Maybe This Time(48)

A muscle jumped in Andrew’s cheek. “I can handle my father.”

“It didn’t look like it.”

He faced me full-on. “You don’t know everything, Sophie, even when you act like you do,” he said.

“Ditto,” I shot back.

Then just like his dad, Andrew stormed off.

“Seriously?” I turned toward Micah, confused. “They’re both jerks.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Soph, come on. You did kind of overstep some boundaries there.”

“You heard his dad. He was treating him like dirt.”

“His dad was angry because he couldn’t get ahold of Andrew. You know how parents are.”

“He was degrading him like he always does. Like he does everyone.”

Micah sighed. “Well, you better go find Andrew and say you’re sorry.”

“You want me to apologize? I did nothing wrong.”

“Soph, just swallow your pride and apologize so we can leave?”

I whirled around. Why was everyone being so annoying today? And why was I having to search everyone out? I just wanted to go to a flippin’ funeral in peace. I had a mind to walk straight to the flower van and drive away. But I didn’t. Instead I circled Mrs. Lawson’s house angrily. Andrew wasn’t inside. I pushed through the back door, walked the porch, then the yard, and finally found him leaning against a shed.

“I’m sorry,” I spit out.

Andrew avoided my gaze. “Do you know what those words mean? Because you used them all wrong.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Can we just go?”

“Go ahead. I didn’t ask you to wait for me.”

“We drove here together.”

He was silent, his head down.

So stubborn.

“Am I that bad?” I asked, stepping closer to him. “I’m the only person in your life who’s ever told you that your dad is a jerk? I find that really hard to believe.”

He finally looked up at me. “It is none of your business. That’s the point.”

“Oh, but who Kyle kisses and how that relates to me is your business?”

“That’s not even close to the same thing.”

I stepped closer again and jabbed his chest with my finger. “It’s exactly the same thing. And if someone—even your dad—is talking to you like that when you don’t deserve it, then I’m going to call them out on it.”

Andrew grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from his chest. “And if you’re just going to pretend you’re perfectly okay when it’s obvious you’re not, then I’m going to call you out on it.”

“Fine!”

“Fine,” he said.

My eyes shot down to his hand holding my wrist then back up to his face. His blue eyes were intense, his lips slightly parted from the sharp breaths he was taking. And suddenly my body seemed to be on autopilot. I leaned forward and pressed an angry kiss to his lips.

He froze, and then so did I, our lips pressed together. Then all at once his free hand moved to the back of my neck. His hand still gripping my wrist pulled me closer, bringing my hand around his back. He tilted his head, deepening our kiss. I took a quick breath in through my nose as a jolt of electricity surged through my body. I wrapped my arms around him, my body against his. He rotated 180 degrees and pressed me against the shed, his mouth still on mine. This wasn’t allowed to feel so good. No. This couldn’t feel so good.

I wedged my hands between our bodies and shoved him away. He dropped his arms to his sides and stared at me for a moment. Then he twisted until his back was against the shed next to me. I tried to even out my breaths and I could hear him doing the same.

“Why did you do that?” I asked.

“You did it,” he said, and he was right. “You did it because you felt sorry for me.”

My brows shot down. “Don’t tell me why I did something.”

“Even if it’s true?”

“Especially if it’s true.”

He chuckled a little.

“Maybe you felt sorry for me,” I said.

“I didn’t.”

“Good.”

“Good,” he repeated.

“We should go,” I said, not moving.

“We should definitely go,” he said, not moving.

“Are you worried?” I asked.

“About you attacking me again? Yes, very.”

I smiled and a slight breeze picked up, providing some much-needed relief from the heat. The leaves in the tree across the yard rustled.

“About going home,” I said.

“See, I knew you did it because you felt sorry for me.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I did it because everybody mourns differently.”

He laughed. “It’s not a bad way to mourn.”

“I’m beginning to see the merits,” I said, wishing that I wasn’t suddenly blushing.

“So you admit that I’m a good kisser?”

He was an amazing kisser. “I will never admit that,” I said.

He turned, one shoulder and the side of his head pressed against the shed. “My dad’s all I have. At the end of the day, it’s just me and him. I can’t afford to lose that.”