Happenstance: Part Two (Happenstance #2) Read Free Page B

door. “What?”
    His maroon-and-white baseball cap was turned backward, pieces of his brown hair peeking out. He’d already had a shower, and I imagined his Old Spice body wash—which was now my favorite smell—would probably hit my nose the second I climbed into my seat.
    His cheeks were flushed, and his slightly pointy nose was still a little shiny from being freshly scrubbed. The pair of emerald pools that sat within those long, dark lashes smoldered against his tanned skin.
    I used to steal glances of him as often as I could, and now I could stare at him for as long as I wanted. He’d said a few times now that he loved me, and it wasn’t a recent epiphany. Weston Gates had loved me since we were kids, and all that time I probably loved him too. I just didn’t recognize it for what it was because I couldn’t. There was no hope then. And there he was, sitting high above me in his jacked-up truck, the glasspacks announcing to the world that he was at the Dairy Queen to pick me up from work, and it was becoming a normal thing. For us and everyone else in our tiny town.
    “You’re not going to say sorry again for earlier, are you?” he asked, clearly not wanting to rehash it.
    “No, I was kind of hoping we could stop out at the overpass before you take me home.”
    He beamed. “Oh yeah?” Before I could answer, he disappeared, leaning over to pull the handle of the passenger-side door and push it open. His face popped back into view. “Hop in, babe. I’ve got a Fanta Orange in a cooler in the back with your name on it.”
    I walked around and climbed in. “You’re so romantic.”
    He pulled me closer to him and rested his hand on my thigh. “You’re welcome,” he said with a teasing smirk.
    After a quick peck on my cheek, he pressed on the gas and pulled out onto Main Street, making a quick left to head to the overpass. Our overpass , as he called it.
    The truck hadn’t been in park for ten minutes, but we were already skin to skin in the bed of his truck. I sensed hesitation as he kissed me, and I pulled back to look him in the eye.
    “What’s up with you?” I asked.
    “Nothing.”
    “Liar.”
    “Uh…this is embarrassing,” he said with a nervous chuckle.
    “What’s embarrassing?”
    “And really inappropriate. I should have said something sooner.”
    “Oh God. What?” I thought of the worst possible scenarios, so that no matter what he said, it couldn’t be as bad as I had imagined.
    “So, after practice today, I get a text from Julianne.”
    “Okay?”
    “Sam had some time before his late case, and they invited me over to chat. They”—he cringed—“had the talk with me.”
    “What talk?”
    “About us. About this. About protection and—”
    “Oh God! Oh no!” I said, rolling out from under him. I sat up and slipped my shirt over my head. “Please, no. Don’t tell me.”
    He was amused, not at all concerned that my parents had spoken to him about our sex life. “They just wanted to make sure I wasn’t taking advantage of your situation, and that we were, you know, being careful. They know you want to go to college, and they didn’t want me screwing that up.”
    I covered my face with both hands.
    “Do you want to know what Sam said to me?”
    I shook my head. “Not really, no.”
    “He said”—Weston lowered his voice to mimic Sam’s—“‘if you’re not going to marry her, then keep your hands off another man’s future.’”
    “Oh. Wow. Stop.”
    “So I said, ‘Fine. Do I have your blessing to ask her?’”
    “That’s not funny.”
    Weston busted out laughing. “He said, ‘ No !’” He shook his head and flung his arms, imitating a very flustered Sam. “I was just messing with him.”
    I squinted one eye. “Please tell me you didn’t admit anything.”
    “I did. I confirmed.”
    I hung my head. “That we were having sex? Or that we’re using protection? I’m guessing both?”
    “Correct.”
    I stood up and dressed. Weston didn’t seem happy