She’s only sixteen, and the things they say about her... but I don’t believe them, not for a second. Brit doesn’t even seem to care. She just strides around town with her tough-girl outfits and that dark, piercing stare, like nothing can touch her.
She doesn’t realize how beautiful she is.
Brit looks up from the counter, and I leap back, embarrassed, but she doesn’t see me out here in the fading dusk light. She says something to the person at the back of the diner, and then pulls of her apron, grabbing a scuffed satchel and heading for the front door.
I quickly take a few steps up the street, and pull out my phone, like I’m looking at a message.
The door rings, and Brit steps out onto the street.
“Hey Brit!” A voice calls, and she turns. It’s a couple of local guys, toting six-packs and snacks. “You coming to the party?”
Brit shrugs. “Maybe.”
“You gotta,” the other guy urges. “Last blowout of the year. It’ll be crazy. Down at the beach, past the breakers.”
“Cool,” Brit nods. “I’ll swing by later.”
She turns back and sees me watching. Brit looks startled, and I quickly drag my gaze away and start walking, back towards my truck. I feel like an idiot, but at the same time, I sense the burn of her gaze still echoing through me, her dark eyes full of secrets.
I’ve wanted her all summer long.
She’s always been here, around town, but somehow, this year, everything changed. I took one look at that glaring, wounded stare, and suddenly, she was the only thing I could see. Other girls just faded into the background. I didn’t want them. I didn’t care about anyone but her. I found myself looking for her in every crowd, suggesting Sunday breakfast at the diner just to catch a glimpse of her, imagining what it would be like to touch that soft dark hair, taste those perfect pink lips...
Maybe it would be different if I thought I didn’t stand a chance, but now I know, this weird connection between us runs both ways. Last week, I was working in the harbor cleaning up our boat when I caught her watching me from the shore. I didn’t let her know I saw her, I acted like nothing had changed, but I felt her eyes roving over my body; caught the look of desire on her face.
It took my breath away.
Any other girl, I would have strolled right on over and asked her out. Taken her for a stroll on the beach, never thought twice about kissing her. Hell, if I’m honest, I would have sealed the deal too, shown her everything I already know about making a woman moan with pleasure—and let her teach me so much more.
But Brit isn’t any other girl. She’s like a blazing neon sign on a dark night: ‘Warning: Danger. Keep out.’ Even now, heading back to the house, I see her face dancing in my memory, and the beautiful burn of those dark eyes, calling to me.
I shake it off. Even if I wanted to, summer is as good as over. Come tomorrow, I’ll be miles away, and Brit will be nothing but a memory—if she was ever anything more.
Back at the house, the party is still underway. I suffer through drinks, and dinner, and more mindless small-talk that even another secret vodka can’t improve, all the while deflecting questions about college, pretending like when it comes to my future, I have any say at all.
“And are you seeing anyone special?” One of the nosy blondes asks. I’ve been stuck seated next to her all through dinner, watching her push a single green bean around her plate.
“Not right now,” I force a polite smile.
“You know, my niece Kiki is starting at Harvard in the fall, I should give you her number, she’s just a doll!”
“Then keep her away from Hunter,” Jace interrupts, coming to my rescue with a teasing grin. “He’ll only break her heart.”
“Oh, you boys!” The woman laughs, but writes me out the number all the same. I crumple it into my pocket, not interested in Kiki, or Jennifer, or any of the other numbers my parents’ friends have pressed into