She laughs against my skin. “Maybe you forgot what my last name is, but I love a challenge. And I promise. You won’t even hear me until I’m standing right behind you.”

Tingles spread up my spine, wanting time to slow down but excited for next weekend to get here. She’ll have to chase me, but I look forward to when she catches me.

Spreading open my jacket, she sucks on my nipple, but then I remember something else and grab my phone.

“Wait.” I stop her, bringing up the screenshot I took from something online. “Can we do this?”

I show her the pic of a splendid new position I want to try, and her eyes go wide. “Jesus, Clay…”

And I laugh as she covers my mouth with hers, groaning like I’m driving her insane.

• • •

The next morning, I stand with Liv in front of the school, under the tree as everyone exits cars and heads for the doors. I know people are looking, but I only stare at her hand in mine.

“You ready?” she asks quietly.

“They all already know.” I caress her fingers. “At least there’s that.”

She pulls me along, both of us making our way down the sidewalk as eyes turn and voices quiet, the stairs to the doors looming above.

“They’ll look,” she assures me, squeezing my hand. “They’ll talk. But every time they do, just remember they’re not feeling this.”

We climb the stairs, and I stop, my heart thumping, but it’s more because I’m excited for people to know I love her than dreading the pushback.

“Don’t worry,” I say, leaning in close and making no effort to hide my arm wrapping around her waist. “I’ll never not want to feel this.”

I’ll never let anyone else cost me what I love most in the world.

And we walk into school together.

One Month Later

CLAY RUNS PAST me, and I start to charge her with my stick, but I stop, giving up. “You want to tell me why we’re still practicing?” I shout as the team races around us. “Season’s over.”

She spins, running backward as she speaks. “We still have incoming freshmen to train this summer.”

“And why did I agree to that?”

“Because you do everything I say.”

She winks, a wicked smile spreading across her face, and a jolt hits my heart the way it always does at the sight of her.

“Actually, she promised you a massage,” Krisjen adds, jogging past me.

Followed by Chloe. “A full body one.”

Oh, yeah. Now I remember. She caught me at a weak moment.

Girls run back and forth, Clay saving the ball from the goal, and I think she’s going to miss this. Being captain, she told me, has been one of the best parts of high school, because she got to spend time with me.

I remember it a little differently. Body slams and extra workouts and her always hogging the ball. But she sure is trying to make up for it. She kept her word. She has been so pleasant.

I swoop in front of her as she charges toward me and flings the ball off to Krisjen just as Clay pushes me to the ground. She lands on top of me, smiling, but I roll us over.

I stare down at her. “I’m not sure I wouldn’t rather just spend it on the beach, instead.” I tell her. “Hell, I’d rather be on an air boat with Trace, gator hunting this summer, than sweating my ass off on this field one more second.”

“Why were you ever on the team?” she fires back, because she knows this is the last thing I want to be doing with my time.

But we both know exactly why I put up with this shit for so long, and it wasn’t because athletics looked good on my college applications.

I cock an amused eyebrow, smirking a little.

She smiles like she didn’t already know I was always here for her.

“And gator hunting doesn’t start until August,” she says.

“And he’s not hunting. Is that what he tells you?” Krisjen pants next to us. “He just feeds them marshmallows and then we sneak onto Mark Chamberlain’s house boat, drink his beer, and have sex.”

I groan, rolling off Clay. “Too much information, Krisjen.”

I rise, pulling Clay up after me, and notice blood on her knee. She’s wearing pants to prom, otherwise she’d be pissed about a scraped knee. I’m wearing a dress again, but this time it’s thin silk, tight, and there won’t be a stitch of underwear underneath. I enjoy making her sweat in public.

Squatting down, I take her leg and use my shirt to pat away the blood. Coos go off to my left, and I turn my head at the girls on the bench looking at me like puppy dogs as I take care of her.

I shake my head. Some people, as expected, were pricks about it all when Clay came out, but the advocates are louder, stronger, and much more vicious when they witness an injustice. Anyone who had shit to say soon found it was better to keep their stupid comments to themselves, unless they wanted to be immortalized on the internet forever.

If anyone wasn’t a friend, they were at least quiet.

Callum has never made eye contact again. It’s almost as if we don’t exist at school. He never appears without a girl wrapped around him, and I’m not sure who he’s trying to convince that he’s living his best life—us or himself—but the bruises Dallas gave him that night have healed, and Callum behaves like nothing ever happened.

We stay out of his way. He stays out of ours. For now.

Milo mysteriously left school following Fox Hill. We’d see him around town here and there, but no matter how many times I ask Clay about it, she denies playing any role in having him finish the school year from home instead of anywhere near me.

Not that I don’t appreciate her throwing her weight around to protect me. Her mother’s help to protect the lighthouse—and essentially Sanoa Bay—worked like magic, after all. Her grandmother fought us on it, but her father backed off surprisingly quickly, even though he was one of the people who lost when the development deal fell through. I think he just lost the energy to do anything else that might make his family any more unhappy.

“What are you all doing here?” I hear someone exclaim.

We look up, seeing the coach in a sundress with her glasses pushed up on top of her head. She looks like she was passing by on her way back from the beach.

“I have no idea,” I tell her, shooting Clay a look.

Coomer checks her phone. “Prom is in four hours, Clay!”

Everyone looks to Clay, my devious angel feigning innocence.

“All right, we’re going,” she laughs. “See y’all tonight! Get out of here!”

“Whooo!” a unanimous howl sounds.

Everyone grabs their gear, thunder cracking across the sky, and I rise, pulling Clay in for a kiss now that everyone is clearing out.

Her hands immediately go to my face, and I’m trying not to count the days left, but it’s always in the forefront of my mind.

“Come on.” She takes my hand. “Hair, makeup…”

“Shower,” I tell her, implying all good things start there.

“I’ll be at your house in an hour,” Krisjen says to Clay.

“Okay.”

We put away our gear and take our bags, and I notice Amy sitting on the benches, packing up her stuff. Alone.