Page 43 of Ly to Me (Devils of Alliston Springs #1)

TEN YEARS AGO

It was prom night.

The night when Carver was supposed to pick me up and take me straight to the dance.

Instead, I found myself standing next to him on his front porch, waiting for his mom to find the camera while trying my hardest not to twist a hole into my dress.

“Relax, sweetheart,” Car whispered as he snaked his arm around my back, making a familiar warmth spread along my side.

I released the light blue, satin fabric and quickly smoothed it down. He’d bought it for me, and here I was, destroyin’ it. “Shit, I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“It’s not ruined. Here, let me.” His knee hit the floorboards, not seeming to care about dirtying the black tux he was wearing that had been perfectly tailored to his build. I stared down at him in pure fascination as he smoothed his palm over the slightly wrinkled dress.

“Now there’s a picture!” His mom damn near squealed as a camera flashed. I was pretty sure that photo would look as good as that sayin’ about a deer caught in headlights. Maybe if I was a deer, I could run off the porch and hide away before she’d see how red my face had turned.

“Mom,” Carver groaned and hung his head. His shoulders shook with laughter that pulled my attention back to him. As he stood, he kept his hand on my waist, then bent down to whisper in my ear, “Figures our first picture together is me on my knees for you.”

Screw being a deer. I wanted to turn into the smallest thing possible and fly away, because I was certain a slight moan slipped from my lips at his words.

It had been only a few days since we lost our virginities to each other, but since that night, we hadn’t really stopped.

Thank-fucking-everything Chet was out on some bender somewhere, and Carver’s parents were either very lenient or completely oblivious to their son’s newest obsession.

It was a miracle we stayed away from each other long enough to get into these fancy clothes.

Carver kissed my cheek, and his mom squealed and flashed the camera…again. I had a feeling that was her normal response to things—over the top and eccentric—and something about that made me more comfortable in her presence.

“You need to tell them when you’re takin’ a photo, dear. You’re scarin’ the poor thing,” his dad said as he walked out onto the porch.

I instinctively tensed, which Carver immediately reacted to by pulling me closer to his side, practically gluing me there.

“There’s nothin’ to be afraid of here. They’re good people,” Carver whispered against my hair, and as if on cue, his mom flashed the camera.

His dad swiped a hand down his face. “Okay. Okay. How ’bout we say ‘cheese’ and end the pictures for now, Nora?”

She snapped a few more in obvious retaliation, then blew a raspberry at her husband. I couldn’t help but laugh, and she readily snapped a few more. “Beautiful! This is perfect. Have you ever seen a more perfect couple on their prom night?”

“No, Nora, I have not. Because, as I remember it, I didn’t get to take you to prom. And that title definitely wouldn’t have gone to you and—”

“George Calloway,” they both said in unison, his dad sneering at the name while Nora practically purred it. He glared down at her, his chin angled to his chest because of their stark height difference that almost mirrored Carver’s and I’s.

“Why does your dad hate George Calloway?” I hissed over my shoulder.

Carver’s brows shot up. “Because George tried to steal mom from dad,” he said slowly, stretching the words while looking at me like I was the insane one for asking something that he seemed to think was obvious.

That’s when it clicked.

“They dated in high school?”

“Smile bigger for this one!” his mom shouted from across the porch.

We both did as we were told and his mom snapped photo after photo, then shuffled back into the house with Carver’s dad tailing right behind her as she clicked through the pictures.

Once we were alone, Carver spun me in his hold and captured my lips with his. The world blurred around us as he slid his tongue into my mouth, and for several long seconds, I forgot we were standing on his front porch.

He stopped kissing me and pressed his forehead to mine, the intensity of his look startling me.

“Car, what’s wrong?”

“If I told you they did date in high school, and got married real young, would that worry you at all?”

My face tightened in confusion. “I don’t understand why that would worry me. Am I missin’ something?”

He caressed my cheek, and as he pulled back, I could see just how severe his face had turned.

It reminded me of the first few weeks when we started seeing each other, and I’d watch him practice his drills in the field with the rest of his JROTC classmates.

He had a level of focus that was fitting for the Marines—intense and full of determination.

In a blink, it was gone. “It’s nothin’, Ly. Nevermind.”

The last time he told me it was nothin’, it definitely wasn’t that. But I shrugged it off and chalked it up to him being nervous about me meeting his parents.

Which I hadn’t officially done just yet.

“Wanna go inside for a bit? We have time.” His hand settled over mine, which had gone back to twisting the fabric along my side.

“Yeah, um…yeah. Yeah, that would be great.”

“That’s a lot of ‘yeahs.’” Gentle fingers swept beneath my chin, pulling my focus back to him from where it had lingered off to through the window. “You know, the last girl I took to prom has no evidence of it.”

“What girl ?”

He chuckled. “Harper Fuentes.” As he tucked a few strands of hair back from my face, I wondered if Harper Fuentes had a stylish up-do for their date, or if she was poor like me and had left it down and natural with only a butterfly clip holding half of it back.

No, she probably wasn’t a butterfly freak like you, Lyra.

“Wherever you just went in your head was fucking hot.”

I scowled and flipped him the bird. He laughed and made a playful don’t hurt me gesture with his hands.

“And where is Harper Fuentes now?” I asked.

He shrugged. “She was a senior, so I have no clue. Didn’t feel like keepin’ in touch after she sent dinner back four times and complained that I stepped on her feet, when really she was the one who couldn’t dance.”

I snorted at the imagery, then rolled my eyes as he pulled me into his arms, sliding them down to settle right around my waist.

“You have nothing to worry about in that department,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

His brows lowered. “You know there’s only ever going to be you for me, right?”

My heart stopped at the words I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly.

Did he mean forever, or for now? I didn’t have anyone in my life who was forever.

Forever meant accepting the other person’s flaws even if they changed.

Forever meant knowing someone just as well as you knew yourself.

We couldn’t be forever because his life was already perfect, and filling it with all my flaws wouldn’t be fair.

I tried to stop running that word through my head, forever , because he hadn’t said that. He said ‘ only ever,’ which was different.

Kind of.

Car’s fingers trailed up my back, and those thoughts vanished, making me nod against his chest.

Here and now was good enough.

Prom started an hour ago, and neither Car nor I had done anything to leave. He gave me a few looks while checking the time, telling me with no words—just glances and slight shoulder shrugs—that anything we did was up to me.

It took me seventeen years and 334 days to feel pure happiness in a home.

It was still hard to picture that people could be as happy as his parents were.

His dad made light jokes and conversation while we sat at a table right outside the kitchen, and his mother shouted back her responses, which were more jibes at his dad than anything else.

Each time she jibed back at him, he smiled. She wasn’t even looking half the time because she was busy cooking something that smelled way too good to exist, but still—he smiled and looked back at her like…

Like Carver looked at me.

The similarities between him and his dad were startling, and if I narrowed my eyes, I could almost picture Carver as a matured man. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t picture myself in Nora’s position. She was too kind, too upbeat, and too carefree for me to fill the shoes of.

Carver’s dad checked his watch, then whistled and glanced between his son and me. “Don’t you two need to get goin’? It’s getting late.”

Carver gave me one quick look, then shook his head. Whatever he saw on my face prompted him to say, “I think we might be skippin’ the first half.”

A smile touched my lips, or maybe it had been there since I’d walked in and officially met Nora and Calvin.

His dad bobbed his head. “Well, I’ve got something we can all do.” He leaned behind him and pulled up a metal box, then set it on the table.

“Dad,” Carver warned.

“Don’t ‘dad’ me, young man. I bet your girlfriend would love to play some poker while we wait for dinner, since you’re skippin’ yours and all.”

“Poker?” I asked, cocking my head while looking at the metallic box.

“My dad plays poker once a week with a few of his friends. He’s convinced it’s a tradition I’ll carry on when I grow up and have a family of my own.” Pinpricks flooded my arms at the way he’d mentioned a family while looking at me like—

No .

Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Ly, stop thinking you’re better than the gutter you live in.

Forever and a family was too much for one night.

I took a sip of my water, shifting my attention to the sliding glass door that led out to the back porch.