I push aside my petty jealousy, just for a moment, and I think about him—how broken he was because of her—and I see things from his perspective. I jump off the bench and wrap my arms around his waist. “I’m being selfish.”

“Honestly? A little.”

I pull back and pout at him.

He smiles, running his grease stained thumb across my lips.

“Just don’t like… sleep with her. Or touch her. Or try not to even look at her.”

“You’re not being fair, Riley.”

“Yeah, but I’m also not blind and regardless of how badly I wish, I don’t have amnesia. I remember what she looks like, Dylan. And you’re a guy.”

He shakes his head with his intake of breath. Then he looks down at me. “I’m also a guy who’s madly in love with you, Riley.”

“What?” I whisper, my breath leaving me.

“You need me to repeat it?”

“No.” I try to suppress my smile. I can’t. “Maybe?”

He doesn’t skip a beat. “I’m madly in love with you, Riley.”

“Again?”

He laughs. “You want me to write it down?”

I can’t stop smiling. “Yes.”

With a chuckle, he releases me and gets a marker from one of the drawers on the bench, then grabs my arm. I watch his face as the pen presses down on my skin, marking me, making me his.

I love you, Riley Hudson.

Then underneath;

Semper Fidelis.

“Isn’t that the Marine Corps motto?”

He nods. “Know what it means?”

“No.”

“Always faithful.”

Dylan

There was always a level of fear when it came to Heidi. From the first time she talked to me sophomore year and even after we’d started dating. It’s completely fair to say she was the hottest girl in school, at least on my radar. When I finally took enough of her hints and worked up the courage to ask her out—I was still surprised she said yes. It was no secret she dated before me. Guys who were older, even Logan (if you can call what they did dating).

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I always found myself kind of in awe of her beauty and presence. Being with her was intimidating, to say the least. Maybe that’s why I kept my mouth shut around her—in fear that I’d say something dumb or try to joke around and she wouldn’t find it funny like Riley does.

But as I hear her car door close a good half hour after Riley left, followed by the clicking of her heels against the concrete of my driveway, I don’t feel intimidated. I don’t feel afraid. In fact, I don’t feel much of anything at all.

I wipe my hands on the rag and pop my head out from under the hood of the Honda, faking a smile as she walks toward me, her familiar hips swaying from side to side. She hadn’t changed much in the few months since I’d seen her. Not that I expected her to. I guess what’s changed is my perspective. Not just of her, but of us.

“Hey,” she says, her perfectly applied red lipstick curving with her smile. Her bright blue eyes take me in as she flicks her hair over her shoulder—hair that seems to glow gold from the orange of the sunset.

I stand next to the car, my hands in my pockets and I nod once. “Hey.”

“You still messing around with the cars, I see.”

Maybe I should be annoyed at her choice of words, but I’m not. That’s just Heidi. “You home to visit your parents?” I ask.

She nods and looks around the garage. “I don’t think I’ve ever really been in here.”

“You haven’t,” I say curtly. It comes out harsher than intended but I don’t back down.

Her smile falls, just for a moment, before returning. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s good.”

“Eric’s home now, right? How is he?”

“Also good.” I lean back against the car and cross my arms. “And you?”

She inhales a breath through her nose, her hands by her sides. Her jeans hug her waist and continue that way all the way down to her ankles. “I’m okay. You know, senior year. Getting by. You miss college?” she asks, a slight laugh bubbling out of her. Probably because she already knows my answer.

“Not a single fucking minute of it.”

Her smile drops, her hands now clasped together in front of her. “I’m sorry, Dylan. I didn’t think it would be this awkward.”

I shake my head. “It’s not.”

“I just wanted to see you, I guess. Make sure you were okay. I heard you got—”

“You heard?” I cut in.

She shrugs. “I asked. I knew the guys were coming to see you so…”

“So you could’ve contacted me yourself.”

“I wanted to, Dylan,” she says, her tone pleading. “I didn’t think you’d want anything to do with me after the way we left things.”

“I was angry back then.”

“And you had every right to be,” she rushes out. “I betrayed you in the worst possible way, not just by what I did but by not telling you about it to begin with. I was scared—”

“I don’t really care,” I interrupt.

“Dylan.”

“No.” I exhale loudly, trying to keep my emotions in check. “I don’t mean I don’t care about your apology or whatever this is. I’m just saying that I don’t care about it; what happened in the past. I’m not mad. Not anymore.”