Say You Still Love Me(32)

“Because of Avery?” I dare ask in a nonchalant tone, though I’m dying to get his take, now that she offered me hers.

He snorts as he studies the end of his cigarette. “Because of everything. But Avery and I had fun, yeah.”

That stir of jealousy sparks in my gut. I struggle to push it aside. “That’s what she said.”

“You two were talking about me?” There’s no mistaking the surprise in his voice.

“I didn’t bring it up. I swear.”

“What’d she say?”

“Exactly what you just did: that you two had a lot of fun.”

“Anything else?”

I open my mouth, intent on saying “Nothing,” but I decide I’d rather go with the truth. “That you don’t let people get too close.” I watch him carefully for his reaction.

He seems to consider that. “I guess she’s right, I don’t. Not her, anyway. I knew right away that it wasn’t gonna last past the summer, so I made sure to keep it easy. You know, so no one got hurt.” He pauses. “It doesn’t bother me at all if she ends up with someone else this year. I haven’t thought much about her, to be honest.”

What about this? Me? Has he already dismissed me as this year’s summer fling? And will I be okay with that? I want to ask, but I bite my tongue.

His crooked smile tells me he somehow knows what I’m thinking anyway.

“This summer will be even better,” I dare say.

“Oh yeah?” He squints against the sun as he studies my face. “And why’s that?”

“Because I’m here.”

He chuckles. “Now who’s being cocky?” Taking one last haul off his cigarette, he butts it out on the stone and then sits up. He reaches for his shoes, a pair of suede Adidas that are literally falling apart—the seam on one toe broken, the ends of the laces frayed, the dark gray material severely stained.

“Can’t let go of them, huh?” I tease.

“They’re comfortable,” he murmurs, but I note how his cheeks flush.

Did I just embarrass the guy I’m madly crushing on? Way to go, Piper.

I quickly backpedal. “I have a pair of tennis shoes like that. They’re my lucky ones. I haven’t lost a tennis match in them, like, ever.”

His gaze is still on his grayed laces, but I see the corners of his mouth pull, in a tiny smile. A smile that says he knows I’m lying, punctuated by his quick glance at my pristine teal Nikes, bought just last week, along with two more pairs to choose from throughout the summer.

“We should probably get back.” He yanks his T-shirt over his head.

As anxious as I am about getting caught shirking responsibility, I’m not ready to leave. “Not so fast.” I reach for the brown paper bag and toss it to him.

He cringes. “I knew you had these.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did. I saw you come out of the canteen with them.”

I frown. “Where were you?”

“Around . . .” He tips his head to gaze at me, his eyes twinkling playfully. “You’re really gonna make me do this?”

“A bet’s a bet.”

With a groan, he dumps the packs out on his lap, holding up the cherry flavor with a scowl.

“They only had nine razz apples.”

He tosses it onto my lap. “I’m allergic to cherry.”

“Really?” I frown. “But I doubt there’s actual cherry in it.”

“You willing to find out up here?” He gestures at our secluded spot, high up on the rock. “Because I’m anaphylactic.”

“Oh. No. Definitely not.” I shake my head for emphasis. “Let’s prorate it, though. You’ve gotta do nine in . . . one minute, forty-eight seconds.”

“You’re taking this to a whole new level.” Chuckling, he tears open the tops of the pouches, holding them upright between his thighs in a line. Setting the timer on his watch, he hands it to me, our fingers sliding across each other in the process, sending my blood racing through my veins.

I clear my throat to help calm myself. “Ready?”

“No.”

“And . . . Go!” I press the tiny red button and the numbers begin churning on the screen.

With a curse, he grabs the first open pack and, tipping his head back, he dumps the powder into his mouth. His face twists horribly against the tartness. “Oh, God . . . I forgot . . . how sour these are!” he manages between swallows and cringes.

I howl with laughter. “One down, eight to go!”

He fires a glare my way, tosses the empty pack aside, and collects another one. “Just you wait—I’m gonna get you back for this.”

I’m in tears by the time he finishes the last pack, just as the beep of his watch sounds. “I can’t believe you actually did it!”

He rubs at his bottom lip with his thumb, wiping away at some residual powder. “I thought I was going to puke for a minute. My mouth hurts.” He stretches his tongue out and waggles it around, showing off his green-tinged candy-coated taste buds, making me laugh harder. “Shut up and eat yours,” he mutters through a smile, as he begins collecting the tossed packs.

“I haven’t had one of these in forever.” I wet the candy stick in my mouth before dipping it into the powder, and then pop it back into my mouth. My cheeks pucker, the cherry tart on my tongue.