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  “Again?” he asks me in a low grumble. I leave the question unanswered, putting one hand firmly on the back of his neck, the other over his heart, feeling that hard chest and rapid beat under my palm, and pull him hard against my lips. He groans and steps in so his body is flush against mine as I open to allow him free reign of my mouth. Our tongues tangle together, knowing each other just as Evan and I do.

  My mind is racing as quickly as my pulse, but instinct takes over as my hands move all over him. His solid arms, firm shoulders, strong back…tight ass. I can’t feel enough of him in this moment and lose myself to the desire consuming me. His sweet murmurs along my neck, jaw, in my ear spur me on, almost to the point of no return, until loud squeals from the party rip through our haze.

  All at once, I remember where we are and that anyone could walk up on us. It also shames me that I was careless enough to leave Kaitlyn alone this whole time while I fondle my best friend in a field, so I regretfully pull back. Evan’s eyes take a while to slowly open and find mine, but in them I see everything I need to, overpowering any inkling I might have had about regret or embarrassment. In those blue pools, there’s no second guessing—these are not the eyes of my “friend.” I know my Evan, and he liked it. I really liked it, beyond my wildest dreams that I never had.

  “Come on,” I say almost painfully, “we have to get back and check on Kaitlyn.”

  His shoulders slump and he rolls his eyes, but finally grabs my hand and interlaces our fingers. We’ve held hands a million times, but never like this. It feels good, I feel secure, but most of all—I start to believe what people have said here and there in recent years…I feel beautiful. Evan tugs on my hand slightly, slowing me up some, and turns me to him. “Laney,” he barely whispers, “can you do one thing for me?”

  He could say climb Mt. Everest right now and I’d agree. The look on his face is so sexy and now that I know how that mouth feels…wait, what was the question?

  “Yessss?” Am I flirting?

  “Can we pretend you’re really mine, just mine, Evan Mitchell Allen’s, at least for tonight?”

  I think of the gentle hand on my cheek, the soft then rougher kiss, the protection from Matt, the #14 on his back every week, the Disney movie marathons, and I say, without a doubt in my mind, “With pleasure.”

  The smile that spreads across his face and the fist pump I doubt he realizes he’s just thrown assure me I should feel as good about my answer as I do. At least for tonight… Is that all I want? All he wants? I refuse to overanalyze right now; this is new, overwhelming, and exhilarating…I’m just gonna ride this wave without worrying; there’s a first time for everything.

  I’m not sure which of us sets the pace for the walk back, but neither speeds it up. Once back, still hand in hand, I immediately notice that Kaitlyn is slow dancing with Matt, so she’s definitely way past drunk, or maybe he used a better line on her. Whatever. As long as I can see his hands, I’ll let her enjoy herself. Evan nudges me, so I look up.

  “Dance with me?” Evan asks with an eyebrow raised and sexy plea in his eyes.

  It’s “Big Green Tractor” by Jason Aldean in the background; we both love this song. I nod.

  Evan sings the song softly in my ear as we dance. He has no idea what a good singer he is, and apparently my body just received the memo tonight as well. All the times we’ve cruised around together, singing at the top of our lungs, or played iPods while we fished…it did not have this effect on me. Why oh why could this not be the longest song ever written???

  When the song ends, Evan guides us to settle in on staggered bales. Evan sits behind me and I lean back between his legs. He’s pressed against my back and his hands rest on my shoulders, hanging over slightly. His pinky moves up and down the outside of my arm, lightly, but I feel it.

  Oh, do I feel it.

  Turning my head to look back at him, I give him a smile. His own reflects back to me as much happiness as I’m feeling. It always feels good being around Evan, but something has shifted and now it feels even better. Consumed by these new stirrings and the cover of the night sky, I’m emboldened. I place my hand on his thigh and pull his leg in until it’s tight against me, hearing his sharp intake of breath. His body stiffens for a moment and then relaxes with his exhale.

  “How long are we staying?” I ask quietly.

  “We can leave whenever you’re ready. I’m only here because you are.” He tucks my hair behind one ear as he says it and I’ve never felt more feminine in my life.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say as I get up to go wrangle Kaitlyn home.

  I secure a ride for Matt, who again apologizes for his earlier behavior, probably because he and Kaitlyn think it’d be a great idea for her to ride with them; which I respond to with a laughing “hell no.”

  Holding Kaitlyn up as we wait for Evan to bring the truck proves to be a challenge and I wonder how I’ll get her past my dad. Her rancid breath is really testing the duties of friendship right now…and if she pukes in Evan’s truck, Lord help her.

  “Laney, did you have fun?!” Kaitlyn shrieks from the backseat when we’re finally loaded.

  “I actually had one of the best nights of my life. Thanks for making me go,” I tell her, casting a sidelong glance at Evan. So worth it; the smile on his face as he reaches for my hand is one I will never forget.

  “Me too, beautiful. Me too.”

  HIT OR MISS

  This is a huge risk, but it’s one I’m willing to take. Ever since I finally kissed Laney Jo Walker, fantasy and reality collided, and my two worlds will never be separate again. I’ve dreamed of kissing her since I was ten years old. I knew I’d never be the same when and if it ever happened. I’m not.

  Girls seem to throw themselves at you when you play ball, and temptation has gotten the better of me a time or two, but it’s never taken more than a couple days for the comparisons to mount up and my total focus to return to her, even if she’s oblivious to how I feel. She’s finally coming around and I have to push forward and never let her backtrack.

  Now that I know those lips really are as sweet as honey and those hands are small but seeking, I can think of nothing else. And that little noise she makes in her throat when I touch her…my new weakness.

  So here I am, sitting at the baseball field, about to ask Laney to prom. She’s blown off every dance in history, but I can’t think of any better way to end our senior year, our long journey from youth to adult that we made together, than with her in my arms. I’ve thought long and hard about how to ask her; this plan speaks her language. Her sweet little voice interrupts my thoughts.

  “Evan, not to sound ungrateful, but you picked me up from the softball field to surprise me with the baseball field?”

  She’s so ornery.

  “Lovebug, don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?”

  She says nothing and cocks an eyebrow.

  “Prom tickets went on sale today, and I know you hate that kind of thing, but I’d be the luckiest man alive to take you. So…I have a proposition for ya.”

  Still nothing. I see the wheels turning, though. I was counting on that.

  “Now, I know you’d never back down from a bet with me,” I say, recalling that a lost bet resulted in her eating a worm when we were eleven, “and I also know you’d never welch on one, so let’s leave it up to fate. If I can strike you out, you go to prom with me. You hit off me, I’ll drop it.”

  Still nothing.

  And still…

  “Okay, I’m done, say something.”

  “You’re on.”

  Almost all in one motion, she jumps out, grabs her bag, tightens her ponytail, and then heads to the field like a little wildcat. Adorable.

  “Okay.” She smirks and taps her bat against the plate, popping out her butt further than usual in an attempt to distract me. “Show me whatcha got.”

  I love when Laney’s like this, self-confident and playful, but I’m still gonna strike her ass out. Knowingly, I put the first p
itch on the outside of the plate and she reaches, cutting through air; she can’t lay off those. She mumbles what I think is “bastard” and I chuckle, reaching down for another ball.

  Her bat never leaves her shoulder with the next pitch and I ask her, arms out to my sides, “You gonna swing or stand there and look pretty?”

  “That was low. Ball one.”

  “Ha!” I raise my brows at her. “You think I’m gonna let you call? That was perfect and you know it. Swing the bat, picky pants.”

  A full count, thanks to her continued one-sided umping, and a clenched jaw later, I see my dreams dwindling before my very eyes. Her dad taught me how to pitch and her how to bat…probably should have thought that one out a little better. As the last pitch leaves my hand, sweat that I refused to wipe now dripping from my hairline, I know she’s got it. I’ve been in tune to her body language for years, and I’ve watched her go yard as many times as strike out…and as the ball sails by me and out of the park, there’s actual pain in my chest.

  I start to load everything up as Laney rounds the bases. Oh yeah, there’s no way she wouldn’t run ‘em. I can’t even talk as I turn out the field lights and follow her to my truck.

  She turns and gives me a grin over her shoulder. “No pouting.”

  The drive home is dead silent and I ache. None too soon, we’re there. Just as I begin to drum up the voice to say goodnight, she turns in her open door and says, in the voice of an angel, “Go with a tie the color of your eyes; it’s my favorite.”

  Ornery.

  BEDFELLOWS

  The last few weeks have flown by; softball season ended and I survived dress shopping with Kaitlyn. Things are wonderful with Evan and me. We’ve always spent every lunch and tons of time together, but lately the hordes of girls at his locker have died down and he walks me to every class, now with his hand on my back or tangled in mine.

  Apparently today is another new chapter, because as I’m getting my books out of my locker at the end of the day, I feel his arms slip around my waist. His breath tickles my neck as he leans. “My girl ready for the weekend?”

  We appear to do PDAs now and surprisingly, I’m just fine with that, so I turn in his arms, sliding mine around his neck. “Ready when you are.”

  I blush at my own boldness, but I just can’t resist. Evan makes me feel safe to be whoever I want, anytime, and that person is evolving. That inner woman is starting to think that sometimes, if you feel like kissing, you should pucker up like it’s your last. Every once in a while, getting whisked away in a moment feels nice; real nice.

  “I missed you all day,” he growls and I give him a little kiss on the end of his nose.

  My fingers slip between his as I pull him to the parking lot; I am so ready to be home.

  “I can run by and grab a movie; meetcha at home?” he offers.

  “We could go to a movie if you want.” Was that just my voice? I hate going to the movies. No one ever laughs or shuts up at the right time, and I’m confident the theater doubles as an underground morgue since I can always see my breath, even if Kaitlyn and Evan swear the temp is fine.

  “I’d really like you all to myself tonight. Please?”

  Oh Lord, Evan, save the hurt puppy face, you and I both know that I hate the movies. I’m totally down for the “let’s reward Laney for making a sacrifice” plan, though, so I wink to let him know he’s “won.”

  “Text me in a bit, and get something we’ll both like,” I say with an air kiss as I drive away happily.

  A bit, as it turns out, is twenty-five minutes. I’ve just changed into comfy clothes, gray yoga pants and white sports tank, when my phone dings.

  Evan: Still ready when I am?

  Laney: Always. My house or yours tonight?

  No text back. Knock on door.

  “I choose here.” He beams as I open the door. Decked out in a backwards ball cap, tight blue t-shirt, and gray gym shorts, he is the sexiest, sportiest thing ever. That cocky smile he’s wearing as he taps the end of my nose does crazy things to my insides.

  “Okay, silly boy, go make sure the movie room has blankets and pillows. I’ll bring up popcorn and drinks.”

  Half an hour later, I’m all but one eye under the covers, curled into his body with my face buried into his chest. I’m pretty sure I’m drawing blood from his arm but I can’t help it. Who dreams up this scary crap? Better yet, why does the girl always ignore the creepy old townsman who tells her people died in her new house? Why does she insist on staying home alone and opening every damn door she can find?

  I stay huddled under the covers, Evan holding me tightly with one arm around my back and the other on my leg, in a little anti-zombie haven…good stuff. He wouldn’t have to do this if he ever picked a comedy or drama, but I’m starting to understand his cinematic ulterior motives. I really have been walking around clueless for years, cause that’s how long he’s been choosing scary movies.

  We haven’t really talked about how we went from what we were to what we are now. Much like everything else with us, it just was.

  When we start the second movie, sans blood, guts, and the undead, I decide to stretch out, draped all over the couch. Evan makes for the floor to lean back, but I reach down and take his hand. I silently guide him to lie behind me and share the covers. His arm slinks around my waist and I feel him breathing against the back of my neck. In our years of constant companionship, I’ve lain on a couch with Evan many times before, but not like this.

  The next thing I know, I’m being woken up to the light and my dad telling Evan his parents probably want him home.

  “Sorry, Mr. Walker, we fell asleep watching the movie.” His sleepy voice is yummy.

  “I know, bud, I just don’t want your parents to worry. Laney, go get in your bed, kiddo.”

  “Yeah, Dad, let me just walk him out.”

  At the door, Evan leans in to give me a hug and sweet kiss on my cheek as we say our goodnight. There’s no way he could have missed my shiver.

  Just as my eyes are closing, I get a text.

  Evan: I had a great time tonight, another best

  Laney: Really? We’ve done movie night for years Babe

  Babe? Yup, I’m leaving it—send.

  Evan: But not with me up against your body, holding u, falling asleep with u

  Long delay as I talk myself out of talking myself out of it. I am 18 and it’s Evan. I’m finally getting a glimpse of being a girl noticing a boy, and the bravery it suddenly instills in me.

  Laney: Can you sneak back out?

  Evan: Yes. Why?

  Laney: I want to fall asleep with you again.

  Evan: Now?

  Laney: Now.

  Four minutes exactly until his gorgeous face appears at my window.

  “Did you lock your door?” he whispers when he’s finally through the window and inside my room. “I don’t want your dad to kill me!”

  “Yes, and I set my phone alarm for seven. You’re safe.”

  “We haven’t done this since we were like what, thirteen?”

  “I loved that cat, Evan! I couldn’t possibly have slept alone the night he died!”

  “I know, angel, totally understandable.”

  I hope he doesn’t think he hid that patronizing smirk. Truth is, he’d made that night bearable and risked getting in a ton of trouble to comfort me, so I’d finally reward him…right about now seems good.

  I scoot to the side of the bed, and in my best seductress move, pull him to me by his belt loop. His gaze never leaves mine; we speak without words. My heart is slamming against the walls of my chest as I run my hands up his chest. He lets me raise his shirt above his head and toss it to the floor. God, he’s amazing. His pecs are so well-defined and his abs are lined in a perfect six pack that v down into his waistband.

  There’s no way this is the same body he’s been bringing to family picnics and swims all these years! I mean really, how bad was this damn fog I’d been living in? The thought of running my hands, mout
h, and tongue all over him doesn’t quite shock me this time. I get more comfortable with my reactions to him every day, but I’m still nervous as hell right now. You’re probably supposed to ease yourself from foggy tomboy hermit to jezebel, but I’m ignoring that inner voice right now.

  I start to unbuckle his belt, stopping to look up at him and make sure this is okay. He nods slightly and runs a hand down my face. I slide it through the loops, adding it to his shirt. My hands are trembling as his hand joins mine to guide me as I unbutton his pants and pull down his zipper.

  The air hisses between his teeth and I feel his body tense, but he helps me move his jeans to the floor, our gazes still locked as he steps out of them. He is now standing before me, lit only by the moonlight through my window, in just his navy boxer briefs. I can clearly see the effect this is having on him, and I have to force myself to hold his gaze rather than let my eyes wander.

  I really hope he doesn’t think less of me right now, but I can’t seem to help myself. He’s awakened something in me and I feel a little forward, but yeah…not quite seeing disapproval in his eyes, more the exact opposite, so I’m thinking we’re good.

  I lie down, folding back the covers, and say, “Hold me, Evan.”

  He gently slips under the covers with me, sliding up against my back. I lift my head up and pull up my hair so he can slip one arm under. The other arm goes around my waist and pulls me tighter against him. I don’t even try to stifle my satisfied sigh and I feel him twitch against me in response.

  “Night, Evan.” My voice comes out shaky.

  He kisses my hair. “Night, my Laney.”

  AMAZED

  Prom night is finally here and it’s one of those moments it’d be nice to have my mom. My dad is amazing, the best man I know, and I’m sure he’ll cry at my wedding if I ever have one, but what I wouldn’t give to have her helping me right now.

  I wonder where she is at this exact moment? Did she think of events like this that she’d miss before making her departure? I’d feel better knowing she overlooked some things instead of simply not caring. Shaking the thoughts and threatening tears away, I go to assess myself in the full-length mirror. Apparently we have one of those handy.