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“You can’t do that!”

“I just did. I’ll give them to Chelsea to give back to you.”

While she huffed, I tipped my head at Chelsea. “I’m right over there.”

My truck, with its Reilly and Sons logo on the back, was up on the other side of the street.

Chelsea studied me, and for the briefest flash, the saddest expression I’d ever seen passed over her, darkening her eyes. Then it was gone, so quickly I was sure I imagined it. She sighed. “I’ll see you later, Mia,” she said.

I had to help Chelsea up into my truck’s cab by grasping her by the ribcage. She was warm under my touch; her tank top slipping slightly so my hands brushed her skin. She laughed like I’d tickled her.

God fucking help me.

Once I was in the truck myself, I had to lean over to help her with her seatbelt. The scent she was wearing was some kind of tropical fruity coconut thing.

I tried to ignore both those things, focusing on getting the truck started so I could get my best friend’s sister home.

“You alright?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm,” she said. She leaned herself against the door of the pickup and stared at me as I pulled into the lane.

Heat crawled up my neck.

Just get her home. That’s all you have to do, buddy.It was a quick drive to the Rolling Hills resort from downtown. I just had to get back onto the main drag, then follow it up and around to the Quince River bridge, then up the hill, and bam, this would all be over.

“You’re a good guy, aren’t you, Seamus? You’ve always been a good guy. So quiet, too. Must be hard being around Eli. He has an opinion on everything.”

“I have opinions,” I said. “I just don’t need to tell everyone about them all the time.”

“Oh, so Eli annoys you too?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Eli was opinionated. But I liked that about my best friend. He wasn’t afraid to say what he thought. Unlike other people who trampled over me because I didn’t say whatever was on my mind all the time, he listened to me, gave me a chance to share mine if I wanted to. Anyway, why was she talking about me? I didn’t like talking about myself.

“How come you’re out partying so much, Chelsea?” I asked.

At this, she scowled. “Who says I’m partying so much?”

“Everyone.”

“Eli hasn’t exactly been keeping on the straight and narrow.”

“He got divorced. Then his—”

I was going to say his mom passed, but of course her mom passed too.

If Chelsea knew what I was going to say, she didn’t show it.

“I’d just rather be out than sitting at home.”

“Funny, I’d rather be at home than going out.”

“I don’t like being alone.”

“And I don’t like being around people.” Not all people, anyway. I wasn’t a misanthrope, I just preferred silence. Peace and quiet. Hard work. Reading a book.

Thinking about Chelsea.