My hands dug at the leather of his truck seat. His hands were around my thighs, his fingers pressed into my skin. I could feel his hair brush against my leg as his mouth opened and pressed against me. There wasn’t enough air for me to breath, and once the air rushed back, I couldn’t pull it into my lungs fast enough. Jake’s kisses became rushed and needy, and after a minute or two it was just complete and total bliss. My body shook from it, and I half sat up, my teeth set against how good it felt.

I cried out in the space of the truck, alone, just me and Jake, the two of us happy and loved and loving, and I didn’t know if it was possible that life could feel better. Ever. When I finally came back to reality, I was in Jake’s arms. We sat together, silent and contented in the long, cool night until it was time for me to go back home, to go back to whatever normal life would be like after we had been so close.

Chapter Twenty-One

One week later, I was scheduled for another hair appointment. I thought it was crazy, but Mom said that since we didn’t spend anything on the second prom dress, it was a deal. Only my mother would come up with that kind of insane logic and manage to trick me into believing it all the way to the salon.

In reality, I loved the time she and I spent together. It was fun to have her fuss over me and gossip with Darlene like we were all grown women. This time my toenails were bright red, to match my dress, and so were my fingernails. It seemed a shame since my French polishes were barely chipped, but Mom just rolled her eyes when I made that point.

This time Darlene went in the complete opposite direction with my hair. She pulled the flat iron through it until it was pin straight and so shiny it shone like glass. I was going to argue that I could have straightened it at home, but when Darlene finished, I realized that I could never have worked the wonders she did. She concocted some kind of magic mixture of creams and gels and brushes, and she had done it all with half an eye on my head, chatting ninety miles an hour to my mother.

When she was done, I was slack-jawed with shock. She combed a really deep side part, and it made my whole face look different. Then she took out a red silk flower Mom brought and fixed it to a bobby pin that she slid in and reinforced with other pins so that it would hold the entire night just over my ear. My makeup was smoky and sultry. It was all very prom appropriate.

Back home, it felt a little like dйjа vu. Mom got me into my dress and zipped me up, and I stepped into the same magic silver heels. Thorsten came in to snap pictures, and finally, I heard the crunch of tires in the driveway that sent my heart skipping.

Jake!

Jake was coming to see me off. He was glad I was going, in that resigned, he’s-a-great-boyfriend-so-he’s-not-going-to-worry-at-least-to-my-face way. When he got out of the truck, I was already outside to meet him. He whistled low and long.

“Holy hell, Bren.” He stood next to the truck, immobile. “You look damn fine.”

I ran up to him as well as I could in my column of a dress. “Do you like it? It was Mom’s.”

“Damn you look hot!” He picked me up around the waist and spun me around easily. “Now, I know this is only your second prom and all, so keep in mind, the way we ended our prom night was highly out of the norm. That’s not usually what happens.” He raised his eyebrows sternly.

“I know that,” I scoffed. “It usually ends with sex on the beach, right?”

He swatted my butt affectionately. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and walked me in. “So who’s this guy again?”

“His name is Nate, and he’s very nice.” I purposefully failed to mention the ‘little crush’ portion of the date.

“Is he single?” Jake’s voice got a little low and mean.

“Yes,” I admitted. “But he knows I’m with you.”

“I’m going to stare him down,” he warned. “No contact, cause I’m not a psycho, but I am going to do a little eyeball intimidation.”

“No you’re not.” I shook a warning finger at him. “Or I’ll dirty dance with him all night to spite your overprotective ass.”

“Alright.” He sighed and pulled me aside for a few hurried kisses before we made it to the front door.

Thorsten and Mom said hello to Jake, and the air in the room was slightly uncomfortable. Mom’s idea of me ‘dating other guys’ didn’t involve Jake showing up beforehand. But I wanted him to see my dress and my hair. It was exciting, and I didn’t like for him to miss it. After a minute of chatting with my parents, I told Mom that I wanted to show Jake some of the pictures I’d put together from Paris.

“Okay.” She didn’t really attempt to disguise her reluctance. “Just remember, they’ll be here soon. You don’t want to hold the group up.”

“We’ll be fast, Mom,” I promised, dragging Jake to my room.

Once we were in, he groaned a little. “She hates me again?”

“She always hated you to some degree,” I said cheerfully. “Look.” It was a big leather scrapbook. I had filled it with black pages and did all of the pictures in black and white with a white border around them. Then I had put them in with little tabs, just like old fashioned pictures would have had.

Jake sat next to me and we opened the book. It started with Jake’s first group of pictures, plus the ones he’d taken but hadn’t put up before I called him to break up.

“They look really good.” He traced a finger along the edges.

We looked at his pictures of me in all the places that he made me go that last day before Paris. Then there were some of the pictures I’d snapped when we landed; a coffee shop at the airport, some road signs in French with the countryside a blur behind them, the view from my dorm window, fresh breads stacked in the windows of a baker’s, a stray cat in front of a fancy iron grate.

Then there were Jake’s angry pictures, including two of Nikki. Those two hurt the most, for me. She looked very posed, doing her pouty/kissy/seductive look. She was in Jake’s room. In his room. That stung hard, but I didn’t like to ignore things just because they kind of sucked. I had learned it was better to just face them, air them in the open, and keep them from being secretive and powerful.

But it still hurt to see them.

“Why would you have put those in?” Jake’s voice was a little sharp.

“Because that’s what happened when I was gone.” I glared at him. “We’re not pretending it didn’t happen, so why not have the documented evidence?”

He flipped the page and there were pictures of Saxon, his tattooed back, him standing in front of my window before we went out.

We looked through the whole thing quietly, then he closed the book and we sat together for a long minute.

“When you broke up with me, I listened to Ethan Frome,” he said quietly.

“The recording I made for you?” What could make the most depressing book in the world even more depressing? Probably listening to a recording of your ex-girlfriend read it while she’s macking it with your brother. Geez, Jake really embraced the Wharton.

He nodded.

“Why would you have wanted to hear my voice then? You didn’t even want to talk to me on the phone.” I twined my hand with his.

“I never didn’t want to hear your voice.” He rubbed my hand with his thumb. “And I did want to talk to you on the phone. But I felt bad that we’d split up, and I didn’t want to give in to you until I’d had time to think it all through. You’re reallyeasy to give in to. Especially for me.”

“Did you like the book?”

“Yeah, I did.” He picked my hand up and examined the bright red polish on my fingernails. “I mean, I felt bad for Ethan Frome. Like, what else was he supposed to do when he saw Mattie? I felt like I knew what he was feeling when he first saw her, because that’s what I felt like the minute I first saw you.”