or she was pretending to be.”
I scratch my nose to keep from grinning. “Don’t take it personally. Cece’s just that way. If you really want her, keep trying. It’s what she wants.”
“Are you friends with her?”
“I used to be.” I clamp my jaw down, realizing how true my words are. That we’re not friends anymore, because I chose to run away from her, too. How many things can I run from before I won’t have anything at all? Shaking the thought from my head, I move to step around him. “Sorry, but I need to go.”
“No, wait.” Luca looks over at his mom then back to me. “Okay, I’m going to give you a head’s up. She’s not going to give up until you accept the ride, so you might as well just let us take you home. And if you try to walk off right now, she’s just going to chase you down. And trust me, as funny as that sounds, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
I drag my teeth over my lip, suffocating a laugh. “She’s done that to you before.”
“Oh, yeah. Many, many times.”
“What were you doing that she needed to chase you?”
He cracks his knuckles, shifting his weight. “Let’s just say I used to like to run away a lot.”
Run away like I do, or does he mean something else by that?
I eye him over, trying to read him. “It’s really not that big of a deal. I’m not really running away. Just trying to get home, and it’s only a couple of miles away.”
“Yeah, but she’ll still chase you down, so you might as well just get in the car, save yourself the embarrassment, and enjoy the free air conditioning.” He takes in my outfit with a slow, deliberate gaze. “So, is the sweater and leather jacket some rebellious family uniform? Because I’m pretty sure your sister was wearing one yesterday, and it was equally warm outside.”
“No, I just like sweaters and leather jackets.” I glance over his scuffed boots, dark denim jeans, and plaid shirt. “And like your outfit’s any better. Long-sleeve plaid. Yeah, that screams warm weather.”
“Hey, I have my sleeves pushed up. And besides, the weather is freakishly weird around here, something I didn’t realize until now. I mean, one minute it’s raining. The next it’s seventy-five degrees. It doesn’t make any sense.” He waves his hands around, talking animatedly, and I have to bite back another giggle because he looks so cute doing it. “Either be warm or cold, but not back and forth. It’s confusing and makes me miss LA.” He sighs, his arms falling to the side. “And just so you know, I don’t always dress like this. I just had a meeting I needed to dress up for.”
I peer down the street lined with quaint secondhand shops, a cozy café, and a travel agency. Thankfully, Cece and Ben are gone. “What kind of meeting?”
He scratches at his arm and frowns. “One with my dad. It was a job interview actually.”
I remember the other night how I saw the man crying on the porch and wonder if that was his dad. “Where does your dad work?”
“He bought the hobby store on the corner and is fixing it up. The grand opening is in a few days. I had an,” he makes air quotes, “interview so he could make sure I’m qualified to work there.”
“Your dad made you interview for a job . . . That’s kind of harsh. My dad never made me interview when I decided to work at his store.” My heart tightens in my chest at the mention of my dad and how nice of a guy he was.
“Yeah, it sucks, but that’s just how he is, and honestly, we’ve never really gotten along. I wouldn’t even bother working at his store, but I need the money for college and stuff,” he says, unwinding a bit. “As much as I love my parents, I can’t wait to be out on my own. And not in Honeyton. No offense, but this town’s a little strange.”
“None taken.” I used to be okay living in this town at one time in my life, but now, too many people know my
I scratch my nose to keep from grinning. “Don’t take it personally. Cece’s just that way. If you really want her, keep trying. It’s what she wants.”
“Are you friends with her?”
“I used to be.” I clamp my jaw down, realizing how true my words are. That we’re not friends anymore, because I chose to run away from her, too. How many things can I run from before I won’t have anything at all? Shaking the thought from my head, I move to step around him. “Sorry, but I need to go.”
“No, wait.” Luca looks over at his mom then back to me. “Okay, I’m going to give you a head’s up. She’s not going to give up until you accept the ride, so you might as well just let us take you home. And if you try to walk off right now, she’s just going to chase you down. And trust me, as funny as that sounds, it’s kind of embarrassing.”
I drag my teeth over my lip, suffocating a laugh. “She’s done that to you before.”
“Oh, yeah. Many, many times.”
“What were you doing that she needed to chase you?”
He cracks his knuckles, shifting his weight. “Let’s just say I used to like to run away a lot.”
Run away like I do, or does he mean something else by that?
I eye him over, trying to read him. “It’s really not that big of a deal. I’m not really running away. Just trying to get home, and it’s only a couple of miles away.”
“Yeah, but she’ll still chase you down, so you might as well just get in the car, save yourself the embarrassment, and enjoy the free air conditioning.” He takes in my outfit with a slow, deliberate gaze. “So, is the sweater and leather jacket some rebellious family uniform? Because I’m pretty sure your sister was wearing one yesterday, and it was equally warm outside.”
“No, I just like sweaters and leather jackets.” I glance over his scuffed boots, dark denim jeans, and plaid shirt. “And like your outfit’s any better. Long-sleeve plaid. Yeah, that screams warm weather.”
“Hey, I have my sleeves pushed up. And besides, the weather is freakishly weird around here, something I didn’t realize until now. I mean, one minute it’s raining. The next it’s seventy-five degrees. It doesn’t make any sense.” He waves his hands around, talking animatedly, and I have to bite back another giggle because he looks so cute doing it. “Either be warm or cold, but not back and forth. It’s confusing and makes me miss LA.” He sighs, his arms falling to the side. “And just so you know, I don’t always dress like this. I just had a meeting I needed to dress up for.”
I peer down the street lined with quaint secondhand shops, a cozy café, and a travel agency. Thankfully, Cece and Ben are gone. “What kind of meeting?”
He scratches at his arm and frowns. “One with my dad. It was a job interview actually.”
I remember the other night how I saw the man crying on the porch and wonder if that was his dad. “Where does your dad work?”
“He bought the hobby store on the corner and is fixing it up. The grand opening is in a few days. I had an,” he makes air quotes, “interview so he could make sure I’m qualified to work there.”
“Your dad made you interview for a job . . . That’s kind of harsh. My dad never made me interview when I decided to work at his store.” My heart tightens in my chest at the mention of my dad and how nice of a guy he was.
“Yeah, it sucks, but that’s just how he is, and honestly, we’ve never really gotten along. I wouldn’t even bother working at his store, but I need the money for college and stuff,” he says, unwinding a bit. “As much as I love my parents, I can’t wait to be out on my own. And not in Honeyton. No offense, but this town’s a little strange.”
“None taken.” I used to be okay living in this town at one time in my life, but now, too many people know my
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