Don't Look Back(56)

to refuse.”

My cheeks burned, and my stomach warmed at his teasing.

“Um, that’s not what I’m asking, but good to know.” “Hmm. It wasn’t?” Carson’s lips spread into a half grin. “So

what were you asking?”

Images of us together occupied my mind for a couple more

seconds. “I was wondering if you would take me up to the cliff.” “I can do that.” Carson shifted the gears. His hand brushed

along my thigh, and I jerked at the contact. “But you probably

want to change first.”

The images were still there, in a lot more detail than before.

Us kissing. Touching. Talking.

Carson slid me a look. A knowing, smug grin split his lips.

“Sam.”

I blinked. “Change of clothes. Got it.”

He chuckled as he shifted gears again, grazing my leg with

the side of his hand. I doubted it was accidental. Then he threw

his arm over the back of my seat and turned his head toward me.

Because I was staring at him, the movement put us within kissing distance. My heart leaped into my throat. For a moment, I

thought he was going to say “screw the good-guy thing” and go

for it. A second later I realized he was backing up.

Awkward.

Carson met my eyes and winked. I let out the breath I was

holding, so aware of him that I felt as if I’d climb out of my skin

at any second. And he knew it. That smug half grin was on his

face the whole way to my house.

I snuck in and quickly changed into hiking-appropriate

clothing. The house seemed empty, but I didn’t stick around to

find out, doubtful that either of my parents would’ve been down

with me hanging out with Carson.

We stopped at his house, and he changed out of his dress

clothes. Returning in under two minutes, he’d thrown on a pair

of jeans and a light sweater.

The trip to the state forest was bumpy. The truck rocked,

and my phone slipped out of my fingers, falling to the floorboard.

Reaching down, my hand knocked into something soft, and I

grabbed it with my phone.

It was a hat—the black baseball cap I’d seen him wear

before.

An image of the man in the woods flashed before me. He’d been wearing a black cap, but that... that was only a memory or

a stress-induced hallucination. It couldn’t be...

“Your hat?” I said hoarsely.

Carson glanced at me, brows raised. “Yeah, had it for years.” I put it on the dashboard, quickly dismissing the irrational

fear. As we drove up the narrow dirt road, I glanced at him. “I

tried to talk to Del before Veronica turned on me.”

He gave me a sidelong glance. “Sam, I don’t want to be the

reason why you leave him.”

“You’re not,” I said honestly. “Things aren’t the same between

Del and me, and that has nothing to do with you.”

“Okay.” One of his fingers tapped on the steering wheel.

“Has he told you anything about your relationship?” I shook my head. “Other than our relationship was perfect? No.”

Carson let out a choked laugh. “He said that? Wow.” “What?” My interest was immediately piqued.

“Your relationship was far from perfect.” Turning onto a

gravelly, bumpy road put us right into direct sunlight. He reached

over, grabbed the baseball cap, and slid it on. “You guys were like

Cassie and Trey, fighting all the time.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.” He squinted, making a sharp right. “You guys didn’t

break up like Trey and Cassie did all the time, but you two fought

like crazy.”

I slumped back against the seat. Del had lied to me, and

I’d believed him—believed in this perfect, fairy-tale romance. Feeling stupid, I glared out the window. There were more than enough signs that things weren’t perfect. The looks the girls gave

me, the times Del had slipped up.

“You doing okay over there?” he asked.

My hands balled into fists. “I’m pissed! It’s bad enough that

I don’t remember anything, but lying to me? He took advantage

of me. I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Sam.”

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. Maybe I wasn’t

stupid, but I’d been incredibly naive. How many more people

were lying to me? And about what? About things that were far

more serious than the status of my relationship with Del, no

doubt. My chest ached at all the possibilities. What if I was a

murderous teenage brat and all the signs had been there? And no

one wanted to tell me?

We came to a stop at a dead end blocked off with a chain

and a weathered sign that marked the property private. Carson killed the engine and sat back, looking at me.

“There’s a trail that actually leads straight from your parents’

house to the cliff. I only know from helping Dad do stuff around

the summer home. You could’ve made it at night, though.” Looking around and seeing nothing but thick wilderness,