Golden Boys (Golden Boys, #1)(4)

But this feels like something. Or rather, it feels like we’re close to something.

“I love your family,” he says plainly. His gaze drops. “I don’t get big parties, I don’t have eighty-five cousins, and I love that you could so easily take it all for granted … but you don’t. It’s so clear how much you love them. Even—what’s his name?—that kid who’s kind of a dick.”

“Ryan?”

“Ryan!” he exclaims at the same time, then laughs. “I knew that, I swear.”

He looks up and hits the gas, and we’re suddenly flying down country roads again, the wind tearing up our hair.

“Anyway, they’re important to you, so they’re important to me. I can at least learn their names, even if those girls’ identical Italian names make it impossible.”

My phone buzzes, and I see Gabriel thumbs-up my most recent message. Helpful. And suddenly, my mind’s thinking of Sal and Gabriel again. I go quiet, thinking of their easy relationship, even though they don’t call it a relationship. “Friends with benefits!” they announced when we were, like, thirteen. Thirteen! Back then, the “benefits” were a few stolen kisses when me and Heath left the room, but god only knows what that means now.

How can they keep it so uncomplicated? How can they make it look so damn easy?

But I look to Heath, and my complicated feelings all attack me at the same time. I want that easy love, but …

“Try to give them a break,” Heath says after peeking at his phone and noticing my sudden quietness. “They’ll be on time. They know how important all this is to you.”

For one bright, hopeful second, I think he’s going to place his hand on my knee, but he grips the gear shift and kicks us into third gear.

Benefits or not, I don’t want to be just friends with Heath.





? PB Allergy ?

GABRIEL + HEATH + SAL





CHAPTER FOUR

HEATH

I tuck my phone under my thigh and drum nervously on the steering wheel.

Isabella is a Belle and likes books.

Elena has eyewear. Wait, no, Gabriella has guh-lasses; Elena looks eleven.

Arianna can sing, and Lucia is lucky to be the youngest because she doesn’t have to know all these freaking identical names.

I love his dumb family, but Reese’s older cousins need to stop having girls. Or, I guess they could just pick names that don’t consist primarily of Ls and As.

In better news, I did just put on a good show for him, revealing my secret mnemonic device, but I know as soon as we get to his house and that van of girls starts unloading, that’s all going right out the window.

I should have made flash cards for this.

From my parking spot, I have a good view of the whole shopping center. There’s not much here besides the grocery store, a pharmacy, and the local dentist. I have to admit that I don’t like the area much.

There’s no “charming downtown” like you see in rural towns on TV shows; there’s just this. A wannabe shopping center, plus a few gas stations for people passing through. The stores never change, and the buildings are in the same sad state of disrepair they’ve been in since I was a kid.

I wonder if that’s why I like the country roads so much. The crops grow and change, the trees turn from green to red to bare. But this shit just stays the same. Dad says we might have to move into the apartments down the street from here if we end up selling the farmhouse, and that thought alone makes me want to hurl.

Reese unloads a few bags of groceries into the back of the truck and hops into the passenger seat. I put my phone away completely, as he’d probably be pissed if he knew I was texting the guys without him. Once he’s buckled in, I ease out of the parking spot.

As we pull back onto Main Street, I glance back at the bags in the truck and notice a bag of ice peeking out of the top of one of them.

“Wait, isn’t Sal picking up ice? Should I tell him not to? That might save him some time.”

Reese shakes his head, and his cheeks burn red for a moment. “No, it’s just a backup plan. I don’t know how long they’ll be … occupied. That bag will last until he can get the rest here.”

“Maybe they’re on their way already?” I sigh, lightly. “They frustrate me sometimes too, but you’ve got to trust them a bit more, Reese. They know how important—”

“So, what about your family?” he says, cutting me off. He’s shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat, which he does from time to time, but I can’t really spot why. He seems furious with the other guys. Which, fair. But it’s almost like he’s more annoyed with them for hooking up, which, is just not a new thing. “The ones you’re living with in Daytona.”

I grip the steering wheel tighter as I punch the clutch and shift into fourth gear. Crops fly by my window, and it starts to sink in that this time next week I’ll be on a beach. Daytona Beach.

“Okay, sure. I don’t know them well myself, since my aunt Jeanie and Mom had this big falling-out when I was younger. But I’m staying with her and my cousin Diana. She’s around our age. You’ve probably seen her on my Instagram—she comments on about everything I post.”

“Is your family from Daytona?” he asks weakly, and I wonder if he feels weird that I haven’t shared all of this with him by now. I mean, he is my closest friend. It doesn’t compare, though. Reese has got, like, fifty cousins, and they have all these structured family gatherings and traditions, and I’ve always just had my parents.