PEG HAD GONE HOME, giving my shoulder a pat before she left. With Gram tucked into bed, and Mom tucked into the Hamptons with her book (after a million reassurances that I was fine), I waited until the sun began to dip below the tree line, then set out for the lake on foot. We only had one car, and despite Gram’s support, I didn’t want to push my luck by asking for the keys. The lake wasn’t that far anyway.
Cicadas hummed in the distant trees as the air cooled. Fireflies sent off little sparks of light over the long grass bordering the sidewalk. I turned down two streets, the scent of summer-warmed pavement and overgrown wildflowers trailing my every step. The walk helped clear my head. While I still didn’t know what to do, I kept reminding myself not to bend.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket. I flicked the screen, groaning when I read the text from Elise: Me and Midnight are out. Will explain tomorrow.
I sincerely hoped they weren’t hooking up again. Elise and Midnight had a want/hate relationship. Like they hated how much they wanted each other. It had been months since they’d last been together, all anger and passion that burned bright and fast, but after the last time, Elise swore no more. Not after the anger had burned out of her and she wanted more than tangled limbs in the alley behind the store on breaks. Midnight was not the candlelight-dinners-and-holding-hands-at-the-movies type, and it ended up hurting them both.
I could go back home. And deal with Mom hovering, trying not to ask me how I was doing, while we both danced around my guilt and her worry. My phone buzzed, startling me enough to make me yelp. A text from Paxton: I’m already here.
I thumbed open the group text: Almost there.
Paxton and I had never been alone for movie on the lake. We’d never been alone outside of work at all. Maybe we wouldn’t be alone if Brady showed up though. Three dots appeared on my phone, disappeared, appeared, and finally: See you soon.
I walked over a small hill. The sun had fully set, and the lake waited at the bottom. The public park was on the other side, where I’d spent most of my summers as a toddler while my mom and Momma Gomez formed an unbreakable friendship, and Elise became the closest thing I’d ever have to a sister. The ancient swings swayed in the gentle breeze—the place where I’d kicked Lance Harrington in the shins after he pushed Elise into the wood chips. Who knew he’d be the one to take my virginity ten years later? Not me, that’s for sure. Lance had been nice, a little awkward, but nice. I didn’t have any hard feelings against him, or him against me. We were just … nice. Okay. Fine. And that wasn’t what either of us had wanted in the end.
Paxton came around from the other side of the community storage shed as I approached.
“No Brady?” I looked around like I’d really expected him to show up.
Paxton chuckled. “After dealing with Midnight all day, did you think he’d willingly spend time in her company off the clock?”
“That bad, huh?” Even though I already knew, thanks to Elise’s updates.
“The rewinder ate Interview with the Vampire under his watch.”
Poor Brady.
The silence settled over us, not uncomfortable—we weren’t ever really uncomfortable around each other—but we always had Midnight or Elise around. I tucked my hands into my pockets, mainly because I didn’t know what else to do with them.
Paxton cleared his throat. “Did you still want to watch the movie?”
“Do you even have the movie?” Elise had been the one who rented it.
“No.” He grinned at me. “But I did go to all that trouble breaking into the shed.” He gestured to a boat resting on the sandy shore near the “beach” part of the lake.
I toed at the pebbles lining the path around the park, trying to keep my voice light and casual. “It would be a shame to waste your efforts.”
We left his laptop and our phones on the grass near the shed. Once I settled into my seat, he pushed the boat off the shore, climbing in from behind. Our knees touched as we faced each other. Water lapped at the sides of the boat as he rowed, and I did not notice the way his biceps flexed under his T-shirt from the movement. A firefly skimmed the surface of the lake, then took off into the night. Crickets chirped from the cattails lining the opposite shore. Without the movie to provide the usual distraction, I felt like I’d fallen into a scene from one of my mom’s books. Except this wasn’t a romance. Just a late-night boat ride between friends.
We reached the center of the lake, and Paxton stopped rowing, letting the oars rest in their metal holders. “I’m really glad you came out tonight.”
The full moon offered enough light for me to note the concern. I tried to gather that Evans steel, but something in his expression brought all my fears and insecurities bubbling to the surface. Not just his concern, but it almost looked like he understood. As if he knew exactly how I felt, which was ridiculous. He wasn’t anywhere online. I’d already tried to google him months ago, and other than becoming an inadvertent expert in all things Bill Paxton, it had been a complete waste of my time. Paxton had no idea how I felt. But with all of it reflecting back at me nonetheless, a fresh wave of pain rolled in.
“I don’t want to talk about the game.” I swallowed. “Or anything that happened after.”
“What do you want to talk about, Macy Mae?” He rested his arms on his knees and leaned forward. “Tell me something about you no one knows.”
No one knew I thought about him while I took care of myself one night, but I’d be keeping that particular moment to myself. Forever. “When I was a little kid, I used to think Gram’s Vanna White dolls were going to eat me in my sleep for not playing with them.”
“Morbid.” He thrummed his fingers against his leg. “What’s your favorite color?”
“What is this? Twenty questions?”
“It can be. Depends on how many questions it takes, I suppose.”
“How many questions it takes for what?” I gave him a wary look. If he was trying to work around to asking me about Eric and Jessica, I wasn’t interested.
“For me to get to know you better.” He ran a hand through his hair. In the moonlight, his hazel eyes looked more soft bronze than green. “We never hang out alone outside of work, and we should, because I only like work when you’re there. But I don’t even know what your favorite color is, and that is a very basic thing to know about someone.”
“All right.” What did he mean when he said he only liked work when I was there? Why was I even thinking that? It had to be the moonlight putting weird ideas into my head. Hopefully these ones would stay out of my dreams this time. “My favorite color is blue.”
“What kind of blue? Navy? Aquamarine? Sky? Robin’s egg? Turquoise? I’m going to need you to be more specific here.”
“The blue of our kiddie pool when it’s filled with water and my mom is dipping her toes in while she reads a romance novel and is totally relaxed and happy. And the kind of blue the sky turns right before a spring storm, when it has just a touch of gray. The blue of Gram’s favorite Vanna’s Choice yarn when she’s creating for her own pleasure and not for competition. Those kinds of blues.”
Paxton’s face lit up. “Now that’s an answer.”
“What about you? What’s your favorite color?”
“Chartreuse,” he said with absolute sincerity.
I snorted. “No one’s favorite color is chartreuse.”
“It’s mine, though my reason is significantly less poetic than yours. For the longest time I thought chartreuse was a shade of maroon, and when I found out it was actually yellow-green, it was like knowing a secret. Half the people in the world have no idea what color it really is.”
“You are such a dork.” I smiled, a real smile, for the first time since finding out what Jessica had done to me. “What’s your favorite movie?” The repair side didn’t get to put their favorite movies up on the wall.
“Say Anything.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you just picking a movie from my favorites on the wall?”
“It’s one of your favorites too? I had no idea.” He gave me a slow grin. The liar. “‘I gave her my heart and she gave me a pen’ is the most quotable line, and that scene where Lloyd stands outside Diane’s window with the boom box is an important moment in cinematic history.”
“Anyone could figure that out from a Google search. That’s not what makes a movie great. If it’s really your favorite, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Okay.” He rubbed his chin. “I don’t proclaim to be an expert on reviews, but I think people might see Lloyd as pushy, calling Diane eight times, standing outside her window after she ended things, and maybe he is, but I see it another way too.”
“Oh?” I sat up a little straighter. I saw it another way too, and I’d only ever had Gram and Mom to talk to about this movie. Everyone else thought it was too old or irrelevant, not really understanding how it was ahead of its time.
“I think with Lloyd, Diane finally had the freedom to be who she wanted to be, not who her dad expected her to be, and he knew that.” Paxton’s cheeks flushed.
“Keep going.” I nudged his knee with mine. “This is good stuff.”
“Take Diane’s dad for example.” He cleared his throat. “He only had a real problem with Lloyd, enough to want her to end things, after she admitted to having sex. And she was the one who initiated it. Like, I don’t know, like she no longer fit this box he tried to shove her into.”
“Exactly. That is exactly it.” My pulse picked up, the way it always did whenever I dug into the deeper meaning of movies. Especially my favorite movie. “Her dad expected his version of perfection from his daughter at the cost of her own happiness.”
“And Lloyd is, like, the opposite of her dad.” Paxton’s voice had become just as animated as mine. “All his friends are women, he lives with his sister, who is a single mom. It’s, like, the people he surrounded himself with taught him how to be better.”
“And that one time he tried to be a dude-bro and hang out with the other dude-bros, he saw what a bunch of shits they were, how he would never be like them or fit in with them.”
“Yep.” Paxton leaned in closer, like he was drawn to our minds melding or something. “Diane never wanted to give him that pen and end things.”
“It was all her dad trying to manipulate her, the way he manipulated those old people out of their money. And Lloyd knew that because he was the only person who ever bothered to get to know the real Diane.”
“Yeah.” Paxton sat back, as if suddenly realizing how small the boat was and how much we’d tilted toward each other. “Anyway. I like movies that say something. That are more than what people expect them to be. That’s why it’s my favorite.”
“That’s why it’s my favorite too.” I didn’t know if Paxton had purposely tried to distract me from everything going on, but I finally felt normal again. Like I could talk about Jessica without breaking down. I bit my lip to keep it from trembling. “It was on the evening news tonight. That’s how my mom and Gram found out.”
Paxton swore under his breath. “How did Bizzy take it?”
Gram knew more about Paxton’s history before Honeyfield than anyone else because of Gigi. I once asked Gram why he moved here, and she yelled at me for trying to gossip, even though the Bees were the worst gossips in town. But she wouldn’t speak of it, and I knew better than to bug her for information she didn’t want to share.
“She threatened to peel the skin off the woman who took my pictures and feed her to wild dogs. So.” I shrugged. “I’d say she took it pretty well.”
He laughed, and that warm, rich sound made my toes tingle. “I always did like your grandma, even if she still terrifies the shit out of me.”
“That makes two of us.” Though, truth be told, I was more afraid for anyone who messed with me or my mom. A lifetime of living under Gram’s roof taught me how to weather her storms. I picked a piece of lint off my shirt and flicked it into the water. “She doesn’t want me to shut down any of my accounts. She thinks I should just keep posting like normal.”
Paxton stiffened. “Why?”
“I don’t know.” I let out a breath. “She filled my head with a bunch of war talk and not hiding and brought Vanna White and Playboy into it. It was a whole thing. And I sort of agree with her. I don’t want to give people online the satisfaction of chasing me away.”
“But sometimes stepping back is the only way to keep them from eating you alive.” The invisible, yet palpable, shadows gathering around him let me know he wasn’t just talking about me anymore, but he didn’t offer up any more information.
For the millionth time in the last year, I wanted to ask him what had happened. How did he come to live with his grandma? Why wouldn’t he learn how to drive or use the Internet beyond Amazon? But he wouldn’t appreciate me poking at his demons, and he hadn’t pushed me when I didn’t want to talk about mine, so I tilted my head back until I couldn’t see anything other than the endless night sky. “Do you believe in aliens?”
“Wow. You’re really bad at casually trying to change the subject.”
“Shut up.” I gave him a light shove, but the motion rocked the boat, sending me sprawling into him and nearly dumping us both overboard.
That easy amusement he always seemed to carry in my presence danced in the air between us as he held my arms to help me up. My hands rested against his chest, so close I could feel his breath sweep across my lips. Neither of us moved. The humor on his face faded. Slowly, his fingers trailed down my arms, a gentle caress, bringing out goose bumps that had nothing to do with the chilly lake air. My gaze drifted to his mouth.
I could’ve kissed him. I could’ve …
Then Eric, Jessica, everything I’d read about myself on Twitter blasted through my brain. I scrambled back. Too fast. With too much force. The boat rocked the opposite way and I flipped right over the edge and into the water.
Paxton’s deep laugh rang out over the lake as I sputtered and choked my way to the surface. It was too early in the summer for the lake to properly warm, and my tennis shoes pulled at my feet like anchors. The small waves I’d created rippled against the side of the boat. I pushed my hair out of my face as I treaded water and glared at him.
He’d leaned over the side of the boat, resting his dry arms on the ledge, like he didn’t have a care in the world. “If you say please, I might help you up.”
I ground my chattering teeth together. “Please.”
He held out his hand, and I latched on a second before he saw the flash in my eyes and tried to let go. Too late. I had a firm grip, and I tugged. Hard. He went crashing into the water.
He broke the surface and shook his wet head, which sent droplets flying toward me. “You are so in for it now.”
I yelped and swam away from him, but he caught me around the waist and I was laughing so hard, I swallowed a mouthful of water and choked. He held me above the surface while I coughed until I could breathe again. He still held my waist when I put my arms around his neck. To stay afloat. My light pink tank top might as well have been white once I hit the water, which made my red bra completely visible, even in the dark.
Paxton glanced down. “I think my new favorite color is red.”
“Hey. Eyes up here, perv.”
“Sorry. Your bra is just … there.” He paused and turned his head. Our boat had drifted forty feet away. “We lost our boat.”
I laughed and took in another mouthful of the lake.
“Okay. You clearly can’t be trusted around water.” Paxton held me tight as he swam for the shore. I crawled up onto the grass, coughing a few times before I collapsed onto my stomach.
He lay next to me on his back, hands tucked behind his head. “You know, as soon as you’re done dying, you have to retrieve our boat.”
I leaned up enough to shove him, then fell back onto the grass. The soft blades tickled my cheek and hid my smile. I didn’t turn toward him though. If I did, I knew I’d want to finish what I’d considered on the boat before I flipped into the water. Then I’d be doing a different sort of drowning. But I couldn’t, under any circumstance, kiss him. Not when my life was already a complete mess.
By the time I got back home Gram and Mom had gone to bed, so it was like I had the house to myself. For once. I still had too much nervous energy bouncing around inside me to sleep, so I put on the TV. I had the recliner fully extended out in the living room, my quilt pulled up to my chin. The Bees had made this one for me and I’d had it for years. Pretty floral fabrics blended together in a burst of rainbow and life. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off had just started on TBS, and I decided to watch even though I’d rented it fifty million times already.
My phone buzzed, and my pulse quickened at the text from Paxton: Whatcha doin?
Me: Watching Ferris Burlesque
Paxton: Kinky
Me: Bueller, not burlesque asdfghjkl autocorrect
Paxton: Rental or TV?
Me: TV, TBS
Paxton: Now I’m watching too. I’d forgotten what a dick Ferris was to Cameron
Me: Total dick. Type, delete, type, delete. It’s late.
Paxton: Can’t sleep, so I’m watching Ferris Burlesque with you
What was going on? He usually went to bed way early in the summer so he could tend to the rabbits in the morning. Why couldn’t he sleep? I knew why I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about how close I’d come to kissing him tonight. His mouth would’ve grazed mine, soft at first. I would’ve run my hand up his chest, dragging him closer. My lips would’ve parted and he would’ve glided his tongue over mine.…
My phone buzzed twice in my hand. Two texts from Paxton: I always thought Ferris’s sister was hotter than Sloane. The next: You fall asleep on me?
Me: I’m here. If you think Jennifer Grey is so hot, you should have no problem with watching Dirty Dancing for the next movie on the lake.
Paxton: You say that like I don’t already own the collector’s edition
Because I couldn’t stand it anymore. Me: Why are you really awake?
Paxton: Nosy
Me: Bunnies throwing a wild party in the backyard? Too much noise?
Paxton: Funny, but no. I’m just thinking about something from tonight.
Me: Which part?
He waited so long to respond, I thought he’d fallen asleep. I put my phone on the arm of the recliner and snuggled back into my quilt. Ferris had just declared himself the Sausage King of Chicago when Paxton finally texted me back: The part right before you flipped into the water.
My face heated. Me: Oh
Paxton: Night, Macy Mae
I didn’t text him back.