them.” He sounded like he was doubting my groupie abilities already. “You could help us set up, and, I dunno, be there for moral support.”
Molly picked up her tray and stood. “He means kissing between sets. And speaking of that, I’m late for play rehearsal.”
“If you don’t want to go, I understand,” Andrew said as we watched Molly flounce away. “The band’s a pretty big part of my life, so I thought you’d want to go and—”
“Of course I do.” Yep, I could do this. “I’ll be there.”
“I think I’m about to get a job,” Andrew added. “So we should hang out while we can.”
I waited for the sinking bomb of disappointment to hit at the news I’d be seeing Andrew less. It sailed right past me. “Where are you going to be working?” I asked.
He popped a chicken nugget in his mouth. “You’re looking at a future fry cook at Smitty’s Burgers. If you play your cards right, you can have me and discounts on value meals.”
“I’ve struck boyfriend gold.” My eyes flicked to the doors, as if Ridley might come in any moment. Where was he?
“If you’re interested, I think I could get you on at the burger place.”
I forced myself to tune back into the conversation. “I work at the shelter. And I tutor.”
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“Yeah, um . . .” Andrew’s expression dimmed as he reached for my hand. “How long are you gonna tutor Ridley Estes?”
My hand in Andrew’s went cold. “Is my tutoring him a problem?”
“I’m not sure,” Andrew said. “You tell me.”
“Ridley and I are friends.”
“There are three of us in this relationship, Harper. And one of us needs to go.”
“Oh.” Life without talking to Ridley every day. Laughing without Ridley every day. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
“It doesn’t have to happen now. But maybe soon?”
“It’s really important he passes his college class. He has a lot riding on it.”
Andrew’s brow furrowed and he released my hand. “Just give it some thought.”
No more Ridley.
No more who I was with Ridley.
It was all too much at once.
“I need to go make a phone call.” I got up from the table and grabbed my backpack.
“Harper, are you okay?” Andrew asked.
But I didn’t answer. I just kept walking. Past the table of cheerleaders. Past the table of kids most likely to blow up the school. And past the three tables of football players that normally included Ridley Estes.
I pulled out my phone in the shelter of the third bathroom stall and pulled out the business card my mom had given me weeks ago.
Someone picked up on the third ring.
“Vital Roots,” a female voice answered. “How can I help you?”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Harper!” Devon McTavish clapped her hands together and waved me into her office. “I’m so glad to see you!”
Her enthusiasm was bolstering. If not a little weird. And now that I was here, I was already regretting it. “Thanks for seeing me at the last minute.”
“I had a cancellation,” Devon said. “What serendipitous timing.”
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