A long beat passes. The kitchen feels smaller suddenly.
"If you stay," he says slowly, "I won't be able to stop touching you."
I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry. "I'm not asking you to."
Another pause. I can see him weighing his words, can see the internal battle playing out across his features. "But when your brother shows up?"
"We'll figure it out."
He sets down his fork, runs a hand through his hair. "You're not afraid he'll kill me?"
I grin, trying to lighten the moment even though my heart is racing. "He might. But it'd be worth it."
He stares at me for a long time, and I can see him processing what this means. What I'm asking for. What we'd be risking.
Then he shakes his head with a quiet chuckle and mutters, "fuck. It just might be worth it, Cassidy."
I already might have fallen a little bit in love with him then, I think.
For the first time in my life, the idea of taking a chance with someone doesn't scare me.
It feels like freedom.
Chapter Six: Evan
The second I see Dylan's name on my phone screen, my gut clenches.
Not just guilt, because I've already done the damage and crossed every line I swore I wouldn't cross that's kept my friendship with Dylan intact.
It felt more like dread.
I know this thing between me and Cass is not casual. It never was. Not for me.
The phone buzzes again in my hand, insistent and demanding. For a second, I consider letting it go to voicemail, except Dylan isn't the type to give up easily. He'll just keep calling until I answer.
I answer on the third ring, trying to swallow the guilt that tastes like ash in my mouth.
"Dylan," I say, trying to sound normal. Trying to sound like a man who hasn't spent the last two days buried inside his best friend's little sister.
"Hey, man." Dylan's voice crackles through the line, all easygoing charm and familiar warmth. The same voice that's been part of my life since we were seventeen and stupid, thinking we could conquer the world. "Hope you're not going stir-crazy up there with my sister."
Stir-crazy is the last thing I am. If anything, I've never felt more settled. More alive.
"Been fine," I manage.
"You settling in for the summer? Getting ready for fire season?"
I glance toward the kitchen, where the sound of running water and soft humming drifts toward me. Cassidy's in there, making a smoothie with ingredients she insisted we needed from our last trip to town. Her hips sway to whatever pop song is playing from her phone.
"I'm ready," I say.
"Well, change of plans. I'm coming up early. Tomorrow, probably."
My blood turns to ice. "Tomorrow?"
The word comes out sharper than I intended, and I have to clear my throat and force myself to sound casual. We were supposed to have another week. Time to figure out what this thing between us is, and time to prepare for the inevitable conversation with her brother.
Time I'm apparently not going to get.
