“Yeah, well, you got all the athleticism.”

I slide a glance back down the hall where Tate’s father disappeared. When Anna leaves, it will just be Tate and his dad. That won’t be fun.

“I’ll be back for Thanksgiving. And Christmas,” she’s quick to say. “And don’t forget you’ll be close next year. Not far from me.”

“Is that where you’re going? California?”

“Probably. Hopefully Berkeley. They’ve got a great swim program.”

“They’re dying to have him,” his sister volunteers, her voice full of pride.

I moisten my lips. “I’ve always wanted to go to California. I’ve never even seen the ocean.”

With any luck, I will next summer. But I don’t say this. It’s too complicated to explain why I’ll be there if not to attend college.

“You should go to school out there with us. We can learn to surf together. Or you should at least come out and visit us.” Anna tosses another bit of popcorn into her mouth.

“Yeah. You should,” Tate agrees and his eyes hold mine until my cheeks grow hot beneath his gaze. Am I actually discussing a way to see them again? A way to see Tate? That can never happen. I might have allowed myself this adventure, but there’s no permanence to our relationship. I’m not going to see him after I return home. That’s impossible. If the pride knew …

A door creaks open from somewhere in the back of the house and slams shut, the sound vibrating on the air.

“Hey!” a feminine voice calls out. Footsteps ring out a moment before Hailey appears in the living room. She stops there, her expression clouding over as she takes in the three of us curled up on the big couch.

“What are you doing here?” She nods at me and crosses her arms.

The earlier warmth in my cheeks is a scalding burn now.

Tate tenses beside me, but Anna smiles like nothing is wrong, reminding me that this is her best friend. “Hey, Hailey. Tate brought Az over so I could properly thank her for saving my life.”

“Az.” Her lip curls back faintly from her teeth. “What kind of name is that anyway?”

“I think I should go.” I hand the bowl of popcorn to Anna. She fumbles to keep it from spilling.

“Oh, stay,” Anna insists as I rise to my feet.

Tate’s hand falls on my arm. “You don’t have to go.”

“She wants to go. Let her. Jeez.” Hailey shrugs. “What’s the big deal? You guys just met her.”

“Hailey!” Anna looks at her like a disappointed parent. “She’s our guest.”

“You mean she’s Tate’s guest, right?” Emotion glitters in her eyes.

“That’s enough, Hailey,” he says softly, but his voice is no less commanding.

“No, Tate. It’s not enough. How can you do this to me?”

Tate slices a hand through the air. “I’m not doing anything to you, Hailey. When are you going to understand?”

“How many times do I have to apologize for—”

“This isn’t the right time, Hailey.” He flicks me a glance.

I shake my head. Suddenly I feel like I’m trapped in a soap opera. Obviously Hailey feels like she has some sort of claim on Tate. Justified or not, I really should leave.

I don’t look down at either Tate or Anna again—instead focus my gaze on the front door. “Thank you, but I really have to go.” I start moving.

“Az, wait.”

With one hand on the doorknob, I shoot a quick glimpse over my shoulder. Tate stands, but Hailey quickly blocks him. A roaring starts in my ears, preventing me from hearing her words. A relief. I already heard enough.

I flee outside. Humiliation rides high in my chest. A deep, aching pressure. It isn’t until I’m halfway to the street that I realize I don’t have a ride home. But I won’t have any trouble finding my own way. Nothing will make me go back in that house.

My feet pound the sidewalk, working quickly, hoping to put distance between me and Tate. Air saws hotly from lips. Emotion stings my eyes and I blink fiercely.

It’s silly to feel this, to feel anything. I shouldn’t care about walking away from him. We should never have met to begin with.

The traffic light blinks up ahead. My pace quickens. Once I reach it, I’ll turn and then be on the main street. That much closer to home.

I’m caught in the bright glare of headlights. Sighing, expecting it to be Tate coming after me, I turn and hold a hand over my eyes, waiting, preparing myself to resist whatever apology he offers … and those eyes.

The truck swerves dangerously close to the sidewalk and where I stand before jerking to a halt. Loud music spills from the double cab. I count the outline of three people inside the vehicle.

The driver door swings open, nearly clipping me. I jump back a step as a boy unfolds his bulky frame out onto the sidewalk.

“Hey, you again,” he slurs.

In the light from the headlights, I recognize Brett from the pond last night.

He staggers a step closer and I’m assailed by the fumes of alcohol. I recoil, pressing a hand to my nose.

“What are you doing out here alone?” He glances around. “Tate lives around here. You coming from his place? What? He can’t drive you home like a gentleman?” He grasps my arm, his damp fingers slick on my skin. “Why don’t you come with us? I’ll get you home.” His touch gentles, stroking my skin. “I’ll treat you right.”

I suppress a shudder. For a moment I wish I had Jacinda’s talent so that I could incinerate this letch right where he stands.

“Come on.” He nods toward his truck.

Get in the car with a handsy, inebriated boy? Yeah. Right. Not that stupid. “No. Thanks. I can walk.”

“Now, don’t be like that.” He inches closer until he’s almost flush with me. “You gave Tate a whirl; now it’s my turn.”

I gasp as his face dips toward me. I surge away, shoving at his massive chest. “Let go of me!”

Suddenly we’re awash in another set of headlights. The vehicle brakes hard behind Brett’s truck. The door flings open and Tate strides toward us.

“Let her go,” he growls, not breaking pace, his expression fierce.

“Look what I found! Lose something, Tate?” Brett moves to the side, his meaty arm circling my waist. “You should take better care of your date.”

Tate halts in front of us. The two boys glare at each other, convincing me, in case I had any doubts, that they’re more than rivals. These two hate each other. It doesn’t have anything to do with me. I’m just another pawn in their game. And the idea of this infuriates me.

“Let me go.” I attempt to step from the cage of Brett’s arm, but he holds me fast.

“Ah, this one has more spirit to her than the last one who ditched you for me.”

I freeze as understanding sinks in. Is Brett the reason Tate isn’t with Hailey anymore? I laugh bitterly. “Don’t tell me I’m caught in some love triangle?”

“Az.” Tate says my name tightly, his eyes beseeching.

“Thanks but no thanks, guys. I’ll pass.”

“Hear that, Tate?” Brett sneers. “She’s not interested in you.” His hand squeezes my arm like my words somehow indicated I picked him. “Looks like she’s mine.”

Tate’s fist flashes past me so quickly it’s a blur. I hardly see it connecting with Brett’s face—only hear the crunch of bone on bone. Blood spurts from Brett’s nose.

Brett drops his arm from my waist and lurches back with a cry, his hands cupping his nose. “You broke it,” he cries, his voice muffled.

The other two guys, also football players from the size of them, pile out of the truck with loud whoops, ready to defend their friend. They charge Tate. I don’t think. I react, jumping in front of him.

“Stop!” I shout, holding up a hand as though that alone will ward them off.

Tate’s breath is hot in my ear. “You don’t need to protect me—”

I wave back at him, continuing to glare at the other boys in front of me. “Unless you want me to go to the police and explain how it’s not safe for a girl to walk the streets of your town without getting accosted, you better get back in that truck and leave.”

“Go ahead. Weaver’s grandpa is the sheriff,” one of the boys suggests.

“Oh.” I c**k my head. “Then I’m sure he’ll love to hear how his grandson groped me and is driving around drunk.” I settle the full force of my glare on Brett, who still clutches his nose, blood seeping between his fingers.

After a long moment, he replies, “Come on, guys. Let’s go.”

Tate and I watch them climb up into the vehicle and drive away.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he mutters. “I had it under control.”

I face him. “Three against one? Those are odds you’re used to?”

He angles his head and studies me strangely—like I’m strange. “I was defending you.”

I prop a hand on my hip. “Was this about me? Or someone else?”

He sighs. “Hailey and I have been done for a year now. She’s my sister’s best friend. That’s all there is to that. This”—he waves a hand in the direction Brett drove—“was me trying to stop that jerk from putting his hands all over you.”

I shrug, trying not to let his words soften me. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“It matters to me.” He drags two hands through his hair. “This night has not gone the way I planned.”

“You had a plan?” I cross my arms over my chest, unable to stamp down my curiosity.

“Well, for one, I didn’t plan on my ex barging into the house and making a scene. Or the jerk school quarterback making a pass at you.”

My lips quirk. “Ohh, that wasn’t part of your plan?”

He stares at me, some of his frustration giving way for that other expression of his. The one that makes my knees go weak and my skin tug and warm simultaneously.

“I’m really sorry,” he says in a low voice, taking a step closer to me. One step too close. This near, I can inhale him, drink in his smell. Like the soft, crisp aroma of water with an underlying hint of pine. A purr builds in the back of my throat.

I blink and shake my head, swallowing against the rumbling threat of draki speech. I could just imagine myself speaking in the draki tongue. How fantastic would that be?

“I’d like to go home. Now,” I blurt, stepping around him, my voice rough and scratchy but still human, thankfully. I climb into the passenger side of his Jeep. After a moment he gets behind the wheel. With a ragged sigh, he slides into drive and pulls away from the curb.

Silence stretches between us. I clutch my thighs, my palms curving around my tightening, rippling flesh as if I can hold myself together that way and keep from splintering apart. Keep that feral part of me from bursting free. At least until I’m tucked away safely in my room.

9

As we leave the lights of Main Street behind, he clears his throat beside me, almost like he knows our time together is drawing to a close and is preparing to say something, the last words between us. My chest hurts just thinking about it, and that tells me just how wrong this is … Him. Me. Us. I shouldn’t care this much after so short a time.

“I really am sorry about tonight. It went about as bad as it could go.” He glances in my direction, his gaze pausing on my legs, on my hands glued there.

“It doesn’t matter,” I say again, sipping the air-conditioned air, hoping to cool the heat spreading out from my core. Beads of sweat break out on my forehead.

And it really doesn’t matter anymore. I believe him when he says he and Hailey are over. I believe him. I like him. I’m crazy attracted to him. This gorgeous boy who looks at me with devouring eyes. How can I resist him?