Текст книги "Truth or Beard"

Автор книги: Penny Reid

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“Naw, Cletus. I don’t want to be a bother.”

His hand gripped me tighter. “Nonsense. You’re no bother. But I have to make a stop before I take you home. What about that sweater? A coat maybe?”

“I have a wizard cape in the truck,” I offered weakly. “I wouldn’t have driven it tonight if I thought the problem was this serious, I didn’t expect it to break down.”

“They never do.” Cletus grunted and kicked my driver’s side door shut; he then pushed me gently against it. “Hold still,” he said, placing his banjo back on the ground. He took off his red and black flannel jacket and handed it to me.

I thought about pushing it away, but something about his deadpan expression told me not to argue.

“Thanks, Cletus.”

“You’re welcome, Miss James.”

I frowned at the formal salutation. Cletus Winston was the third oldest of the Winston kids and was a full six or seven years older than me. “You can call me Jessica, you know.”

“Nope. You’re my teacher. It wouldn’t be fit.” He grabbed his banjo case in one arm, me with the other, and marched us to his car.

“Wait.” I glanced over my shoulder. “I didn’t lock the truck.”

Cletus shrugged. “I wouldn’t fret too much about it. In order for someone to steal the beast, they’d have to install a new engine.”

***

After the seventeenth switchback I lost count. Cletus was taking me up the mountain to check on a friend’s house before he could take me home.

We fell into a surprisingly companionable silence as he focused on navigating his Geo Prizm. That was also surprising—Cletus’s car choice. Here was a guy who worked on cars for a living. He, Duane, and Beau found old classics and fixed them up to sell at a hefty premium. According to my daddy, the Winston Brothers Auto Shop was doing gangbusters business.

And Cletus was driving a 1990 Geo Prizm painted primer gray.

I tried to use the quiet time to ponder my own car situation, figure out a solution. Instead I spent ninety-nine percent of my brainpower slapping away thoughts of Duane Winston and his tongue. He really did have a lovely tongue. Unlike most of my previous kiss-encounters, Duane seemed to be a man that actually knew what he was doing with his tongue. He used it in the most delightful ways.

I was a little stunned and disoriented when we pulled into a gravel driveway at the very top of the mountain and Cletus put the car in neutral to park.

“We’re here,” he said, engaging the emergency brake, the sound punctuating his words. “You should come with me. I don’t know how long I’ll be, and I don’t like the idea of leaving you in the car by yourself.”

I shrugged and looked around at the inky darkness. I had no idea where we were and couldn’t find my way back if my life and the future of chocolate hung in the balance.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. Looks like there’s not another person out here for miles.”

“That may be,” he said, his eyes flickering over to mine before he twisted in his seat to pull out a large canvas bag from behind him, “but there are bears out here. This is a reliable car, but it won’t keep out bears.”

My eyes widened at the thought, and I quickly opened my door when he opened his. I followed him to a big house with a wraparound porch. All the lights were off.

“Whose house is this?” I asked, taking in the pretty white trim.

“Dr. Runous, the game warden from D.C. He’s on a trek with my brother Jethro at present in North Carolina. Should be back close to Christmas, I suspect.”

“And you’re looking after the place?”

Cletus gave a non-committal shrug and veered away from the porch into the darkness. “More like, I’m keeping an eye on the two people who are supposed to be looking after the place.”

I stumbled on something I couldn’t see, causing Cletus to halt and turn. He fit his hand in mine then used the contact to pass me a flashlight. “Here, I got my hands full with this stuff.” He let go of my hand and picked up the canvas bag he’d momentarily placed at his feet. “Maybe you could make yourself useful by shining the light ahead of us.”

I got the impression Cletus could see just fine without the flashlight, but was perhaps looking to give me an excuse to use it. I gave him a grateful smile and clicked it on, shining the light ahead, and was surprised when I saw a wooden boardwalk with a rail directly in front of us.

“Where does this go?”

“Down to the lake.” Cletus began walking again, his boots connecting with the wood of the boardwalk, making a distinct thudding sound. His movements were swift while mine were hesitant as I tried to see by the glow of the flashlight; therefore, he was soon twenty or more feet ahead of me. I realized we were approaching stairs that descended into a black nothing.

“Which lake?” I asked, hesitating again.

“Bandit Lake,” he threw over his shoulder just before falling out of sight.

I stopped, suddenly unable to move, and whispered to myself, “Bandit Lake…”

Beau and Duane were at Bandit Lake.

My heart rate skyrocketed and, despite the fact my legs were bare and I was in strappy high heels, I felt abruptly hot and anxious. I didn’t know what to do, so I stood stone still, my flashlight shining in the direction where Cletus had disappeared. I couldn’t go forward, so I lingered, feeling paralyzed and fretful for an indeterminate period of time.

I kept thinking, What if he’s there? But I didn’t know which he I meant.

Did I mean Beau?… Or did I mean Duane?

Forward likely led to the twins—one made me tongue-tied and the other…the other…

A rustling from behind caused me to jump, pulling me out of my musings and back to the present, a small squeak escaping my throat. I was still flushed, but I shivered, my heart now thundering in my chest. It might have been a bear. It might have been a possum. I tried to calm down. But then an owl hooted, and my squeak turned into a yelp.

Winston twins or not, anything was preferable to being stranded alone in the darkness on a moonless Halloween night in the middle of nowhere. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I ventured forward and down the steps, pausing briefly to take off my shoes when I realized they were keeping me from moving at maximum speed.

I sprinted forward, a feeling of dread in my chest. Every few feet I thought I heard the sound of steps behind me. This only made me move recklessly faster. A lump formed in my throat when I realized I should have reached Cletus already, but the stairs were never ending. The light in front of me seemed to waver. My hands were shaking. I clenched my jaw, telling myself to relax.

But then I heard the steps again, and this time they were unmistakable. Someone—or something—was behind me, and it was moving faster than I was. Panic and dread and every tortuous emotion clawed at my lungs, which were now on fire, and I had only one thought. I needed to get away.

I descended another two full flights, the sound at my back growing louder, and a scream started building in my throat. But just before I released it, a hand closed around my mouth, and an arm wrapped around my middle, easily lifting me off my feet.

I thrashed against the strong hold, dropping both my shoes and the flashlight in my struggle. Blind fear took the place of sense, and I bit one of the fingers over my mouth with gusty violence.

“Ow! Dammit that hurt!” I felt the hard chest behind me vibrate as the hand was removed from my mouth. I recognized that the voice of my captor belonged to either Duane or Beau Winston.

Therefore I froze.

“Who the hell are you, and what the hell are you doing here, and why the hell did you bite me?”

I swallowed, tearing my lip through my teeth. My back was still to his front, my feet were still not touching the ground.

Tentatively, I asked, “Duane?”

He stilled, and I felt some of the tension leave his arms. Slowly, carefully, gently he set me down and turned me to face him. I could just make out a shadow of his features in the starlight.

“Jessica?” he asked, his hands on my shoulders. “Jessica James?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s me.” I swallowed my last word, my knees feeling weak as adrenaline left my body. I was so relieved. Despite our lengthy history of mutual dislike and his trickery earlier in the evening, my chest flooded with warmth at the sight of him. I couldn’t ever remember being so happy to see the outline of another person in my whole life.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and concerned.

Overcome, I lunged forward and threw my arms around him, burying my face in his neck. I knew I was behaving like a lunatic, but I’d spent the whole night thinking about him. I needed him to hold me; even if he didn’t like me, I needed him.

He shushed me, his arms coming around my body, his hand petting my hair. “It’s all right, Jessica. I got you now.”

I had no idea how much time passed as we stood holding each other. I know I snuggled shamelessly closer, eliciting a short, velvety chuckle from him.

And then, just as I was beginning to relax and decide what to do next, he surprised me by saying, “Jessica, I’m not Duane, honey. I’m Beau.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, but before I could react, before I distinguished whether what I felt was joy or disappointment, the screams started.

CHAPTER 3

“Let love find you. Don’t go looking for it. The best way to attract a mate is to post an ad on Craigslist titled, “Have lube, will travel.”

– Jarod Kintz, Love quotes for the ages. Specifically ages 18-81.

 

~Duane~

I knew the exact moment I fell for Jessica James. I remember it clear as day.

Even though I hadn’t set eyes on her for years, time and distance hadn’t dulled the memory. The constancy of my regard for Jessica just made her presence now in Green Valley feel transitory, like she was slipping through my fingers.

I was sixteen. She was fourteen. I’d shoved her off a dock into the river behind our house. Instead of screaming or freaking out like a stupid girl, she’d grabbed my leg on her way down and pulled me under too, dragging me out to the middle.

I was in swim shorts, and she was in her Sunday school dress. While we were struggling under the water, she’d pulled my shorts down and off, then escaped. Seeing as how she’d been on the swim team since elementary school, she was the better swimmer, even in a Sunday school dress.

Jessica had climbed onto the bank. Her blonde hair had been wet, tangled around her face, down her back. Her white dress had clung to her body making every young curve visible, and she’d taken off. She’d always been real pretty, but so had lots of other girls. Spitting mad, I ran after her, not caring one lick that I was naked.

I’d caught her easily enough—I was the better runner, faster—and tackled her to the ground. I’d pinned her hands above her head and searched them. They were empty.

“Where are my shorts?” I’d demanded, furious.

Her body had shook beneath mine; she was laughing. She was laughing so hard she could hardly breathe, and I remember thinking she was beautiful.

Then she’d said, “I threw them in a tree.”

I’d watched her, again losing her breath to laughter, and I couldn’t stop my smile. “You threw them in a tree?” I asked, feeling a touch of wonder at her cleverness.

“Yeah,” she’d said, her smile wide and crooked, “you think being mean is enough. Being mean and being smart is better.”

That was the moment. That was when it happened.

Though I grew up seeing her nearly every day, I hadn’t noticed she was a girl—or the existence of any other girl—until I was nearly thirteen. By then it was too late. She disliked me. But she worshipped my brother. He didn’t see her, not really. Not like I did.

Sure, we’d argued since childhood. But that’s what kids do when they’re in a pack of wild children. I’d always liked her, but I fell hard the day she threw my swim trunks into a tree.

Presently, I was sitting two hundred feet from Bandit Lake, staring at the bonfire Beau and I had built hours before and feeling downright sorry for myself. I stood, shaking my head, and pushed the memory aside. I glanced at my cup. It was empty.

Usually I’d take the Road Runner out to clear my head; if I wasn’t going fast then I wasn’t really driving, and that car was built for speed. But I wasn’t going to chance mountain roads when I was two bourbon shots shy of drunk.

I was refilling my cup when Cletus suddenly appeared at the edge of the bonfire and gave me a fright. He was a floating head, his body invisible. I was the first to see him, and he scared the breath outta me. I inhaled sharply and jumped about three feet. He also made me spill the bourbon.

“Dammit, Cletus!” I closed my eyes, concentrated on slowing my pulse.

Then one of the girls screamed. Then another. Soon they were all screaming. I sighed because they were irritating.

Cattle, I thought. It was an uncharitable thought. My mother would have been disappointed. I felt a little pull under my lowermost left rib. Her death was still fresh for me, I couldn’t think about it without hurting someplace.

I opened my eyes, grinding my teeth, and set about the task of pacifying the screamers. “It’s Cletus, my brother. Tina, listen to me, Tina—it’s just Cletus.”

Tina’s screams continued until I covered her mouth with my hand; her brown eyes were wide and worried as she glanced from me to my older brother. When I was sure she wasn’t going to scream again, I took my palm away.

“Cletus?” she parroted, frowning. Her face was framed by a black and yellow wig; her cleavage was spilling out of the sexy bee costume she wore as she gathered gulping breaths.

“Yeah. It’s Cletus. Just Cletus.” I glanced at him. He wasn’t helping the situation by hovering just beyond the glow of the fire, his eyes eerily wide. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. He must’ve been wearing a black turtleneck because he really did look like a floating head.

The other guys had also stood, but were now shaking off the brief fright and moving forward to welcome my brother.

In all, there were about twenty-five people gathered, almost an equal amount of guys and girls. The bonfire had been Beau’s idea, and he’d promised to keep the party small. Twenty-five felt like a crowd. The mood I was in, I would have preferred five or six…or one.

Tina wrapped her arms around me, giggling into my chest. She was two vodka shots past drunk, and she was pissing me off. “Duane, baby. Hold me, I’m scared.”

I placed my arm around her shoulders, mostly to keep her from falling into the flames and ruining everyone’s good time, and walked her over to a blanket. My plan to remove her from my side proved difficult, because she seemed to have grown two more arms. Each time I removed one, another three took its place. Too late, I realized this was because she was climbing me with her legs.

Tina and I had been seeing each other on and off for going on five years. I’d called it quits once and for all four months ago. This was the first time I’d seen her since.

“Come on, Tina.” I pushed her away, cursing my brother for inviting her in the first place.

Looking back, five years with Tina was four years and eleven months too long. She’d never been my girl, but she liked to tell people she was. Sure, she was pretty enough, beautiful even. She had a free-spirited wildness that had been fun for about ten minutes. She also had the body of an exotic dancer—because she was one—and never lacked enthusiasm when we fucked.

But that’s all it had ever been—fucking.

And five years of fucking around was more than enough.

What Tina had in looks she lacked in sense. She was shrewd but ignorant. I couldn’t talk to her about anything, because she didn’t know about anything other than townie gossip, biker gossip, how to work a pole, and how to spread her legs.

Hell, I’d been ready to shoot that horse four years ago. But she’d become a bad habit. She was easy and soft and persistent. And that had been enough to keep me from turning her away.

Until last July.

Until I found out from Jackson James that his sister was moving back to town.

With a firm grip I finally succeeded in removing Tina’s claws, setting her on the blanket and away from me.

“Stay there,” I ordered, then walked around the circle of flames to greet my brother, throwing my paper cup in the fire. Tina climbing on me was incentive enough to sober up. I heard her call my name, but ignored it. Two shots shy of drunk was where I wanted to stop, especially since I was still frustrated from earlier events.

“It’s me, your brother Cletus,” he said unnecessarily—as he was prone to do—dropping a canvas bag to the ground at his feet.

I felt my lips tug to the side. He was wearing a black turtleneck and black pants.

“Hey, are you sticking around?”

“Nah, just dropping off the supplies Beau wanted.”

I studied him. He looked cold. “You want to warm up next to the fire before you go?

“Sure. Maybe for a bit.”

“Where’s your jacket?”

“I gave my jacket to a lady in need, she’ll be along shortly.”

I didn’t get a chance to question him further because he lifted his chin to the crowd. “Who are these people?”

“Mostly Beau’s friends.” I scanned several unfamiliar faces. “You know how he is, he has more friends than a tree has leaves. Some are from Merryville, a few came over from the Cades Cove side.”

I knew the moment his eyes found Tina because they turned mean. “What’s she doing here? You back with that?”

“No,” I said, feeling revulsion at the thought. “No way.”

He nodded, frowning in an atypical display of dislike. “Good, ’cause she’s a crazy bitch.”

I didn’t even have three seconds to register or feel surprise at Cletus’s words before Beau reappeared at the edge of the bonfire, drawing everyone’s attention to him and the girl he had tucked under his arm.

If Cletus’s statement had surprised me, then the sight of Jessica James pressed against my twin nearly knocked me flat on my ass.

Time slowed. I couldn’t breathe. My vision turned red. My throat and chest burned. I wanted to punch something…or someone.

“What the fuck…?” My thoughts escaped on a breath, and a deep, piercing pain twisted in my gut. Thankfully, only Cletus had heard my curse.

“Oh, yeah. Catastrophic Engine Failure.” Cletus lifted his chin toward Jessica as though Catastrophic Engine Failure was her name. “I’m taking Miss James home.”

I turned my glare to Cletus and snapped, “What do you mean you’re taking her home?”

His stare narrowed, and he openly studied me. I hated it when he did this. When Cletus put his mind to something, he could see everything. I averted my eyes but then instantly regretted it, because Jessica was looking straight at me. Images of her bare tits, her hot looks, bringing my hand to her flimsy panties played through my mind’s eye.

I swallowed so I wouldn’t groan, thankful I’d changed into jeans because, fucking hell, I was abruptly hard. Again my gut twisted, again I couldn’t breathe. I fought to distance myself from her gaze, but she reeled me in. Her mouth, her eyes, her body—my bait. Jessica was so much more than beautiful.

I hadn’t wanted things to escalate backstage at the community center; that wasn’t my intent or my goal. It was a kiss I was after, a single kiss. Tricking her, taking her backstage had been a spur-of-the-moment decision. For me, spur of the moment was well beyond my comfort zone. I liked to know what to expect. I liked the certainty that came with a well-laid plan.

But I’d wanted her mouth on mine. The ferocity of that want had made me a little crazy at the time. I wanted that memory. Because with Jessica, I’d always wanted so much more than fucking around.

When she’d thought I was Beau, her big brown eyes had been trusting, adoring. She’d never looked at me like that before. It was addictive. I wanted her to do it again. But my terrible prospects were dwindling. I should have waited and I was paying the price now. I’d been practicing my speech for months, waiting for the right time.

I’d blown my careful planning on one kiss, but I couldn’t help thinking it had been worth it.

Her skin had been soft, like a petal or silk. The memory of touching, tasting, and holding Jessica—and having her return the force of my attentions—was still fresh. As was the suffocating misery of her rejection.

I didn’t blame her for hating me, not at all. And now I reckoned it would be the only time she’d let anything akin to affection between us. In retrospect, I also reckoned she’d never have given Duane Winston the time of day.

And so I wasn’t sorry I’d tricked her.

I balled my hands into fists and forced my mind to blank. Even so, my eyes were drawn to her lips. They’d always been a little slanted, higher on one side than the other. This imperfection only added to her appeal. It made her look like she was thinking about a private joke, like she was ready to laugh.

My eyes lowered to her neck before I forced myself to stop. If I moved them any lower I would be thinking about her naked again. I didn’t need that kind of torture. So I brought my eyes back to hers.

She wasn’t looking at me with trust now. I couldn’t read her expression, but it appeared to be founded in unkind thoughts.

I wiped my own expression clean. I didn’t want her to see what she did to me. I was caught in her web. Worse, she didn’t even know she’d caught me. And even if she had known, she couldn't care less.

These thoughts tasted bitter, and I regretted throwing away my cup.

“Everyone, most of you already know her, but in case you don’t, this is Jessica James,” Beau announced with his usual charm. He glanced down at her, and she removed her eyes from mine to look at my brother. He smiled. She returned it, but hers looked shy. I had the distinct sensation I’d swallowed rocks.

“Jessica, this is everyone.”

People waved. A few stood up to greet her, including Tina. Vaguely I remembered they were somehow related, cousins maybe.

But I could only stare. I felt like I’d been planted, roots had grown out of my feet. I couldn’t look away. She was wearing a man’s jacket—I suspected Cletus’s by the look of it—but her long, toned legs were still bare to her thighs, and she had no shoes.

“I think we’ll stay for a while,” Cletus announced.

“Fine,” I said, realizing too late it sounded like a growl.

“Good.”

“Okay then.”

“Excellent,” he said, rubbing his hands together. He had the outward appearance of calm. Bored even. But I knew my brother well enough to know his tells. Rubbing his hands together meant he was near giddy. My suspicions were confirmed when he added, “In fact, we should all play a game.”

I scowled at him, still wanting to punch something, and he was closest.

“Hey, Beau.” Cletus ignored me, stepping forward. “Duane wants to play Truth or Dare.”

I set my jaw, grimacing. Several chimed in with their support for this terrible idea. Before long, someone had placed a cup in Jessica’s hand, the crowd was huddled together, and truths were being shared like STDs and unsolicited advice.

I withdrew to the edge of the group, sitting with my knees up and my elbows resting on them. I couldn’t help but watch Beau with Jessica. Each time she smiled at him was like rubbing salt on a wound or shoving a hot poker up my nose.

She was sitting close; his arm was around her. They were laughing together. I wanted to gouge my eyes out.

Just when I’d had enough and was thinking about leaving—taking that fast drive—Tina turned to me and said, “Duane baby, truth or dare?”

She cast me a seductive gaze, her blue eyes flirtatious as she sucked on her index finger. It did nothing for me.

I shrugged and said, “I’m not playing.”

“Come on. It was your idea.” Tina pouted, appealing to the crowd.

I felt myself grimace as I ground out, “Fine. Dare.”

Most people chose truth, but I’d always preferred dare.

I’d never had the good sense to be afraid of perilous situations like most people. I’d been bungee jumping, drag racing, sky diving—none of which had ever set my blood pumping beyond a mild degree. The more dangerous my circumstances, the more focused I became. I couldn’t think of doing a single thing that scared me, and I’d never embarrassed easily.

However, right this minute, talking about myself in front of Jessica felt downright terrifying.

Tina squealed and clapped. She reminded me of a piglet. “Yay! Okay, good. I was hoping you’d pick dare. I dare you to come over here and kiss me.”

Someone, probably an idiot, called out, “I’ll take that dare.”

I tried not to gag.

My attention moved to Jessica. I don’t know why I did it. Some part of me, likely the asshole part that enjoys feeling like shit, wanted to see her reaction—or non-reaction.

But to my surprise, she wasn’t gazing at Beau. She was looking at Tina, and she was looking at Tina like she wanted to bury her alive. The intensity of her glare, the ice behind it, caught me off guard. Suddenly, kissing Tina didn’t seem quite so revolting.

“All right,” I drawled.

Jessica’s eyes flickered to mine. Before she was able to hide it, I saw misery and shock. And, if I wasn’t mistaken, I also saw jealousy. Encouraged by the possibility that Jess might care a little about who I was kissing, I stood and picked my way through the crowd, then knelt in front of Tina.

I had a decision to make.

I could give her a quick peck and move the game forward.

Or, I could kiss Tina like I wanted to kiss Jess. I could use her. I could exploit the situation and potentially push Jess out of her comfort zone, hopefully provoking some response. Something to give me a reason to hope.

Decision made, I grabbed Tina by the neck, and I kissed the hell out of her.

Pretending Tina Patterson was Jessica James was like pretending tofu was steak. Despite the disparity in quality, texture, and taste, I soldiered on. I tapped into a hell of a lot of pent-up sexual frustration and had to restrain her hands when I felt them reach for my dick.

The crowd had made noises at first, egging me on. But then they grew quiet, and I heard a few whispered, Damn, that boy can kiss and I’m next and Remind me to use my next turn on Duane.

As soon as I finished, I lifted my eyes to Jess, and what I saw made my chest hurt. But this time, it was a good hurt.

Her glare was affixed to mine, her face was bright red. Her usual charming smirk was replaced with a deep frown. Beyond all that, she was giving me a hot look.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and stood, holding her gaze, and leaving Tina dazed on the blanket.

“It’s your turn, Duane,” Cletus’s voice broke the silence. He sounded cheerful…for Cletus. “Pick anyone you want, anyone at all.”

I nodded, my eyes never leaving Jessica’s, and gritted my teeth in preparation for what I was going to do next, my mind homing in on my target. It would require courage, the kind that risks public rejection.

“Jessica.” Her name on my lips sounded too loud.

I had an odd thought just then, that I should only ever whisper her name, and that she should always be close enough to hear it.

“Truth or dare?” I whispered.

Her gaze narrowed. Even beneath the thick coat she wore, I could see her chest rise and fall with her breath. To drive my point home, I allowed my eyes to flicker meaningfully to Beau. I hoped she’d interpret the movement as an implied threat to expose her feelings for him.

For the record, I would never do that. I would have to be a complete idiot to do that. If Beau had any idea, he’d be a jackass to let her go. Also, it would be a betrayal. I didn’t want to betray Jessica. I wanted to cherish her.

“Dare,” she said, like she was daring me and not the other way around.

I kept my relief from showing but did allow myself a smirk. “Okay. Dare it is.”

Again I picked my way through the crowd, and again I knelt down on the blanket; this time I was kneeling next to Jess, and she was adorably ruffled, unable to hide her anger.

“I dare you to come with me and go skinny-dipping in Bandit Lake for the next hour.”

Her brown eyes widened, rimmed with shock, and the crowd erupted in opinions. I heard someone say, I should have thought of that one, that’s a good one.

“Well?” I pushed, burying my enthusiasm under an expression of boredom. “What’s it going to be?”

Finally she sputtered, “An hour? That lake is near freezing; we’ll get hypothermia.”

“Okay, thirty minutes then.”

“Thirty minutes?”

“Fifteen. Final offer. Or else you have to choose truth.”

A wrinkle formed above her nose, and her eyes bounced between mine. Then, abruptly, she lifted her chin and said with venom, “Fine. I accept.”

She stood, unzipped her jacket, tossed it to Cletus, then jogged out of the circle of the bonfire’s light. I was too surprised to move at first, but then Beau punched me in the shoulder.

“What are you waiting for, dumbass? Go get her.”

I stared at my brother and he stared back, giving me an excited, encouraging smile. And I saw what I’d been blind to earlier. Beau wasn’t interested in Jessica, not because she wasn't beautiful or amazing. She was. She was gorgeous. She was smart and clever. She was breathtaking. She was also too good for either of us.

Beau wasn't interested in Jess because he knew how I felt. Of course he did. We were twins. He must’ve always known.

We exchanged a brotherly grin, and he punched me again. “Go on, get.”

I nodded once then stood, toeing my boots off and pulling both my sweater and shirt over my head. I left everything but my pants in a pile on the ground, grabbed a still-folded blanket, then sprinted into the woods after Jessica James.

I was always running after her, but this time I wasn't going to let her get away.