Rocks crunch under slowing tires, truck shifts into park, a seatbelt clicks.

I look over at Logan. He twists in his seat to face me, a smile set on his face. “So, I had fun.”

I match his grin. “Me too.”

“What are your plans for tomorrow? I’d like to hang out with you again. Like around five, since that’s when my shift ends. It’s not like I have a far drive to pick you up or anything.”

Laughing, I unbuckle my seatbelt, eyes still on him. “Well, if you were paying any attention over the past three hours, you’d remember that I have no life since I don’t work or go to school. So yeah, my plans for tomorrow will probably be sitting by the pool or hanging in my room, watching awful reality television.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Yikes. Bad reality TV is a waste of life if you ask me. Why do that when you can be doing something much more fun?”

“As in?”

“As in hanging out with me tomorrow. Same time. What do you say?”

I hold back a smile. “I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” God, he’s so damn good-looking.

I tear my stare away, my eyes focusing on a small photo hanging from the rearview mirror. I didn’t see it before. Then again, I wasn’t really paying attention. I reach out and grab it, leaning in to have a better look. It’s a picture of a younger Logan with his arms posed wide open and a big goofball grin on his face. I can tell it’s him. He looks slimmer and shorter, but it’s definitely him with those same vibrant blue eyes. Beside him, posing the exact same way, is a guy a bit taller and more muscular than Logan. The unknown guy is wearing a Phillies baseball cap—an exact replica of Logan’s. “Who’s that?” I ask, pointing at the guy in the picture.

“That’s my brother, Sean, wearing his favorite stupid hat.” My stomach sinks. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I feel like an ass. Pushing down my fear of making a fool out of myself, I look back at Logan. His smile is still there, just a bit wider. Reaching up, he tugs the rim of the cap. “Which is now my favorite,” he adds.

“I…um…shit…” I shut my eyes, breathe in and out, then flash them open. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

Logan chuckles, a low rumble deep within his chest. “It’s fine. Seriously. I didn’t get offended. Most people would, but I’m not like most people.”

“No. You’re certainly not.” I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the humiliation of the moment. “If it were me, I’d probably punch you in the face.”

He laughs again. “I kind of get the feeling you’re not kidding.”

“No. Not when it comes to something personal like that. To others it may seem like it’s just an item, nothing special, but it’s a keepsake for you. You know?” He nods. “I had a bracelet Brooke had given me as a graduation gift. I lost it the night you found me in the pool.”

“Is that what you were freaking out about?”

“Yes. It’s something I never left home without, and losing it was like losing a piece of her.”

Logan’s forehead creases in confusion. “Wait. Was it some type of gold charm bracelet or something like that?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Santino found one by the pool when we were prepping on our first day. He gave it to your mother.”

“What?” My hands grip the dashboard so hard my knuckles turn white.

Logan looks nervous—or scared. I have no idea how I look right now, but I’m sure I look like I’m about to beat someone with a bat. “Yeah, your mother thanked Santino for bringing it to her and took off with it.”

Red. All I see is red. I jump out of the truck and slam the car door.

“Jenna?” Logan shouts out, but I keep going. My legs have a mind of their own. I have no idea how they’re moving, how they’re pushing, because my head is empty. Completely deserted. There are no thoughts whatsoever, just one image I keep seeing over and over again: my mother’s face.

Trembling, I open the door and dart into the house. My chest is heaving, my heart beating wildly, but my mind is clear.

Voices. Familiar voices from the office. I don’t hesitate. I move toward them, smoothly gliding across the marble foyer, yanking the knob, and pushing the door open. My mother jumps, turning to face the entryway I just barreled through. My father’s wary features shoot my way, studying me: my rigid posture, my hands opening and closing into tight fists at my side, my tense shoulders, and finally my bloodshot eyes, which are fixed and zooming in on her. The bitch.

“Where is it?” I threaten more than ask.

Mom seems startled by my approach. “Where is what, darling?”

“Fuck off, Mother!”

“Jenna!” Dad shouts.

Ignoring him, I move toward her aggressively. She steps back, afraid of what I might do. “The bracelet. Give me my bracelet. It’s mine, not yours. Brooke gave it to me. Where is it?” I scream.

She brings a hand to her chest. “This is ludicrous. You’re acting—”

“Give. It. To. Me.”

“Where is the bracelet, Laura?” Dad demands.

Her appalled, open-mouthed, and wide-eyed expression leaves me and lands on him. “Do you think I would keep it from her on purpose? Gregory, I would never do such a thing—”

“Do you or do you not have the bracelet, Laura?” he cuts in.

Wetting her lips, she moves her head side-to-side, staring at me, then him, then me again. Without another word, she walks over to the large bookcase. Removing a small trinket box, she opens the lid and lifts my bracelet out. I don’t give her time to bring it to me. I stomp over, snatch it from her hand, and storm out of the office.

I hate her more than ever.

* * *

“I can’t believe your mother did that. I’m sorry, but that was a shit move on her end,” Charlie says, fanning a hand over her damp, heart-shaped face.

I lean back against the lounge chair. The sun is brutally hot today, but I allow it to beam off my skin as I lie with my eyes shut. “Yep. She doesn’t matter anymore; I have my bracelet and, quite honestly, that’s all that matters,” I say, reaching for my right hand and allowing my fingers to smooth over the gold chain, now perfectly snugged around my wrist.

Last night I could hear Mom and Dad arguing but couldn’t make out all of it. I did hear my name thrown in a few times, and on any other day I would have eavesdropped, but last night I didn’t bother. I had my bracelet and I was too upset with my mother to even want to hear what she had to say about me. I know one thing, I’m really glad Dad cancelled that spa appointment he had scheduled for Mom and me. I didn’t want to go initially, but after the bracelet fiasco, there wasn’t a chance in hell.

“Yeah. Thank God,” she says. “What the hell? It’s hot as balls out. I’m taking a dip in the pool. Want to go in with me?”

“Sure.” I lift onto my elbows. “It’s too hot to even sunbathe.”

We stand, tread to the pool, and dip in, allowing the warm, refreshing water to swallow us up. Charlie swims to the corner at the shallow end of the pool, which has a built-in bench. Sitting down, she bends her head back on the edge and closes her eyes. I follow, making myself comfortable beside her, our seats in clear view of the Reed Construction guys working on the guesthouse.

“What was the sigh for?” Charlie asks.

“Huh? Did I sigh?”

“Yep. A big ole dramatic one too.” Her eyes flash open. Staring straight ahead, it doesn’t take her long to realize the reason—or should I say the person—that prompted my sigh. “Logan looks good…”

“I guess?” My eyes study him from this distance. The Phillies cap is on his head, white earphones are plugged into his ears, and his golden tan is glistening in the sun. “Mmmhmm. I see where your line of vision is. Do you see that male goodness from afar?” Charlie sits up and goes on dramatically, “Are you admiring those fine-tuned, muscular arms? That glorious, gleaming golden tan? The beads of sweat dripping ever so softly from his rock-hard body? The way the veins of his biceps pop out when he flexes? His rough-worn jeans hanging low on his sculpted hips, leaving you to imagine what’s waiting just a little bit lower? Ooooh, that was some descriptive shit right there. I should be a writer.”

I roll my eyes. She is so over-the-top. But I must admit, she’s right. What is happening to me?

Charlie fans herself, dipping her head back into the water. “Damn, I made myself hot with that scene. You know you were turned on. I can just see it now.” She spreads her arms wide. “Charlie Murphy, erotica novelist, making pussies twerk nationwide. RPD, bitches.”

“You’re ridiculous,” I say, splashing water her way.

Charlie shrugs. “Oops. Hottie coming our way.”

I turn, and… Yep, Logan is heading toward us. Straightening my shoulders, I sit up, watching as he approaches.

Logan reaches the edge of the pool, bends at the knees, and meets us at eye level. “Ladies,” he says with a smile.

“Logan.” I match his grin.

“Hottie McHotterson.” Charlie beams.

Logan squints his eyes at Charlie, uncertain as to how to handle her. I’m sure no one knows how to handle her. Then he looks at me. “Have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?” Charlie interjects.

Logan answers, “Going out with me tonight. My shift is over in an hour and I figured I’d ask now so you can get ready. Or you can go in your bikini. Either way is good with me.”

Charlie’s lips curl into a devious grin. “Ah, going out, huh? Yeah, she’s going.” I go to speak, but she lifts her hand, stopping me before I can start. “Go and get ready, Jenna. I’ll keep Logan occupied. So, Logan, let me tell you about this book I want to write.”

“You write?” he asks, amused.

“Yep. And I can come up with some pretty damn steamy scenes. I’m thinking of writing an erotic—”

I grip her arm. “Yes, Logan. I’ll go out tonight. I’m going to start getting ready. Charlie, come help me find something to wear.”

“Oh,” Charlie says, shocked that I’m actually asking for fashion feedback. But I’ll do anything to keep her from embarrassing herself. Who am I kidding? I’ll do anything to keep her from embarrassing me. “All right. See ya, Logan.” She winks at him.

Logan smiles, and his eyes find mine. “Cool. See you in an hour.”

I nod, twist my body beneath the water, and lift myself out of the pool. Turning, I bend down, yank on Charlie’s arm, and pull her out.

* * *

We’re in my walk-in closet, and I’m seated in a chair with a towel wrapped around my chest. My hair’s dripping water down my back as I watch Charlie rummage through my closet. Her features vacillate between shock and distress regarding the news I just told her. “Wait a minute. The two of you went out? Why am I just hearing about this?” she asks, skimming through the hangers.

“Because it happened out of left field. Besides, it was just a friendly get-together.”

“You decided to mention Mommy Dearest stealing the bracelet, but you left out the fact that you were on a date with Mr. McHotterson?”

“Not a date,” I huff.

“Whatever. So where did you guys go?”

I pick the skin at my lip as my eyes roam over my clothing. Though there’s plenty to choose from, I feel like I have nothing to wear, which is completely unlike me. Any other day I couldn’t care less about what to wear. But I keep shaking my head no to all of Charlie’s suggestions so far. “We went for ice cream, then the park.”

“Are you kidding me?” Her hand stops midstroke on a sundress, and she turns to face me.

“What?” I ask, unsure of the reason behind her wrinkled nose.

“Ice cream and the park?” I confirm with a nod. “What are you guys, like five?”

Rolling my eyes, I shift in the seat and cross my legs. “Whatever. I think he was sweet and we had fun. I had an amazing time…” I trail off with a smile, thinking about last night. Logan was the perfect gentleman.

“All right, then,” Charlie says, mockingly. “Well, I guess no dress for you, since he might surprise you and take your ass to BounceU.”

Funny thing is, after witnessing Logan and how goofy he can be with just a set of monkey bars, I’m sure BounceU would be right up his alley. “There’d be nothing wrong with us acting like big kids, jumping around in inflatable bounce houses.”

Charlie coughs out a laugh. It’s one of those incredulous laughs, one that lets me know she’s humoring me. She knows that is not my scene, but maybe it could be. With Logan it could be.

“Wear this.” Both of her arms jut out, a pair of white skinny jeans dangling from one hand, and a teal strapless blouse from the other. “It’s cute, yet comfortable. What do you say?”