off, making excuses. It’s the reason I ran to Indy to stay at my Dad’s. Seeing her—and knowing she’s stayed in touch with Hayden—cut something open inside of me—fresh wounds over old ones. My jealousy reared its head, and I don’t like the monster that emotion turned me into.
I’m nearly to the door when someone tugs on my arm and pulls me into the hedges that line June’s house. My fists clench, ready to fend off some drunk asshole, but before I take a swing I realize it’s my brother.
“Dude, it’s wet over here. What the hell?” I brush droplets from my pants and sleeves, then lift my foot to check my shoes for mud.
“I told Abby,” he says. I look up at him and wonder if that’s supposed to make sense.
“That it’s wet out here and she shouldn’t romp around in the bushes? Yeah, man. Good call. You really saved her.” I look back down to the clump of mud on my Nikes. These things were pristine.
“Jackass. I told her you love her,” he says. My eyes shoot up again, and my fists reform.
“What the fuck, dude?” My body is overrun with the falling sensation, the same one I got in that creepy elevator ride at the amusement park that drops you several stories at a time over and over just for fun. I don’t like the ride, and I don’t like this feeling now.
Hayden grabs my shoulders and his fingers dig in enough that I’m forced to give him my attention. I’m also a breath away from starting a lawn brawl with him.
“She loves you, too. You know she does. Hell, I know she does. And I’m truly, one-hundred percent happy about that.”
I stare at him, at a loss for words. The elevator in my gut pauses for a moment while I register everything, but it yo-yos again when my mind processes what comes next in the chain of events.
“No, I went down that road, and it was . . .”
“It wasn’t the right time,” he fills in.
It’s not what I was going to say, but his point is more valid. Chasing Abby Cortez was a rush. Tasting her was a dream, and loving her was an epiphany. The only thing that made it not possible was the damage it created between me and the man squeezing my arms out of their sockets.
“You would be okay with this?” I turn my head in skepticism.
“Tor, you have June. And you know what? I have Abby.” I happen to glance over his shoulder through the window as he says those words, spying inside just as June rushes through the main room with a stack of plates in her hand, playing hostess.
“She has to regret the idea of throwing this party,” I say, changing the subject.
Hayden turns to see what I’m seeing, then laughs.
“She does, especially since her mom is totally lit. The adults are all drinking and the rule was that the seniors should stick to soda,” he says.
“That didn’t happen,” I predict. He shakes his head in response as we take in the scene inside.
I could find more ways to stall, and I think my brother would let me because he knows how very little I enjoy being vulnerable. But Abby cuts across the room we’re studying, dressed in a dark gray sweater almost exactly like mine and leggings that hug her curves. The sight of her makes my fingers flex, imagining the path they could take from her knee up to her breasts. Her hair is down in waves, and her lips sport her favorite shade of pink. She flips her hair over one shoulder with a laugh, and for a moment my breath stops, her eyes looking right at me.
“It’s too bright in there. She can’t see out,” Hayden assures me.
My shoulders relax, but my muscles tense again almost immediately because I know I’m about to do something about what my brother said.
“You’re sure?” I ask again, needing the extra push.
“Tory . . . go,” he says in a low voice, pushing me forward.
I leave the brush and stomp the mud from my shoes, waiting while my brother does the same. Taking away my choice, he opens the door, pushing it wide enough that people see me trailing behind him. If I turned and ran now, Abby would hear about it. She’d look for me, wondering where I went.
I follow Hayden inside and close the door behind me, surveying the room for familiar faces. June spots me