Page 67 of Between the Lines

I’ll wait until Caden’s inside the garage, then I’ll take Daisy on a little walk around the property. She likes to see the flowers and collect acorns.

I set Daisy down, and she takes off after Hamburger. I use the moment to load the dishwasher, but I can’t help but sneak one more tiny look out the window at the man who holds my future, and as of last night . . . my ass?

He glistens in the sun with his hair shoved back off his face, squatting down to flip a tractor tire, every muscle bulging under his sun-kissed skin. My own core burns . . . but for entirely different reasons, and I have to peel my eyes away.

I’m not sure if this is the universe testing me, punishing me, or rewarding me.

Somehow, it feels like all three.

27

Caden

Ithink I’m dying.

I’ve been pummeled under some rough waves out on my board, my body washed to shore with bruises and cuts, but this is entirely different.

“Ah, you’ll be fine in a few hours.” Matt pats me on my drenched bare back as I’m hunched over, hands on thighs. My heart might burst, and with it, my feelings about Fia.

“Fuck, man, I asked you to push me today, but this . . .” I inhale, gasping and pointing at the enormous tire he had me flip down the entirety of my driveway.

“This was twisted,” I finish, dripping sweat, resting my hands on top of my head.

A hearty laugh sounds from Matt.

We stepped inside the garage, and I’ve never been so grateful I decided to get this place fully climate-controlled. The chill air feels like heaven as I drop onto the bench in my gym.

“So how did the interview go for the magazine?” Matt asks, wiping his sweaty hands on a towel. “You actually do it?”

I close my eyes and nod.

Matt loves the limelight. If it’d been him, he would’ve demanded a full spread just of his face.

“Yeah,” I reply, regaining my breath. “Fia actually did most of it. So I’m sure it will be great.”

I finally stand, patting my face off with a clean towel. “There’s a dinner ceremony for the awards too, but I’m not going to that.”

Matt stays quiet. Too quiet.

“You should go, man.” Matt presses his knuckles into my arm. “Stick it to your dad.”

I laugh. “The last thing my father would find impressive is a cocktail dinner.”

Matt grabs his gym bag, and I follow him back outside. But my attention is immediately pulled off into the distance. On the side of the house, where a row of hydrangeas are in full bloom, Fia tiptoes slowly behind Daisy, who is on a mission of her own. Fia’s red hair is piled loosely on her head, and wispy bangs frame her face as a blue sundress sways at her knees.

I didn’t even notice her come out . . . Must’ve happened when we stepped into the garage.

Matt follows my gaze before I can hide it.

“Can I give you some advice?” he asks, throwing his bag into the backseat of his truck.

I scoff, but shrug. “You’re going to anyway, so just say it.”

He tilts his head towards Fia. “I know you have your rules, but sometimes you have to say fuck them.”

I shake my head at my best friend as he flashes a pearly grin and hops into his pickup truck.

“Let’s hit the waves Sunday?” I ask, but Matt winces.