Page 6

And I hold hers for another beat, and another, my skin suddenly feeling two sizes too tight.

Even from several feet away, I feel the heat passing between us.

I tell myself I’m imagining it. Sally doesn’t want me that way. She’s too smart. Too ambitious. Small-town cowboys don’t turn her on.

I blame the grief and the alcohol for all the mixed-up shit happening inside me right now.

Her eyes finally flick to the gold chain on my chest. She frowns. “Is that?—”

“Mom’s ring. Yeah.” I reach up and poke my pinkie through the circlet of gold. It’s so small it doesn’t even get past my first knuckle. “I liked—I needed—I had to keep her close. Sounds weird?—”

“It’s not weird. It’s sweet.” Sally’s throat works on a swallow.

Of course she’d say that.

Of course she’d understand.

I’m more than a little self-conscious as I head for the rope swing dangling from a tree on the top of the bluff. I quicklytoe off my shoes and lose my jeans so that I’m wearing only my boxers.

Then I grab the rope, step back, and take a running leap over the edge.

My heart thunders inside my chest as I swing out over the water. The familiar way my stomach dips has me laughing and hollering like an idiot. I hear Sally laugh, too, right before I let go of the rope and drop into the river.

The water hits me in a cold, bracing rush. I’m instantly alive, reveling in the pleasure of spreading my arms and legs and justbeing. I float in a starfish pose for several heartbeats and let myself sink, the chain around my neck catching on my lips.

Down here, it’s just me and my heartbeat. No hollowed-out numbness. No pain. No thought other than,this feels good.

When my lungs start to burn, I kick up to the surface. I shake my hair out of my eyes. The sun has set, but the blue tinge in the air still glows with subtle light.

I immediately look for Sally up on the bluff, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“You coming?” I shout. “Water is perfect.”

“Close your eyes,” she shouts back.

I notice the rope is pulled taut toward the bank. She must’ve grabbed it, and now she’s waiting her turn to take the leap.

Did she strip too? Or did she do the smart thing—she always does the smart thing—and keep her clothes on?

“They’re closed,” I lie.

“You promise?”

“No.”

“Wyatt.”

“All right, all right.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “They’re closed.”

A moment of silence. Then a high, happy shout, a sound that hits me square in the chest.

Can’t help it. I open my eyes and see Sally falling through the air, her face split into a smile.

My stomach seizes when I see she’s only in panties and a bra.

They’re white. Innocent-looking enough.

But then she turns a little, and I see the curve of her ass cheek.