You Before Anyone Else by Julie Cross and Mark Perini Page A

“And yes, sheets. Blankets. Pullout couch. All of that.”
    After Dad is gone, I glance back at Eddie, expecting more of his teasing, but he looks almost as embarrassed as I am. Maybe even a little anxious. He scratches his head again. “You don’t think he heard the naked friend comment, do you?”
    I laugh, the humiliation already dimming. “No, he didn’t hear you. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be a big deal. Unfortunately, he is one of those cool dads. Maybe not cool, but realistic. I am eighteen. Not fifteen. And I live on my own now.”
    An awkward silence falls between us—the problem with one-night stands, I’m quickly learning—and we both put a bit more distance between us and continue the decorating. When we finally go back inside, my dad and the boys are in bed. I hang back, not wanting to stand close to Eddie now that there’s a bed in the family room. Eddie doesn’t go near the couch bed either. He strolls past the photos on the wall, stopping at one hanging above the mantel.
    â€œIs this your mom?” Eddie asks. I nod, waiting, knowing what’s coming next. Eddie adds, “She doesn’t look like you at all.”
    â€œYeah, I know. My mom used to joke all the time that my dad must have been running around on her, since none of her kids look like her.” I slide closer to him, assessing the photo of the dark-haired woman. It’s been a while since I’ve really looked at these photos and remembered my mom like this. I’m still staring at the picture, my thoughts elsewhere, when Eddie says, “Was it a car accident?”
    I wouldn’t say that it’s difficult for me talk about it. I’ve made peace with it, I keep my mom close to me, and I believe in heaven. But whenever I have to explain to someone who doesn’t know anything about my family, someone like Eddie who’ve I’ve kept things cool and casual with, it’s not easy.
    Heat rushes to my face. I glance sideways at Eddie for a second and see that he’s moved on to one of our last family photos, one where my dad is standing to his full height of six feet two and my brothers are little rubber-necked infants.
    I open my mouth to answer Eddie’s question but then decide to nod instead. I don’t want to hear any emotion in my voice. I don’t want to move backward.
    â€œWere you—” Eddie starts.
    â€œNo. I was at the studio.” I take a breath, surprised by how steady it is. Surprised that saying these details out loud hasn’t transported me back to that day. “Connor and Braden were in the car.” Worry creases his face, so I add, “They were fine. Barely a scratch.”
    Eddie turns to face me, his gaze so heavy and intense that I pull in a breath and hold it. “You have her eyes.”
    I hang on to his gaze, my feet shuffling closer until heat fills the space between us and completely envelops me. My head clouds with a million thoughts— Who are you, Eddie Wells? What is your story? Why does it seem like you have so much to tell? And why is your mouth so easy to stare at? And why do I want to kiss you so badly? I can hardly remember kissing him the first time, or maybe I’m refusing to let myself remember, but this only means it would be like the first time again.
    My fingers brush lightly on the front of his T-shirt at the same time as his hand drifts over a loose strand of my hair. My eyelids begin to flutter and close, my heart thudding a million beats a minute.
    Behind me, a door opens, and I jolt back to reality. Eddie releases a nervous laugh, and I shake my head and back away. “Friends. Just friends.”
    Both of us pull ourselves back together. Eddie seems to be done with his Belton family inquisition, so I move on to more technical hostess duties.
    For a couple minutes, while I’m handing Eddie a towel, pointing out the bathroom, and showing him the path that needs to