“Maybe not exactly.” I’ve never nursed anyone I cared about, but I know the feeling once they’re gone.

“Closer than anyone else.” Shane’s got this look in his eyes, like he’s about to open some door between us.

“Are you done?” I ask.

He nods, so I take our plates and stack them in the sink. The rain patters on the roof, but it’s warm and cozy inside. I head back into the living room and turn on the TV. There’s never anything on—we don’t have cable since Aunt Gabby thinks it’s a waste of money—but we have a decent DVD collection. I drop onto the sofa and wave toward the shelves.

“Pick something.”

Shane puts in a slightly campy movie filled with aging action heroes. Then he sits beside me, though I didn’t leave him much choice by picking the middle of the couch. I’m glad when he puts an arm around me, so I can settle against him. We watch for a few minutes in silence, but I’m too conscious of his fingers on my shoulder to pay much attention.

Trying to seem relaxed, I turn my head to say something about the plot and realize he’s really close. In fact, I’ve caught him smelling my hair. He freezes like it’s not okay, and embarrassment raises red flags in his cheeks.

He pulls back with a mumble. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t mind.” I’m trying to tell him so much more than that, but I don’t have the words.

Neither of us is watching the movie. He’s just staring at me through his tousled curls. Shane shakes his hair out of his face, eyes intent on mine.

“So this is definitely a date?” I ask.

“What do you think?”

“I wasn’t sure. You said you needed a friend—”

“And I wasn’t sure what your deal was. Everyone thought you’d just broken up with your boyfriend of two years, but you claimed you were never together. So what was I supposed to say when you showed up at my house?”

Put in that context, it was surprising he hadn’t suspected I was crazy. You don’t get over a long relationship and move on that fast, unless there’s something messed up in your head. “I’m glad you gave me the benefit of the doubt. I mean … you did, right? You believe me or you wouldn’t be here.” I remember how he suspected I might be using him to make Ryan jealous.

“Yeah. But I have to ask. Do you go after all guys you like this way?”

“All I did was bring you some soup,” I say, indignant.

“And multiple lunches. You also got me involved in your environmental group, then invited me to Sunday lunch with your other friends and your aunt. Plus, you found me a job indirectly.”

Put that way, it does sound like I’ve made a project of him, but it wasn’t a conscious endeavor. As far as the P&K goes, I only wanted to help, plus it’s not like I ran around town. Big deal, I asked my aunt if she knew of anything, then Shane got the job on his own. The other stuff just kind of happened.

“I had nothing to do with you coming to help clean up the lot,” I mumble.

Which is true. I didn’t invite him; he volunteered.

Shane smiles. “You had everything to do with it. I wouldn’t have been there if you weren’t. And you still didn’t answer my question.”

The heat in my cheeks actually burns, and I can’t meet his gaze. “No. I’ve never liked anyone before. I mean, last year, I had a bit of a crush on Ryan, but he didn’t seem interested, so I left it alone. It seemed better not to ruin our friendship.” I lift my chin to check if he believes me.

His eyes darken at the words crush and Ryan. “You need to explain exactly what happened there. I know he’s not happy with me, but I don’t understand the problem. If you liked him last year and people thought you were already going out…” He’s getting tense, I can tell, and he said he doesn’t want any drama.

“You have to promise not to tell anyone,” I whisper.

“I’ll keep it off my vast gossip network.” The irony in his tone doesn’t escape me.

So I give him the rundown on everything that’s passed between us: how we were the best of friends and then I bailed, after learning how he used me to keep anyone from suspecting his real secret. When I finish, Shane looks as shocked as my aunt Gabby.

“That tall, skinny kid? Really?”

I nod. “And I’ve met Cassie.”

“So where do I fit in all of this?”

I realize then; he doesn’t understand that I’m just … drawn to him. He’s trying to figure out the reasons. “You don’t. Ryan has nothing to do with why I’m hanging out with you.”

“Then I don’t get it. I’m nothing special.”

“You are to me.”

There’s no way to explain why some people like coffee and others prefer tea. And that’s how I feel, frustrated because Shane thinks I have an agenda. But it also tells me he’s insecure, too, which is reassuring. With all my other issues, trying to date would be worse if he was all smooth and experienced.

“I’m not used to this,” he says softly. “I was pretty invisible at my old school … until I started causing trouble. Then I became That Kid. Everyone saw me after my mom died, but nobody wanted to. I was just another problem to solve.”

“I do want to help, but only because I’m wired that way. I’m not trying to fix you.” I hesitate before adding, “I don’t see you as broken.”

Not like me. And I’m so afraid that if I tell you everything, you won’t see me as more than the pieces they swept up after.

Shane lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair. “At this point, I should probably say, stay away from me. I don’t have anything good to give you right now, but then I think about not talking to you anymore and my chest hurts.”

“I can’t,” I point out. “You moved into my locker. Look, we’ll take it one day at a time. It’s pretty clear I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. So … relax.”

“I don’t know how to be a boyfriend,” he warns me.

I cock a brow at him, smiling. “That’s too bad … since I have a PhD in girlfriendology from the University of So Many Feelings.”

He laughs, as I intend. Then he’s leaning toward me. I have a panicked moment when I worry that I won’t know what to do, but when he tilts his head, I go the other way automatically, and it’s pretty natural when our lips meet. He kisses me tenderly, and it’s everything a first kiss should be. I sink my hands into his curls as his arms go around me. Shane’s so warm, his lips moving on mine in slow, gentle glides. It’s a sunbeam of a kiss, all delicious heat and lazy pleasure. When Shane pulls away, I can’t restrain a ridiculous smile. He seems pleased with himself, cuddling me close so we can pretend to watch the rest of the movie. By the time it ends, it’s after midnight and the storm has worsened.

“You’re not walking home in this,” I tell him.

“I wasn’t looking forward to it. Are you asking me to stay over?”

“Not for sex.” It seems best to make that clear.

“Damn.” Obviously teasing, he makes a mock-disappointed face, as if he really thought that was on the table. “I can take the couch—”

“I’d rather have you with me.” This is a unique opportunity to be close to Shane, so I can’t look a gift horse—or storm—in the mouth. We can probably make do in my bed. It’s a daybed, but if we curl up close, it should work. Aunt Gabby has a bigger one, but it would be too weird to sleep in there with Shane. It’s odd as I go about the nightly check, which my aunt usually performs. She looks at all the windows and doors, making sure everything is fastened and bolted. Two women living alone can’t be too careful, she says, and I appreciate that she doesn’t call me a kid.

“Do you do this every night?” he asks.

“My aunt does.”

After I’m sure the house is as safe as we can make it, I turn out most of the lights and lead the way back to my bedroom. Then I find Shane a large University of Michigan shirt that my aunt stole from some past boyfriend and never gave back. I’m wondering, Do we have spare toothbrushes in the bathroom? I think so. Aunt Gabby buys stuff when it’s on sale. So I pull a new blue one from an open package and hand it to him.