He scanned me, looking for cracks in my façade.

Finally, he relented, pushing back from the wall. I felt the loss of him everywhere.

“If I stop bringing attention to your ass, are you going to go back to being relatively sane?”

“I am sane.”

“Debatable.”

“Tell me one thing that’s insane about me.”

“You wear hoodies when it’s a hundred and twelve degrees out, you’re nurturing an unhealthy obsession with the nineties, you think you’re unattractive, you br—”

“Okay. Fine, I get it. I said one.”

He tucked a candy stick between his straight teeth, smiling like the Devil.

“I’m a competitive bastard. Once I start, it’s hard to stop. Truce?” He offered me his pinky.

All I could think about was him kissing Melanie roughly as he’d unbuttoned her jeans, my nickname falling from his lips. My own lips stung, but I curled my pinky in his, almost laughing at how large his finger was against mine. It was the second time we’d done that. I liked that we had a thing.

“Ready to bail?” He nudged me.

“Bail where?”

“Austin. I just got a text from Karlie that the truck broke down and we don’t have a shift. My schedule’s wide open.”

I frowned and checked my phone. Sure enough, I had the same text. Still, spending time with West outside work? That would be a big fat no with never-and-ever on top.

“No can do. I have rehearsals back-to-back.”

“I don’t know how to break it to you, but nothing is going to salvage this play. It’s the worst thing to happen to Texas since the Jonas Brothers.” West made an adorable face, a cross between genuinely sorry and sarcastic.

“Don’t you dare hate on the Jonas Brothers. They’re a national treasure.” I wagged my finger at him, a giggle bubbling from my throat.

“That’s a plot twist.” He snatched my finger, tugging me toward him. “I pegged you for a My Bloody Valentine type of girl.”

“I do know bands that were formed after the nineties,” I protested.

“Prove it. But before that, let’s hit the road.”

With everything going on, it would be nice to unwind and take the day off. Besides, I’d already decided I wasn’t going to fall in love with West St. Claire, and I’d been massively successful in not remotely liking guys before him.

What was the harm in one short trip to the city?

“You’re twistin’ my arm here.” I sighed.

“I’ve been known for helping women discover their flexibility.”

I scrunched my nose and shoved him away, savoring the hardness of his chest against my palm.

“Gross. I’ll bring my backpack.”

“Nuh-uh. I don’t trust you to come back, and Cruz Finlay is one distraction away from a stroke. I’ll fetch it.”

He marched into the auditorium, returning with my backpack. He hoisted it over his shoulder as he flipped his keyring around his finger. I bounced on the balls of my feet, catching his long stride.

“Skipping. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you are the h-word.” He grinned.

“High?” I asked, still skipping to my displeasure.

Just stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.

He laughed, slanting his gaze sideways, watching me. “No, doofus. Happy.”

“I ain’t happy.”

“The shit-eating grin on your face begs to differ.” He flicked my chin.

“You’re rude.”

“You’re glowing.”

I threw my hair over my shoulder, feeling unexpectedly pretty. My heart swelled, like it was soaked in water, and my whole body tingled.

“Fuuuuuck,” he drawled. “The sheer joy. Who even are you? Have I been catfished?” He stopped, picking me up from the floor and turning me sideways. He frowned, pretending to read something on my back. Instructions or a manual. He whistled. I kicked the air until he let me down, my giggles rolling out of my mouth uncontrollably.

We were doing a lot of touching—more touching than I’d done in the last four years, in fact—and the butterflies in my stomach were swirling and cartwheeling nonstop.

“Yup. You’re the real Texas. I got the 2.0 version. Are you water-resistant?”

“Not at this time.”

“Shame. I bet you’re a sight in a two-piece.”

“You’re about to be cut into twenty pieces if you keep it up.”

I felt like I was my old self again, and I didn’t know why, but I thought he felt the same about himself, too.

That for some reason, we brought out in each other the previous people that we were and missed terribly.

We stopped by his Ducati. He took out two helmets, shoving one into my hands. This time, I turned around, ditched my ball cap, and put it on dutifully.

“Two helmets?” I turned back to face him when my helmet was on.

He shrugged. “Knew I was going to thaw your frigid ass.”

“Are you always so confident?”

“Every second of the day.” He spat out the apple candy in his mouth, putting his helmet on. “Are you always so nosy?”

“When I’m interested in something enough to explore it.” I raised one shoulder. “While we’re on the subject of my being nosy—what’s with the apple candy? A bit dated, ain’t it?”

“Not for me. Don’t you have something that’s nostalgic to you? A piece of your history that’s close to your heart?”

Without meaning to, I brushed my fingers over my flame ring, feeling my throat working.

“I do, actually. This flame ring”—I lifted my hand—“belonged to my mom.”

“It’s …” He took my small, soft hand in his big, rough one, examining it. “Hideous. Anyway, the apple candy is it for me.”

Feeling frisky, I grabbed one of them from his back pocket, where I knew he stashed them, and stuck it into my mouth under the helmet.

“It’s … tasteless.”

So tasteless, in fact, that I wondered what had him coming back to this specific candy, over and over again. Of course, if he wanted me to know, he’d volunteer the information.

West grinned, giving a lazy shake of his head.

I waited for him to mount the motorcycle then hopped behind him. He brought my arms to clasp his pecs. The engine roared to life. We zipped through the highway, bypassing a traffic jam, the dessert wind licking at our bodies. I pressed against him, inhaling as much as I could of him. I loved wearing a helmet. It covered my face completely, giving the illusion I could be anyone. When I was like this, draped over a gorgeous man, my long blonde hair twirling, and all people could see was my body, it looked like I was normal. Just another girl going about her day.

No one could guess that my body and face were scarred.

That my grandmomma was sick.

That I was going to fail my semester this year.

The whole time, West’s phone was vibrating in his pocket. I could feel it against my inner thigh. But I didn’t want to chance ruining the moment by asking who it was.

We got to 2nd Street District, grabbed iced coffee, and walked around for a little while. The streets were crowded, booming with college kids and shoppers and blossoming flowerpots; light-decorated trees lined everywhere. The coffee shops poured with chattering youth. We talked about school and Friday night fights, and about my acting when West stopped dead on the curb and yanked my hoodie sleeve, causing a human traffic jam behind us.