Free Dangerous Lies by Becca Fitzpatrick Page B

above.”
    “First you’ve got to ditch the cowboy hat.”
    He flashed a crooked smile. “At least I don’t smell like manure.”
    “Oh!” I threw my head back, laughing. “I can’t believe you went there! Lower than low. That’s it—I declare full-out war.” I climbed across the seat and ran a soiled finger down his cheek. “A taste of what’s to come. You’re out of your league. Step up to the majors,” I added, fluttering my fingers toward myself in a beckoning manner.
    “All talk and no walk.”
    “Dream on.”
    “Game on.”
    We looked at each other and we both laughed.
    When Chet pulled into Carmina’s drive fifteen minutes later, he said, “I’ll call you about Friday’s game. Best number to reach you?”
    “Just call Carmina and ask for me. I’m working on getting my own phone.”
    “When do I get to hear about the new job?”
    I’d been so wrapped up in locating Carmina’s bike, I’d completely forgotten to give him further details. “I’m the Sundown Diner’s newest carhop. Tips will probably suck, but at least they’ve got AC.”
    Chet grinned. “Watch out for the drunk cowboys.”
    “Yeah, yeah, nothing I can’t handle.” I knew he was just trying to scare me. “First shift’s tonight. Wish me luck.”
    “Don’t need to.” His blue eyes zeroed right in on mine, and unexpectedly, I felt strangely warm and a little breathless. “They’re gonna love you. We should celebrate after Friday’s game. Catch a bite, or see a movie. Up to you.”
    I broke away from Chet’s gaze and collected myself. I’d crossed a line just now, and I didn’t like how it made me feel. Chet was my friend, but I was devoted to Reed. And you shouldn’t need the reminder, I chided myself.
    I said, “Carmina has been stricter than usual after I took the Mustang Saturday night. I’ll have to run it by her.” I didn’t care what Carmina thought, and I definitely wasn’t running my plans past her; I threw in the comment to cover my bases. I didn’t want to commit to giving my entire Friday night to Chet if better plans sprang up later. Assuming I met some people at the softball game, I might get a few more invitations. What I really wanted—what I really missed about home—was a weekend party. Lots of people, loud music, a good time.
    Most of all, I didn’t think it was wise to spend too much time alone with Chet. I knew the perils of a long-distance relationship. The mice will play when the cat’s away. I wasn’t going to be one of those girls. Reed and I had been through too much to throw it away on a summer fling.
    “Carmina’s used to having her way,” Chet said. “But that house of hers is big enough for two opinions. She’ll come around; it just might take time. You doing okay with her?”
    “Yeah, we’re peachy. So long as only one of us is in the house at a time.”
    “Must be hard, moving from one place to the next, never knowing who you’re gonna land with.”
    “Hmm,” I mused noncommittally.
    “How long were you in your last foster home?”
    “Long enough,” I said vaguely. I hadn’t expected to feel a moral twinge over lying to Chet. The U.S. attorney’s office had given me a cover story for my safety, got it. But Chet and I were on good terms. He was the closest thing I had to a friend. It felt cheap to exploit that, even if I was only here for the summer. “Listen, I should get going. Catch a quick nap before my shift tonight. Well, that and plan my revenge.”
    “I’ll sleep with one eye open.”
    My smile slipped. Chet had meant the words to be funny, but as my thoughts drifted to Danny Balando, who was out there searching for me, I realized Chet’s joke was spot on for me, too.
    Dead on.

AT FOUR THIRTY, I CLOCKED in my time card. Clearly the Sundown was too cheap to upgrade to a computerized system. Dixie Jo put Inny, another carhop, in charge of giving me a tour of the kitchen and what I presumed was the diner’s version of basic training.
    I