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She leaves, descending the stairs, and I stand there frozen for a minute. Hawke isn’t my boyfriend.

We’re not dating, and we’re not falling in love.

I should’ve just told her that, so she knows I’m not losing anything.

But for some reason, I don’t want her to know all that.

I follow her out, seeing her on the grass, T-shirt gone and tanned body playing in the sun as water balloons fly in the air among her and her friends.

Water splashes, and she laughs before they notice me.

They exchange looks, whispers, and I feel like my clothes are ten times too big or wrong or…

“Aro?” Hawke says.

I look up to see him on the motorcycle.

He holds his helmet in his hands, his gaze flashing between them and me. “Get on the bike,” he says.

I stand there.

Why did he bring me with him? I could’ve stayed at the hideout. Why’s he showing me all this?

He stares at me, and I know he knows where my head is going. He gets off the bike, I back up, and he grabs me, pulling me into him. His lips press into my forehead. “Let’s go,” he whispers.

A lump stretches my throat, but when I look ahead all I see is his chest. A white T-shirt of the softest fabric, and a chest I’ve kissed nearly every inch of.

I let him take my arm and pull me back to the bike, both of us climbing on.

I put on the helmet, wrapping my arms around him, and I’m not even tempted to look at her as we drive off, speeding down the highway.

She’ll get him in a couple of weeks when they’re alone at school together, but for now, I just want to enjoy a few more minutes. A few more days.

Hawke hits the brakes, coming to a stoplight, and I only hesitate a second. “I don’t want you talking to her while we’re messing around,” I tell him. “It’ll make me feel bad.”

He turns his head just a little, and I feel stupid for asking this, but he’ll be hers soon enough.

“It’ll feel like I’m not important,” I say. “I know I’m not your girlfriend, but we’re friends, right?”

He nods, so quiet. What is he thinking?

“Just not while we’re doing whatever we’re doing, okay?”

“Okay.” There’s a crack in his voice, but it still sounds firm.

The light turns, and he puts his foot on the rest.

“Aren’t you going to tell me not to mess around with other guys?” I ask, holding him close.

He revs the engine. “I already know you won’t.”

He speeds off, the bike jerks, and I tighten my arms, whispering, “Because you know you’re the one I like.”

Great.

I gave it all away right off the bat, didn’t I?

Hawke

“What are we doing here?” Aro asks.

I take her helmet and mine, leading her past Madoc’s front door, to the side of the house. Less people will see us if we go through the kitchen.

“Kade’s having a pool party,” I tell her, opening the door. “Want to go?”

She steps into the mayor’s house, and I set the helmets aside, taking her hand and walking her up the stairs.

“You’ll really have to explain to me some day how your rules only apply to everyone else,” she grumbles.

I grin to myself. She’s got a point. The difference is I trust me. I don’t trust anyone else with me. If she goes out and puts my safety in danger, that’s a chance I’m not willing to take.

“Weston knows about the party,” I explain. “Green Street knows about it. If there’s action, I need to be here.”

Kade broadcasts every fart on social media, and if he doesn’t, someone else will. Pirates can’t have a senior party without it being public knowledge.

We head down the hallway, her hand in mine, and I resist the temptation to tighten my hold. Her skin is soft. Her hand slender. It feels good in mine.

“But they’re your friends and family,” she points out as we approach the last guest room on the right. “They might not turn you in, but they’ll turn me in.”

“No one will recognize you when I’m done with you,” Dylan says.

We both stop at the doorway as she stands there dressed in some gray swim shorts and a blue-and-white-striped bikini top. She grabs Aro’s hand and pulls her into the room.

“My palette is a little different,” she says, pushing Aro down into a seat at the vanity and taking out a square case, “but we’ll make do.”

She opens the container, picks out a brush, and I spot a bag sitting on the bed, hopefully filled with suits for Aro to try.

Dylan pulls off Aro’s hat and leans in with the makeup.

But Aro grabs it from her. “I know how to apply eye shadow, thank you.” Then she arches a brow and glares at me. “I don’t want to swim.”