I throw her arms off me and stand, sending her scrambling to keep her balance on the log.

  “Hey, Cole?” Snake calls to my back, but I don’t acknowledge him. I need a better distraction. The bar. The constant reminder of why I need out of this damn town.

  I need Ash out of my head. Even if I doubt anything will work.

  Ash

  I’m done with tears.

  The last year has felt like one long funeral—First Kate’s accident. Then my parent's divorce. Somewhere in the middle, I finished high school. And now, even though it only really started in my head, Cole.

  I throw myself on my bed and hug my body pillow. I don’t get boys. According to Kate, I shouldn’t even try. One minute Cole’s looking at me like he could sope me up with a biscuit, and the next, he’s backing away like I’m repulsive.

  I don’t even know what to do with that. All I really know is Cole pushing me away a few nights ago still feels like a hole in my heart as hollow and raw as the one still there from Kate’s death and mom’s exit.

  Dad is downstairs. His keys jingle in his hands as he waits for me to come down. Tonight is the first night in months he’s been home from work before dark, and he says he wants to spend some time together, but it’s all a ruse. He’s still working; he just needs me to get this part of the job done.

  One of his two partners is having a decedent birthday—his sixtieth from what I overheard Dad telling someone on the phone. I’m going on Daddy’s arm the way mom used to attend these parties. I’m filling up her space.

  “Pumpkin, you ready?”

  His voice trails up the stairs and into my room. He hasn’t called me Pumpkin in at least the last year. Warmth spreads through my belly, and I stand for one last check of my hair and dress before I step out as my father’s new arm piece.

  I borrowed a little black dress from Kate’s closet and paired it with a string of pearls I found in mom’s jewelry box. The dress dips low around the collar, and the hem hits me mid-thigh. I’m more exposed than usual, but that’s the whole point of a party.

  Dad seems pleased when I show up at the base of the stairs. He looks me over and smiles before holding out his arm. I’m not sure if it’s the fact I’m reminding him of Kate in the dress or mom in the pearls, but somehow I know that smile isn't meant for me.

  It stings.

  I bury the pain.

  As I have buried so many other hurts lately.

  “Carman will be there tonight,” Dad tells me as we get into his car. “You remember Carmon Reed, don’t you?”

  I nod and smile. Remember? It’s him who keeps forgetting. Carmon and I were best friends from kindergarten until eighth grade when her parent’s split, and she moved to London with her mother. We shared everything with each other, and then, in the course of a few weeks, we no longer existed in each other’s lives.

  “How long is she staying,” I venture, the silence in the car deafening.

  “I’m not sure, Pumpkin. Jake Reed doesn’t share much about his family life at the office. I think I picked up that she will be attending college in the states and staying with him until the new year starts.”

  Wow. My father just said close to three sentences to me. That’s more words strung together than he’s managed in weeks. He really wants tonight to go well. Something big hinges on him putting in a good show at this party. The new weight presses down on my chest and I think of Cole and how close he’d held me the last time my world sank in on me.

  Maybe if tonight goes well, we can start to put our lives back together. Or, as back together as they can be put missing two key components.

  The rest of our drive is quiet. I ask a few questions just to keep Dad talking. I’ve missed his voice. He even laughs once. It’s a glimpse into the warmth I want to rebuild with him. But, It’s fleeting. As his attention.

  As soon as we step into the Reed’s gargantuan estate house, Dad is swept up into the crowd of other lawyers and clients, and I’m left to search out Cameron on my own.

  It’s not long before I hear her familiar voice scream my name over the crowd of suits and black cocktail dresses.

  “Daddy told me you were coming tonight, and I thought he was just making sure I didn’t ditch.” Her arms collide around my neck, and she’s rocking me back and forth in a bear hug.

  Once she releases me, I reach for the hem of my dress and pull it down where her hug had pulled it up. I’ve never worn anything so short, and I’m obsessed with not showing my butt.

  Cameron looks fantastic. Her hair is a champagne color and styled in loose ringlets that frame her face, and her beaded dress is a shade deeper than her hair and makes her skin glow.

  She’s the only female in the room not wearing black, but I know Cameron, and I know even that isn’t the reason she stands out.

  Her personality used to be bigger than life, and it seems to only have grown while she was away in London.

  She drapes one arm around my shoulders and pulls me along with her. “We have so much catching up to do. It’s been years. Why’d you stop calling me?”

  I’m trying to catch my breath from the hug when I sputter out, “my father said the calls were too expensive.” Which was code for Camron chose to live with her mother over her father, so my father didn’t want us to be friends anymore. Adults are so childish like that.

  “No worries. I’m back in the states now. Mummy remarried and is touring Africa and Asia with husband number three, and I’m here until school starts. Daddy got a late appointment with Agnus Scott, and they accepted me. Where are you going?”

  “Columbia,” I answer. “At least that’s the plan.”

  Dad’s plan I almost spit out. He’s had me signed up for Columbia School of Law since I was five and drew a picture of me going to work with daddy during the first day of Kindergarten. Since then, it’s been his dream to have a partnership with his daughter.

  “Well,” she pulls me out of the crowd and into the empty hallway. “We’ve got two months left before either of us has to leave. What are we going to do with the time?”

  I can’t bring myself to tell Cameron my definition of a good time is reading a book on the beach or hoping Cole Blake will come out of the bar and spot my car. “I don’t have much planned.”

  Cameron’s face contorts. She throws a hand up to her mouth, and since she’s led me all the way from her back deck to the beach in front of her dad’s property, we sit on the sand. “I didn’t even think before I spoke. I’m so sorry about Kate. Daddy didn’t tell me until months after the accident, and I…” She drops her hand from her mouth to my lap. “I couldn’t bring it up so long after it happened, so I said nothing. But I’ve replayed my memories of her in my mind a thousand times since I heard. Her laugh. That funny nose wiggle she did. I can’t believe she's gone.”

  It’s funny how fast I can go from ‘just fine’ to ‘gutted’ at the mention of Kate’s name. It doesn’t seem fair that I have to relive her death every time I see someone for the first time after. For the first few months, those early times happened often. Now they come at me sporadically. But every time, my stomach hollows out, and my cheeks burn, and I want to run and stick my head under pillows and scream until all the anger drains away.

  “What happened?” Camron is studying me hard now. Her lips are soft, and her eyes glowing with compassion.

  I squeeze my hands together in my lap. “Hit and run,” I manage without my voice cracking. “The guy never stopped.”

  “Did they ever find out who it was?”

  I stare at her. I’m sure her father has spent hours talking this over with mine, and I’m surprised none of those conversations reached her. I guess when she went to London with her mother, she really was cut out of her father’s life. As distant as Dad and I are, I couldn’t imagine him keeping a friend’s death from me.

  “Kate was drunk. She was in her lane, and the witnesses all reported she was hit head-on by a car swerving, but once the toxicology report came out, no one seemed interested in finding who hit her anymore.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  And my wound is open and raw again. “I need a drink,” I hear myself say before I even know what I’m saying. I’m up and on my feet, headed up the deck stairs and for the open bar along the back wall. I can’t remember what the name of the drink Cole offered me was. Sledgehammer maybe. But I want one. I want one like I’ve never wanted anything in my life.

  Cameron is behind me and calls my name, but I’m standing in the short line and ignoring her. The man in front of me moves, and I’m left with the perfect view of Cole Blake in a button-down black shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His left arm is covered with tats. Designs, I’m sure, mean something to him. A dragon breathing fire. A date with a heart circling the numbers.

  My breathing quickens as his eyes land on mine, and I can’t move out of fear.

  “Ash,” he says, starting for several long seconds.

  When I don’t answer, he picks up a cup and points it to me. “Orange juice?”

  “No,” I shout out eagerly. Why is my world crumbling down around me?

  I can’t take it.

  “Sledgehammer,” I say, my voice sharp and commanding.

  “Sledgehammer?” he repeats, his brows knit together and his nose wrinkles. “You mean a screwdriver?”

  Cameron giggles behind me, and my face goes hot. Flaming red like my skin is on fire and peeling off my face. I want to run, but my feet are planted to the ground.

  “Yes.” I know I spoke the word, but it doesn’t sound like my voice. It’s stronger than me. More assured.

  “Coming right up,” he says and begins filling my glass. It takes an impossibly long time for him to finish. Then he wraps a napkin around the bottom of the glass and hands it to me—our fingers touch.

  My resolve explodes.

  I’m completely lost. Talking about Kate’s death and now Cole watching me like he didn’t break my heart nights ago has my head spinning out of control.

  I can’t...think. Or breathe.

  “Thanks,” I say through my strangled throat and turn back to the party. I’m not a big drinker. Other than the few sips of beer I had from Snake, I’ve never even had alcohol. This summer is all about new beginnings, so I tip my glass back and down every last drop into my parched mouth.

  It burns.

  I want to cough.

  Instead, I clamp my lips shut, and I walk toward the French doors leading to the main party. I’m not some puny little princess who can’t handle rejection. I don’t need Cole to feel sorry for me or for Cameron to pity my loss.

  I’m halfway through the party crowd on my way to the front yard for air when something catches my upper arm, and I’m pulled into the power room.

  The lights are off, and it’s pitch dark, but I can tell by the breathing and size that it’s Cole.

  He smells delicious.

  It’s strange how my first thought is what he smells like, and my second is how his fingers feel still wrapped around my bare arm. How his breath brushes across my cheek and how close he stands.

  “Why did you do that back there? This isn’t you, Baby Girl.” His voice is stern, and his finger pulse along my arm.

  “How would you know what’s me?” I stab my finger into his chest. Massive mistake because now that I’m touching him, I’m burning up from the inside. I want to back away from Cole, but the room is only large enough for the toilet and the pedestal sink.

  Cole takes a deep breath, and he releases my arm. “Fair enough, but that girl back there... she’s not you. This...this isn’t you either.”

  He’s gaze moves over my body. My dress. My shoes. My hair. He takes in another stiff breath, and his thumb lands on my cheek. “Who are you trying to be?”

  I want to move away from him as much as I want to step into him. My thoughts splay in every direction, and I can’t think beyond him telling me I’m not his kind of girl.

  “You don’t know me, remember? You only know you’re not right for me.”

  There’s an energy in my words.

  Speaking them out loud makes me stronger.

  I square up my shoulders and stare into his eyes. I can see the regret he’s trying not to show.

  Cole looks down at my hands, then back to my face. “I shouldn’t have said that the other night. I was confused, and you didn’t give me much time to think. Snake is an okay friend but watching you with him... he’s not...he won’t understand you.”

  “And you do?” My hip juts out, and I drop my hand to it. I’ve never felt this much power, and it’s becoming addictive. “You understand me so well?”

  “I know girls like you.” His voice is harsh. His eyes grow dark, and for a second, I wince at the intensity in his face. Then it’s gone, and he’s Cole again. “You are vulnerable and naive. Just the kind of thing Snake and guys like him go for.”

  I can’t deny either of those accusations, but they both sting. I bite the inside of my cheek, determined not to let an ounce of emotion show on my face. “And you aren’t like Snake? You weren’t thinking of taking advantage?”

  He’s still.

  He doesn’t answer.

  My confidence fades. I don’t like the look in his eyes or that he can no longer look into mine. I make a move for the door handle behind him, and he grabs my hand.

  “No,” he says, his voice harsh and deep. Then he drops my hand.

  I step back as far as the wall will allow.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you, Ash. I don’t know how to answer your question without lying, and the last thing I want there to be between us is a lie.”

  Between us. Us. Is he saying he thinks of him and me as us?

  I’m so confused. Part of me wants to knee him in the junk and make a grab at the door. But it’s the other part of me, the one that’s falling for this guy...hard, that I listen to.

  “I’m not afraid of you, Cole.”

  “Maybe you should be.” He laughs, but as soon as he starts, he stops. “I mean. I don’t know how a guy like me could not hurt a girl like you. You’re different, Baby Girl. A good kind of different, but a scary as hell one too.”

  “I’m scary?” How could I scare this guy? He holds all the cards. Has all the knowledge.

  Has the experience.

  “You have no idea,” he breathes. His voice reverberates through my body, and I feel it pull at my stomach. No. Wait. That isn’t my stomach. It’s something lower, deeper, more tender to the touch. It makes butterflies squirm like worms, and I shiver.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t stay away either. Watching you walk away at the beach, it was like a ten-ton sucker punch to the gut.”

  “Then why didn’t you come after me?”

  He smiles, though his eyes don’t light up. “I was afraid of what I’d do if I caught you.”

  The butterflies are fluttering and squirming again, and that place tight and low in my belly clinchers. I want to reach for him, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. I want to touch him. To crawl into his ink-covered arms and run my fingers over the long parts of his hair.

  I want to know what his skin feels like under his shirt and I want to soak Cole in.

  “I’ve got to get back to the party before Joel knows I stepped away.” He takes my hand in his and places it over his chest. His heart throbs under my palm. “Tomorrow. Meet me on the North beach at noon. I’ll teach you how to surf on my lunch break.”

  “Surf?” I hate the water, but I’m not about to ruin this moment. I also can’t resist taking the last jab at him. He’s put me through hell, and I think that calls for at least a little fight from me. “You sure? Shouldn’t I be afraid to be alone with you?”

  Cole grins, and my whole world jerks to a halt. It’s a genuine grin, and his eyes are bright. He leans in close to me, and his lips touch my forehead. “You have no idea, Baby Girl. You have no idea.”

  Before I can react, he has the bathroom door open and moves in long strides down the hall and back to the bar.

  I stand in the doorway for another few seconds and wrap my arms around myself. I’m shaking, but it’s not from fright or anger.

  It’s elation.

  When I step back out into the party, I’m ready to track down Cameron. I’m smiling, my skin still tingling from his touch. His scent still lingering in the air around me.

  Then I spot my dad. He’s frowning and looking right at me. Into me. I don’t understand at first until he slowly rolls his gaze to the bar and Cole, then back to me.

  Oh crap. Something to actually be scared of. My father’s now paying me full attention, and something in the set of his mouth and anger in his eyes tells me I’ve just made a colossal mistake.

  Chapter 4

  Cole

  It’s a quarter past twelve and I try to pretend my heart isn’t in my throat.

  I’ve gone all out for this girl. Blanket. Picnic basket care of Joel, food, drinks...the fucking works. Why? I don’t know. I guess after the way I cornered her last night I feel like I owe her something.

  She didn’t speak to me after the bathroom incident. I saw her old man take up her arm and lead her out a while after we spoke.

  I’m so fucking mixed up in this girl I half watched my phone the rest of the night thinking she’d send a text and the other half wondering why she hadn’t.

  I’m not hung up. Guys like me don’t get hung up on girls. They are expendable. One gets pissed or a little too demanding and another moves right into their place. Snake’s exact words after his last breakup. He’s right.

  The beach is quiet for a weekday in June. The water is flat and the sky is overcast. The kind of day that packs in the crowds at Joel's and fills my pockets with tips.

  Instead of raking it in, I’m sitting on the sand in my board shorts, hoping Ash takes me up on the surf lesson. My board is in the back of Joel’s if I need to run across the street and grab it. I left it there just in case Ash didn’t show.

 

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