I want to be fierce. I want to be the girl that’s not an afterthought. I wanted to turn into that girl this summer, but here I stand with scratches on my arms and dirt under my nails, looking more the tomboy than ever.
Sighing, I step inside the tub, resigned to get tonight over with.
My shower is quick, my hair taking longer to blow dry than anything else, and I don’t bother to do anything with it other than tuck it into a messy bun on the top of my head. My clothes are basic, a simple tank top and cutoff shorts.
My flip-flops clack on the hardwood stairs as I make my way toward the front door.
“Have a good time,” Nan says, still sitting at the table with a wide grin on her face. “Hopefully a few hours with a pretty girl will be just what Zeke needs. Daniel isn’t doing very well. I imagine that boy is suffering right along with his dad.”
Guilt swims in my gut as tears burn the backs of my eyes. Nodding swiftly to Nan, I step outside under the pretense of waiting for Zeke on the porch. I haven’t for a second forgotten that Zeke’s dad was sick, but he hasn’t brought up his illness, so neither have I.
Maybe I should pull him to the side tomorrow and let him know that I’m here for him if he needs to talk or a shoulder to cry on, but I doubt that will go over well. Zeke doesn’t seem the type to show many emotions other than anger, and being vulnerable around anyone will probably never happen.
I ring my hands in my lap as I sit on the front steps, missing the feel of Zeke’s calloused hand against my palm even though it’s been weeks since I felt it. If I concentrate long enough, I can still feel the whisper of his skin against my own.
I’m seconds away from standing and making my way to the barn to hide out when headlights turn down the driveway. I know it’s Zeke’s old truck just by the familiar sound of the engine. Standing, not expecting him to climb out to get me, I begin to walk to the driver’s side, hellbent on letting him know that we don’t have to go through with this. I open my mouth to explain my plans to hide in the barn, but then his door swings open, and out steps a freshly showered Zeke.
He’s got on nice, dark-washed jeans I’ve never seen him wear before, and his button-down shirt is crisp, the cuffs rolled up his tanned, muscular forearms. Dress boots don his feet, and he’s the perfect image of a handsome country boy, smirking lips and all.
“I didn’t think you’d show,” I whisper as he takes another step closer to me.
“We made plans over a month ago, Frankie. Of course, I’d be here.”
Emotion clogs my throat because even after everything that’s happened, he still kept the promise he made to Nan that first night we met.
“I was going to hide out in the barn for a couple hours.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder, and his eyes dart to the old building as his tongue caresses his lower lip.
I couldn’t read his thoughts easier if there was a big neon sign above his head. He likes the idea of spending time with me alone in the barn. Either that, or he’s working through another manipulation.
Deciding it’s the latter like it’s been every other time, I walk around the front of his truck. “Let’s get this night over with.”Chapter 17Zeke
Damn it.
She’s in a bad mood.
But the frown on her face doesn’t distract me from the scent lingering on her skin as it fills the cab of the truck when I climb inside. It’s too hot to keep the windows rolled up, but I hate knowing the perfect combination of lavender and honey will escape out the window once I start to drive.
Chancing that I read her eyes right when she saw me, I look over at her and grin. It’s several long seconds of her staring out her side window before she’s curious as to why I haven’t pulled out of the driveway, enough to look over at me.
“You look stunning.”
Beyond sexy, if I’m completely honest with myself.
She scoffs, immediately turning her eyes to look away from me. “It’s a tank top and cutoff shorts, Zeke. Don’t start with your foolish manipulations before we even get out of the driveway.”
We’re not even five minutes into our date and we’re already off to a horrible start. I can’t blame her though. She’s once again in my truck, no doubt forced by her nan to spend time with me when she’d probably like nothing better than to be spending the evening with Rowdy.