In my opinion, there were two types of girls.

The ones who acted first and thought later, going after what they wanted, getting it, and then taking a moment to pause after the fact, wondering if they had made the right decision and risking regret because they didn’t wonder this sooner. These were the girls who did things on impulse, like dying their hair a radical color without having a consultation first with their stylist or getting a tattoo of a boy’s name somewhere on their body, or even just getting a tattoo in general after liking butterflies a whole five seconds.

That was the first type.

And then there were the ones who think and overthink and then rethink what they were originally thinking, knowing what they want but then convincing themselves maybe they don’t know what they want, getting confused, second-guessing their own hearts or not trusting them enough to follow. The girls who could talk their way out of any decision. Who hesitated committing to a nonpermanent hair color without sitting down with a professional first. The temporary tattoo wearers. The ones who whispered words to boys who were asleep so they couldn’t hear them: Please don’t hurt me and Please be real and I like you so, so much.

The girls who watched love pull back and walk away. Who stayed silent against the lockers until they were left alone and then spoke behind their hand between heartache. Who finished out their shifts under a cloud instead of chasing after the sun.

I was that girl. Wanting something and knowing where it was but going in the opposite direction. Wanting something, but wait, maybe I didn’t or I shouldn’t or I couldn’t.

I drove home because I was the girl who went home. I sat on my couch after washing off the best smell in the world and pretended I didn’t miss it. I doodled the same name over and over and told myself I wouldn’t think about him when he was the only thing I could think about.

The other girl was fearless and I was afraid. The other girl let Jamie catch her and I stood on the edge, worried he wouldn’t because I didn’t know which boy held out his arms: the one I met that first day who laughed at love or the one who could promise it.

I didn’t know what to do. Every time I let myself move toward Jamie, I would find a reason to stop. Even getting as far as my car, I still hesitated and wondered if I was doing the right thing, and now I sat in my driveway, keys in the ignition but not turned on. Not getting that far before I started second-guessing.

I ran out of my house knowing where I wanted to go and who I wanted to be with, and now I wasn’t sure.

Come on,” I groaned, eyes closing and head dropping back against the seat. I felt the beginnings of tears prick behind my lids.

I should’ve talked to Syd earlier. Maybe if I would’ve instead of lying to my best girl, telling her I was fine so I wouldn’t have to reveal why I wasn’t, I’d be able to make a damn decision. Go to him or don’t. One or the other.

“Claim me, babe.”

God, I wanted to. And in the same breath, I was terrified.

Was Jamie McCade even claimable?

My phone started ringing.

Opening my eyes and turning my head, I looked down at my passenger seat and read the name of the caller flashing on the screen.

Shit. I completely forgot. I promised my mom I would get on my dad about going to the doctor’s again. She was probably calling to remind me of that.

I hit Answer and pressed the phone to my ear.

“I am so, so sorry. I forgot to call him,” I said as a greeting, expecting my mother.

“Princess, it’s your father.”

“Oh.” I blinked. That was unexpected. “Hi, Daddy. How are you feeling?” I asked, wiping away smudged mascara from underneath my eyes.

“Expected something like this from your mother, Tori. Not from you,” he replied, voice hard-edged and angry. “Told you I was fine and you can’t trust me to handle things if and when I feel it’s necessary.”

“It wasn’t heartburn, John! And now we know!” my mother hollered out in the background. “Thank God we didn’t wait for you to handle things!”

I felt my brow tighten.

What in the world?

“Doc said what I was feeling mimicked the sensations of heartburn, Dee,” my father argued away from the phone. “Wasn’t like I was that off base.”

“You were completely off base!” she argued back.

“What are you both talking about?” I probed, wondering why I was in the middle of a conversation the two of them seemed to be having.

The line made a clicking noise, then my dad started talking.

“That doc came by the house about an hour ago,” he said, his voice insinuating I knew what he was referring to. “Now, princess, I know you’re just looking out for your old man, but that was something that should’ve been cleared with me first. Don’t like people just showing up at my house. Especially if I don’t even know ’em. Hell, he was lucky I didn’t shoot first and ask questions later. I was in my right.”

“Oh, John. Don’t be ridiculous,” my mother scoffed, her voice clear now and as loud as his. She had picked up the other house phone. “You were not in your right to shoot him. My God,” she added.

“Got a No Trespassin’ sign up, Dee. I was in my right.”

“I’m sorry,” I cut in before my mom had a chance to keep disagreeing. “But I really have no idea what you’re both talking about. Did a doctor come see you or something?”

“You know he did, princess. You arranged the damn thing.”

I squinted out the front windshield. “What? I didn’t arrange anything. Who said that?”

“Said he was doing a favor for his brother. That he insisted,” Dad replied. “Mc-something. I don’t know. I can’t read this chicken scratch handwriting. Here, Dee.”

Mc-something?

Oh, my God.

I sucked in a breath, stomach tensing as I asked, “What?” on a whisper.

“McCade. His name was McCade,” my mom said. “Ooh, and he was young, wasn’t he, John? I didn’t know doctors could be that young.”

“His name was McCade?” I asked in a quick voice, sitting forward in my seat and gripping the phone harder.

“That’s another thing,” Dad grumbled. “Not sure I should be taking orders from some kid. What’s he know anyway?”

“I like that he’s young. Means his mind is fresh on the books,” Mom contended.

“Would you both quit arguing and pay attention to what I’m saying?” I shrieked, now gripping hold on the steering wheel with one hand. “You said his name was McCade? Is that what I heard?”

“Yes. Dr. McCade,” my mom answered, also speaking in a way it was as if I should know this information already. “His first name is Travis.”

“How’d you know that?” Dad asked, sounding flippant.

“It says so right here on the prescription. Really, if you would just wear your glasses—”

“Forget the glasses!” I interrupted. “Jamie had his brother come to your house and treat you? He…he really did that? Are you sure his last name was McCade?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“Pumpkin, why are you acting like you don’t know anything about this?” Mom asked.

Because I don’t know anything about this,” I informed both of them, breathing heavy now I was so worked up. “I can’t believe…wait, what did he tell you? That it’s not heartburn? What else?”

“Went through two bottles of Tums,” Mom mumbled under her breath. “What a waste.”

Dad exhaled heavily in my ear. I pictured him glaring at my mother all while holding her hand and giving it a loving squeeze.

It was how they operated.

“Said my pressure is up. Took some blood and told me to go get some tests or something,” he shared. “Said the chest pain could be from my pressure, but he wanted to make sure. Also gave me a prescription for some dog scan.”

“A CAT scan, John,” Mom corrected.

“Same damn thing.”

“And he said something about you losing weight,” Mom added. “I heard him.”

“Don’t remember nothin’ about that,” Dad returned.

“He wrote it down. Again, if you’d just put on your glasses…”

“Oh, my God,” I murmured as they continued to debate in my ear, and this was strictly in reaction to what I was realizing, not because of my parents and their bickering.

They bickered out of love all the time. I was pretty immune to it. I wasn’t reacting to that. I was reacting to what I was thinking about—last night with Jamie and our conversation before we started eating. The one we had right after I hung up from my mom.

Travis McCade.

My hand slid off the wheel to press to my stomach at the same time as my eyes lowered and lost focus.

“He told me to give it another day. That’s what he said,” I muttered mostly to myself. “He…he told me to wait and see how you were doing ’cause he knew I was worrying and he didn’t want me to. He was taking care of it.”

He said it like a promise. Give it another day. He promised me.

“What’s that, pumpkin?” my mom asked.

“Jamie got his brother to go check on you.” I swallowed thickly, shaking my head. “I didn’t ask him to do that. I—I didn’t even know he had a brother.”

Why didn’t I know that? Didn’t I ever ask him questions? I know he asked me questions.

“I didn’t know doctors still made house calls,” Mom said on a chuckle. “Lucky for us since your father is so stubborn.”

“Still on the line, Dee,” Dad pointed out.

“He had his brother go check on you,” I repeated, barely above a whisper.

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips together, breathing deeply and quickly through my nose and feeling it tingle.

Jamie did this. He took care of something that meant everything to me. Didn’t have to. Wasn’t asked. He just did it. He was always taking care of things.

That was the kind of man he was.

“Baby girl, I missed that. I’m sorry. What did you say?” Mom asked. “Oh, and also, would you like to share how you know this McCade boy? I don’t remember you ever mentioning him.”

Claim me, babe.” Jamie’s voice whispered in my ear and over my heart. I started breathing heavier.

“I need to go,” I said instead of answering my mom or repeating. “Um, can I just…” I held the phone between my ear and shoulder and started the car while reaching for my seat belt. “Can I call you guys later? I’m really glad you got checked out, Daddy.”

“Still something you could’ve warned me about,” he grumbled. “Almost shot the man.”

“Oh, for God’s sakes, John, you were not even carrying,” Mom reminded him.

“Okay, great!” I called out, realizing if I didn’t hang up, they’d just keep at it with each other and leave me on the line as an afterthought. “Glad you didn’t shoot him. Let me know how your tests go. Love you both.”

I hit End and dropped my phone on the seat before backing out of my driveway.

A fifteen-minute drive was managed in ten. And this was with traffic.

I was in a bit of a hurry. I also may have run a stop sign.

I parked my car behind Jamie’s Jeep and dropped my keys twice on my sprint up the driveway and onto the porch, finally succeeding in tucking them in my back jean-short pocket before I started knocking.

My hands were shaking and my heart was so happy to be here, it was leading a parade inside my chest.

I patted my thighs restlessly and stood on my toes to peer through the small rectangular window next to the door. I rang the bell and knocked again, this time using the side of my fist instead of my knuckles.

Nothing.

Hmm.

Holding on to one of the accent beams, I leaned off the porch to make sure I saw both of Jamie’s vehicles in the driveway, his bike and his Jeep, confirmed that, then knocked and rang again.

Nothing.

“Okayyy.”

I wasn’t typically the type of person to let myself into a house where I didn’t live, past or present, but I was desperate and anxious and here to claim a boy I sort of already belonged to.

Manners were being shoved aside right now.

I twisted the handle, and the door opened freely.

“Hello?” I called out, stepping inside and peering around the entryway.

The house was quiet. My voice echoed off the tall ceiling and most of the lights were off. As I leaned to the side, I caught sight of a warm glow flickering in the room behind the stairway.

“Jamie?”

I moved down the hallway and stepped inside the large living room/kitchen space.

The fireplace was on. That was the light I was seeing. Orange and yellow flames danced behind a panel of glass.

He was home. Somewhere…

He wouldn’t leave the fire going.

After checking the upstairs and every room on the first floor, I pushed the slider open and stepped out onto the deck. I moved to the railing and curled my fingers around the wood, looking out at the ocean.

Jamie.

My fingers tensed on the rail. My stomach clenched. And my heart, Lord, my heart was going crazy. Jumping up and down and pointing with frantic fingers, yelling, There he is! Go get him! Go!

Jamie was on his board, riding a wave just under where it curled.

I knew it was him even though he had to be at least two hundred feet away, partially obstructed by the wave he was riding, and harder to see thanks to the setting sun.

But I knew it was him.

He looked like he was controlling the water. Every drop of it. Something so powerful moving with his will. He made it look effortless.

Only my Jamie could do that.

I crossed the deck and descended the stairs, keeping my eyes on the water and on Jamie as he paddled out again. When I hit sand, I kicked my flip-flops off so they wouldn’t slow me down and took off running down the pathway that led to the beach.

Jamie was riding another wave when the sand beneath my feet became damp. I stopped and stood there, watching, so close to him now if I closed my eyes, it wouldn’t be the ocean I was smelling, but him.

He whipped his board left and rode in toward the shore, and when his head came up and our eyes locked, I lifted my hand to my stomach and waved.

I waved…

Honestly, I didn’t know what else to do. I mean, I was pretty certain my heart had decorated signs at this point and was holding them up for Jamie to read as if it was standing front row at his rock concert.

Come hold us, boy! We love the sound your heart makes!

With all that happening, I felt good about a wave.

When Jamie stuck his board under his arm and started walking in, I moved closer, staring at him and studying his expression. Eyes serious and those thick brows shadowing them. Jaw tight. No smile. Not even a hint of one as he shook the water out of his hair.

He didn’t look angry. He looked tortured and frustrated and uncertain of my motives. He was gauging me as he moved, as I moved.

And I swore if his heart could speak like mine, it would be telling me to run to him.

Water squished beneath my feet and crashed against my ankles as the breeze off the ocean blew underneath my top. I tucked my hair behind my ear and stopped walking when I was an arm’s length away.

Jamie kept moving and cut that distance in half.

He always put us closer.

“You here for somethin’?” he asked, voice even and brows lifting in question.

Head tipped back due to how close we were standing now, I blinked up at him. I had so much to say. Ready to say. The words danced on my tongue, but Jamie was acting like he wouldn’t care if I was here for something or not. Or that he knew I wasn’t because he knew me. He knew which girl I was.

I didn’t have a tattoo on my body, and Jamie knew that.

So instead of asking the questions I needed to ask or telling him the words I only told him after I knew he was asleep, I became that other girl.

My body leapt across that tiny distance separating us, my hands wrapped around his neck, gaining purchase, and as I rolled up onto my tiptoes, I yanked Jamie down at the same time, claiming his mouth right there in the middle of a public beach.

One that just so happened to be dead at the moment, but the point I was trying to make was coming across loud and clear. I was certain of this.

Because when my lips hit Jamie’s, his board hit the sand. Then immediately after that his hands snaked around my waist and started roaming and gripping as he bent farther, mouth opening and tongue touching my lip. Feeling that, I opened mine, and that was when we went from kissing to eating each other alive.

For a solid second.

Gasping inside our kiss, I broke away, body going rigid as I shrank back and pressed my heels into the sand. I touched my fingertips to my lips and blinked up at him.

“You smoked?” I asked Jamie, knowing already that he had.

Nicotine saturated my mouth.

I felt Jamie’s hands slide to my hips and hold there. I heard his voice, deep and rich and wrapped around a chuckle, say something but I couldn’t make out what it was.

Eyes lowered to the sand, the only voice I could hear was my own.

He smoked because of you. You did this. If you were that other girl, this never would’ve happened.

“Babe.”

My head jerked up. I blinked Jamie into focus and felt tears building.

“I like you,” I admitted, voice soft and trembling. “I like you so, so much. Not just your hair or the sex stuff. More than that. I lied. I’ve been lying. I am a really good liar, Jamie. It’s a talent I’m not proud of and I’m sorry for it.”

Mouth twitching, Jamie brought his hands to my face and bent down. “You’re a shitty liar, babe,” he said, catching my tears with his thumb.

“I’m not. I’m really good at it.”

“Yeah? You’re so good at it, how come I’ve known for months?”

“You didn’t.”

“Did,” he argued.

I shook my head between his hands.

His brows pulled together. “Babe, you suck at lying. You’ve been feelin’ me for as long as I’ve been feelin’ you. Ain’t just me seein’ it either. Ask your girl.”

“Not like this.”

He stared at me for a breath, expression sticking, then his brows slowly lifted and his face got soft.

“I’m feeling you more than you think,” I confessed, getting that out quick and continuing on before he had chance to interrupt me. “I know you’ve known about me liking you. Even when I denied it. And if we were having this conversation months ago, then you’d be correct in saying you know how I feel. But we’re not. We’re having it now and you don’t know. You have no idea. I liked you when you slashed those tires, Jamie. That was the first day I really liked you. And it’s just been building. It was slow and I could feel it, then it built really, really fast. It’s more now. I doodle your name on notepads, do you know that? And in my ticket book. On napkins. I’m constantly doing it. And I say things to you when you’re asleep and you can’t hear me. I say so many things. And I watch you and I think about you.” He started coming in to kiss me, and I pushed firm against his chest. “Wait! No, please, let me say this. I have to get this out.”

“Said enough, babe,” he claimed, still leaning closer.

“I didn’t! There’s so much. I—” I shook my head. “It’s my turn. You said you liked my big ass, remember? Now it’s my turn.”

Jamie’s mouth twitched again as he stared at me. He breathed a laugh, then he ordered, “Hurry up,” and stopped pressing against my hands but stayed bent down and close, thumb sweeping across my cheek.

My eyes narrowed and my mouth grew tight. Immediately, it was as if I hadn’t been emotional about any of this at all.

“I’m admitting things to you I’ve never admitted,” I pointed out, my words dripping attitude. “This might take some time.”

“Condense it.”

“I’ve got a lot to say. Honestly, you might want to have a seat.”

“Give me the gist of it, babe.”

“I am not rushing this, Jamie McCade. This is too important.”

Legs,” he growled.

I tipped my chin up, repeating on a hurried whisper, “I’m not rushing this.”

Now his eyes were the ones narrowing. “I’m two seconds away from takin’ you right here, not givin’ a fuck if anyone sees us or not and also not botherin’ with grabbin’ protection,” he informed me, speaking the truth. I could hear it in his voice. “Condense it,” he snarled.

“You smoked because I didn’t claim you.”

“And?”

“This is me claiming you.”

Jamie’s eyes returned to their normal size. His lips parted.

“I really want you to know what all I like,” I added, sounding desperate because I was. I needed to tell him. My fingers wrapped around his ribs. “Please,” I whispered. “Let me tell you my truths.”

Jamie pressed his lips together and drew in a deep breath, looking like hearing that meant something big to him. Then dropping one hand to my hip, he slid the other to the back of my neck and curled his fingers there, squeezing as he dipped closer.

“Give me what you need to give me,” he began. His voice was rough and heavy with meaning. “I’m talkin’ what’s urgent, babe, then you hold on to the rest until I’m moving inside you. I wanna feel all that beauty while you give me that. You got more to share after we’re done, which straight up, is gonna be a while, you got time, ’cause ain’t no fuckin’ way are you leavin’ me. Probably won’t make it to the bed to fuck, but you’ll be wakin’ up there. That’s for damn sure. You got all night to tell me what you need to say.”

I smiled big, liking the sound of that plan better than my own.

“Maybe we get as far as in front of the fireplace?” I suggested, stepping closer so my hands wrapped around his slippery back. I leaned in and kissed his chest. “I like this,” I shared, tasting saltwater on my lips. “You make me love the ocean.”

Jamie’s entire body tensed up, his fingers on my neck squeezing deeper now.

“Two seconds,” he warned.

I tipped my head back and looked into his eyes. Shit. What was urgent? Everything. How could I choose? I thought about it as I sucked on my lip.

“Babe,” Jamie pressed.

“I like how you take care of things that are precious to me,” I rushed out, knowing that was important and at the very top of my Things I Like About Jamie McCade list. “My nana gave me that pie plate before she died, and I can never replace it. It’s the only thing I have of hers. I love it. I won’t bake a pie in anything else, and you were careful with it, Jamie. You could’ve thought it was silly when Syd told you what it meant to me, but you—”

“Syd didn’t tell me,” he interrupted.

I blinked up at him, confused. “What?”

“She didn’t tell me,” he repeated. “She asked me to take it to you, but she didn’t say shit about the plate.”

“She didn’t?” I watched him shake his head while thinking back to that night. “But you said you knew it meant something to me. You acted like you knew.”

Jamie shrugged lightly. “Just figured it was somethin’ you cared about since it looked old as shit. My mom keeps dishes like that in this special cabinet. Know how she is with them. Thought maybe you were the same.”

I inhaled sharply through my nose. It tingled. Oh, God…

“What?” he asked.

I blinked at him again, feeling the tears building behind my lashes and, a second later, the quivering in my lip.

I was not a crier. Not at all, but God, I couldn’t help it. He was killing me.

Jamie watched my emotions take hold. His brow furrowed. “Babe?”

“I can’t condense it!” I cried, face wet now and voice breaking again. “My God, it’s impossible! I like so many things about you and each one of them is urgent! Even little things, like how you play with my hair sometimes when we’re falling asleep, I like that so much! I even tried recording you doing it one night with my phone after your eyes were closed but my eyes were closing, too, and I basically only ended up with a video of your elbow.” My shoulders dropped on an exhale. “I kept it, though. I like your elbow,” I added softly.

Jamie slowly grinned.

“I can’t condense it,” I repeated through my tears, a little quieter this time. I reached up and held his face. “I can’t choose what’s most important because I know I’ll think of something that’s just as important and I might not think of it until an hour from now. Or in the morning. And I don’t want you thinking the way you look at me isn’t something I like as much as something else. It’s equally important.”

“Fuck it then. Don’t condense it,” he suggested, grin softening to a smile as he stepped into me. His grip slid down my body, over my ass to the backs of my thighs. Our foreheads touched. “Just start listin’ what you like, Legs,” Jamie said, voice dropping low and quiet. “I’ll know what you say now means just as much as what you tell me when I get inside you. Same goes for what you think of and feel like sharin’ tomorrow. And the next day. And next fuckin’ month. That work for you?”

I nodded, liking that he was thinking about next month. “That works for me,” I told him. Then I gasped when Jamie lifted me off the sand and guided my legs to wrap around his waist. I slid my hands to his neck and held on.

We started moving.

“What about your board?” I asked, speaking against his lips as we kissed softly.

“Fuck my board. I’ll get it later.”

I smiled. He was always saying that.

“’Kay,” I mumbled.

Jamie pushed his tongue inside my mouth, pulling back to suck on my lip. “How much you like me, babe?” he asked.

“So much,” I whispered.

“Yeah?”

I nodded as he took us up the stairs.

“You gonna start namin’ shit then?”

I smiled again, then I pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his ear. I closed my eyes. “You want a truth?” I whispered.

“Yeah.”

I love you.