MasukMy heart lurches in excitement. It’s like it wants to jump out of my chest and prove to Cade right here and right now that it’s completely his after one simple sentence.
“Understood?” Even with the boyish haircut, I’m realizing how much Cade is no longer a boy and now every bit a man. He’s grown into his wide shoulders. Dark stubble now peppers his cheeks. Even the tone of his voice is more commanding. It’s deeper and seems to wrap around me and caress different parts of me.
All I can do is nod. Words don’t come to me. I’m too locked in on what’s happening between Cade and me in this clearing.
He taps my thigh, a slight smile on his lips. “Get up real quick.”
I do as he says, but stare at him, confused. I watch his moves closely, wondering where he’s going with this. Maintaining eye contact, he reaches into the pocket of his worn Levi’s. He pulls out a black lighter. The air around us becomes thick as he inches across the grass until his knees bump against mine.
His full lips tilt up ever so lightly. He holds the lighter between us. “If Pippa had been awake she no doubt would’ve brought some homemade birthday treat for you, but I’m shit at baking, and wasn’t exactly prepared for tonight.”
“I don’t need anything,” I interrupt. What I don’t say is that no matter how much I love Pippa, tonight with him, is a better way to spend the night I turn sixteen than what I’d originally planned. A dessert isn’t needed. The alone time with him is more than enough. It’s all I could’ve ever wanted.
Cade slides his phone out of his pocket, looking down at the lit screen. It’s one minute until midnight. One minute until it’s my birthday. “It’s your birthday, Goldie. Everyone deserves to make a wish on their birthday.”
He flicks the lighter, a flame illuminating the space between us. He leans in closer, his breath hitting my cheek as he breathes out. Lifting his hand, he cradles the flame to protect it from the breeze around us.
My breath catches in my chest when he looks up at me. The moon reflects off the flecks in his copper eyes. I’m so close that if I dared, I could reach out and feel his sharp jawline. I might even feel the soft prickle of facial hair that dusts his skin. I don’t dare to move, afraid if I moved even a fraction of an inch that I’d ruin the moment between us.
His eyes flick to the phone on the grass in front of us. We both watch it as it turns to midnight. Cade looks back at me and smiles.
I’ve never been more sure I’m in love with him. This isn’t just a crush. It’s the soul crushing kind of feeling, one I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to recover from. His lip twitches before he speaks. “Happy birthday, Goldie. Make a wish.”
Leaning forward, I move my hair to my back so it isn’t in the way. I close my eyes, already knowing what my wish is going to be.
I’ve never wasted a wish on Cade because it felt silly to wish for something that I couldn’t have. But the way his eyes lingered on my lips as my eyes fluttered shut had me thinking what-if.
With a smile on my lips, I make my wish.
I wish for Cade Jennings. I wish for him three times, hoping maybe the extra two times will be the reason it comes true. When my eyes slowly open, I find him watching me with hooded lids. My lips pucker before I blow out the flame.
Cade lowers his hand, tucking the lighter back in his pocket, never once looking away from my lips. “What’d you wish for?”
My tongue peeks out to wet my lips. I can’t help but wonder what he tastes like. Will he taste like the peppermints he’s always sucking on? Will he taste like something different? More manly? At seven I told him to kiss me on a dare, telling everyone he was my first kiss and I was his because I was afraid he’d kiss someone else. Since then, I’ve shared soft kisses with a few other boys in my grade.
But deep down, the only boy I’ve ever wanted to kiss was the one staring at me like he might do just that—kiss me.
“If I tell you my wish, it won’t come true.”
“That must be one special wish.”
I laugh. If only he knew. “Only the most special.”
Everything around us fades to black as he leans in closer. Heat washes over my body in anticipation.
I think Cade Jennings wants to kiss me. And I’m desperate for him to.
My eyelids flutter shut, my lips parting slightly, eagerly waiting for him. One second ticks by, and then another and another. When I don’t feel him press his lips against mine, I open my eyes, to find him farther away than he was.
His expression has hardened once again.
My heart sinks. Maybe my wish was silly. His body language says everything. He isn’t going to kiss me. But for a moment, it really felt like he wanted to.
Cade plucks a blade of grass from the ground, bringing it closer to his face. “We shouldn’t be out here.”
Annoyed, I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “And why is that?”
“You know exactly why.”
“Don’t be vague with me, Cade.” I’m shocked by the bluntness of my words. My head spins from the back and forth of the last few minutes with him.
His features soften. As if he’s trying to drive me crazy, Cade pops off the ground. Before I can ask him what he’s doing, he’s bounding down a hill, only his head visible.
I’m about to get up when he returns, his hands behind his back.
I raise an eyebrow. “What could you have possibly found out here?”
One side of his mouth upturns. “A birthday present.”
I stand up, wiping dirt and grass from the backs of my thighs. “For me?”
Cade looks around us. “No. For Tonka. Is it his birthday?”
I smack his stomach. His muscles are hard underneath my skin. He grunts, having to take the hit because his hands are still tucked behind his back. “You don’t have to be an ass.”
“Close your eyes.”
Mine narrow on him. He tucks his chin, gesturing for me to do as he says.
He doesn’t know I’d do anything and everything he told me to. Even with the rollercoaster ride of an evening with him, it’s the most excitement I’ve had in a long time.
Doing as I’m told, I close my eyes, eager to see what he found. My eyes don’t have to be opened to know he’s gotten closer. I can just feel him—sense him.
“Open.” His voice is much closer.
My eyes flutter open, focusing on what he holds in his hands.
“A marigold,” I whisper, marveling at the vibrant flower clutched tenderly between his thumb and pointer finger.
I look at him, silently asking if I can take it. He nods, handing the flower over to me. “I didn’t know we had any here.”
He shrugs. “I guess we do now.”
My eyes take in the vibrant yellow and orange colors of the petals. They’re so bright. The colors remind me of the flame of his lighter. “It’s beautiful,” I marvel, twirling the flower between my fingers.
“That’s the thing about marigolds. They’re all beautiful.”
My eyes immediately find his. He just called me beautiful. Right?
“Cade.”
He softly takes the flower from between my fingers. I don’t protest. I can’t. Not after what he just said. Not with the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
His rough fingertips brush the tender skin of my cheek. He pushes all my hair behind my ear before he tucks the flower right behind it. He must feel the thump of my racing pulse against his fingertips as he cups my cheek. There’s the rough scratch of a callus from his thumb when he lets it brush over my cheekbone.
“Thank you for spending your birthday with me, Goldie.”
Cade Jennings may not have kissed me tonight, but even without the press of his lips to mine, I feel like he’s said so much without really saying anything at all.
I don’t think I’m the only one who has felt the shift between us, but I just might be the only person who wants to act on it.
CAMDENI’m sitting in my tiny office in the Sutten gallery, reviewing new pieces I’m having shipped here, when the bell to the gallery chimes. My eyes fall to the time in the corner of my monitor screen. It’s barely seven in the morning. We aren’t open yet. We aren’t open at all today. Almost every piece of art had sold at the opening over the weekend. And anything that didn’t sell that night sold on Monday. It’s Wednesday, so the gallery is empty, and I won’t have new inventory until this weekend.Sighing, I push my chair away from my desk and head down the hallway. I hadn’t bothered locking the door to the gallery because I thought the closed sign on the door and the lack of lights would inform anyone curious enough to wander by that we were closed.I’m ready to tell the customer I have nothing to sell them when my feet come to a halt. It isn’t a customer in the gallery. It’s Pippa.She doesn’t notice me, her eyes trained on a piece of art on the far wall that isn’t for sale. It was
“What’s that?” Lenora yells, sitting forward slightly. Her forehead bumps against the bowl of the dryer. She tries to swat it away, but it doesn’t work. “You said you and him have already boinked?”“No!” I screech, sitting forward so quickly I almost fall out of my chair. “Definitely not. Never going to happen.”“You had a hot encounter with the new art owner?” Rosemary asks, equally as loud as her friend.I didn’t think it could get any worse, but it does. It totally does because I know this town, and I know even if I stood on my chair and addressed every single person in here to tell them Camden and I most definitely have never slept together, the rumors would still spread like wildfire, thanks to Rosemary’s outlandish question.This can’t be happening. I begin to think of what alias I’ll live under when I move halfway across the country. I always wanted to be named after a princess when I was younger. Could I pass as an Ariel? Or maybe Aurora? What was Snow White’s name again? Was
PIPPA“Pippa, darling, who are you getting freaky with lately?”I’d respond to the sweet old lady sitting in the salon chair next to me, but I’m too busy choking on the latte I’d been sucking down. I sputter, trying to swallow the iced coffee that’d gone down the wrong pipe.“Stop wiggling,” Rhonda chides, holding on tight to a chunk of my hair as I try not to die at the words from a lady who hosts her bible studies at Wake and Bake some mornings.“What?” Rosemary asks innocently, like the question she asked me was completely normal conversation for a Saturday afternoon at the hair salon.“You can’t just go asking young ladies who they’re boinking, Rosemary,” Lenora chides from next to her friend. They’re both old enough to be my grandmother. In fact, they both were very close with my Grandma Pat before she passed.“Who uses the word boinking?” Rosemary fires back, her focus on the gossip magazine in front of her. I wish I was underneath one of the hair dryers so I could pretend this
CAMDENI take a second before going back to the event. Pippa walked out the door a few minutes ago, yet I haven’t moved since she left. It still smells like her in my office, the scent of her surrounding me, even though I’d prefer it not to. I don’t like how she smells unlike any woman I know. I’m used to the scent of a few different expensive perfumes. All women in my circle wear the same handful of fragrances. They’re either way too flowery or way too overpowering.Pippa doesn’t smell like either. Everywhere she goes, she leaves the scent of vanilla and strawberries. I find myself taking a deep inhale, hating myself for wanting to get another waft of her.I stare ahead of me at the statue in the corner of my office. It’s something I almost didn’t bring with me from Manhattan. It wasn’t intended to be sold; there was no reason for me to bring it with me. But I couldn’t help it.And now after watching Pippa marvel at it, I’m wondering if maybe it has a chance to sell. Maybe I should g
PIPPAI don’t know if I’ve ever seen something so beautiful that it took my breath away. I’m speechless, allowing my finger to gently run over the carved curves of the statue.It’s of a couple, but only from their waist up. They clutch one another so delicately, so fiercely, that it’s obvious they’re in love. You look at them and it seems like something is trying to keep them apart, but they’re clinging to each other so tightly, like they won’t let anything come between them. The way her back arches, it appears as if some outside force you can’t see is pulling her from him.“This is stunning,” I whisper, running my finger along their outstretched arms.“You think?” Camden keeps his voice poised, but I can feel his gaze hot on me.“Why isn’t it on display out there? It would sell immediately.”“The artist doesn’t want to sell it.”I look at him in shock. Who wouldn’t want to sell this masterpiece? I don’t know anything about art, but it’s so intricate I have to imagine so many people w
CAMDENPippa tries to wiggle out of my grip, but I don’t give her any leeway. She isn’t leaving. But this sorry excuse of a human I regret ever inviting sure is.“You can’t be serious,” Jason hisses, outstretching his hands to try and play it cool.It isn’t.He just called Pippa stupid in multiple different ways, and he thinks everything is cool? Absolutely pathetic.“Camden, it’s fine,” Pippa insists from my side. “I can go.”I don’t even give an answer. There’s no way in hell she’s going anywhere when she’s done nothing wrong.“Jason, don’t make any more of a scene than you already have. You can leave, or I can make you leave, which would make me very, very upset because I don’t like drama or theatrics.”“You’re going to defend a server over me? I’ve been friends with your father since before you were born.”I hate the feeling of all eyes on us. I’ve never been one who enjoys attention. It reminds me of when I was a child and my parents would parade me around to all of their friends







