Dream On(58)

Perry chuckles. “Too bad. That would have been a sight.”

I take two steps before my curiosity gets the better of me and I turn. “Pear Tree?” I ask.

“Oh, that,” he grunts. “I started a gardening club in high school, and ‘Pear Tree’ sort of stuck. Mikey’s the only one who still calls me that though.”

I shake my head. “Some people never leave high school, even after they graduate.”

“Isn’t that the truth. Any word from Devin?”

My stomach flips. I check my phone again. “Not yet. I told him to meet me by our stuff.”

“Good call.”

We continue on through the crush of bodies. A minute later, I spot the place where we set up camp. “There it is.” I squint through the darkness, but I can’t tell if anyone’s still there.

I catch sight of an indistinguishable mass stretched out on our blanket, no more than a dim shadow writhing in the dark. I frown. What the…? Perry keeps walking and I throw out my arm to stop him. “Wait,” I whisper, heartbeat accelerating.

I click on my cell. Pointing the screen toward the ground, I edge forward slowly. Lifting the phone by degrees, I focus the screen’s dim light on the blanket… and immediately clutch my phone to my chest. I double-time back to Perry.

“Let’s go.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just, come on.” Ten steps away I can’t hold it in anymore. I burst out laughing. “It’s Brie and Marcus. They’re having a moment.”

Perry raises his eyebrows in question.

“By ‘moment,’ I mean they’re making out like sex-starved teenagers.”

“I didn’t know they were together.”

“They’re not. Or maybe they are now?” Based on our conversation earlier, it didn’t sound like Brie was ready to end her moratorium on dating. Then again, maybe Marcus is more persuasive than I give him credit for. “It’s complicated.”

A woman stumbles down the hill nearby and bumps into me when she passes, not noticing that she nearly knocks me off my balance. Perry steadies me with a hand at my waist, and the sensation delves straight to my core.

What the hell is happening to me?

I pluck at the hem of my romper. “Is it always this crowded?”

“I assume so. Dad doesn’t do ‘small.’ What’s the point of having a party if you don’t invite everyone you know?”

“Why didn’t you bring anyone to the party? Devin invited his friends.”

He shrugs. “There was no one to invite. Most of my friends have moved away, and the ones who are left already had plans with their partners and families.”

“Bummer. Why not invite someone new? Maybe some cute customer from the flower shop?” My tone is teasing, but I can’t stop my thighs from clenching.

Perry’s hand closes around my wrist. His touch is feather-light, but I freeze like I’ve been zapped with fifty thousand volts. “Because she’s already here.” His voice is low, but his words echo through my head like a shout down a hall. We’re so close I can sense every rise and fall of his chest, feel every cool, spearmint breath as it fans across my cheek. My stomach tightens like a vise.

“Perry, I—”

“Cass, there you are!” Devin shouts, ambling toward us through the dark as he holds his cell phone aloft like a makeshift torch. A green glowstick dangles around his neck from an invisible cord, illuminating the white box he’s clutching against his chest.

Perry’s fingers slip from my wrist, and my skin tingles where he touched me.

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” says Devin.

“Same here. Sorry I took so long. I tried to find a bathroom, but the facility was locked. Then I ran into Perry.”

Devin stops short. “I thought you left,” he says to Perry.

“I decided to stick around. Cass talked me into staying for the fireworks.”

“She can be persuasive, can’t she?” He grins at me. “Hey, Per, I’m sorry about Dad. I mentioned one time that I was helping you with taxes, and he must have put two and two together.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know you have my back when it counts.” With a tense smile, Perry clasps Devin’s shoulder. His eyes drift down. “What’s in the box?”

“Something for Cass.” He turns to me. “To say sorry again for earlier.” Handing his phone to Perry, he lifts the box’s lid. Inside is a sizable slice of strawberry cheesecake—Devin must have snagged the last piece from the food table, box and all. “Your deepest desire if I recall,” he murmurs.

“You remembered.”

“How could I forget?”

My heart flutters even as a tingling sensation skitters up my spine. A vague, half-forgotten memory rises to the surface of my consciousness, like the ghost of a dream. A white gleaming plate. A slice of decadent cheesecake, sweet sauce oozing down its side, sliced strawberries fanning out across the top. Devin, leaning across a narrow table, smiling at me as though I’m the most beautiful woman in the world.

I jolt. This is the first memory flashback I’ve experienced in weeks. Perhaps the real memories I’m making with Devin are crowding out the fake ones.