His kisses were incredible. He tasted like summer, sunshine, and spearmint. He’d pulled me to his side of the bench in the cab of his truck and kissed me until I was breathless. Kissed me on the lips, on the neck, on the shoulder, but never pressured me for anything more. I knew he’d wanted to take things further, but he was letting me lead, and I appreciated that more than I could ever tell him.

   Now, I was to spend an entire weekend with him. Surely, something would happen between us. I just wasn’t sure I was ready for it. I wasn’t normally a nail biter, but I’d chewed my nails to the quick just thinking about how I would tell him I wasn’t ready to sleep with him.

   From my bedroom window on the second floor, I watched him park his truck and then walk to my front door. He was wearing khaki cargo shorts and a blue cotton t-shirt that only made his blond hair look more sun-streaked. He reached forward and I heard my doorbell ring. This was it. I walked as smoothly as I could down the stairs, not wanting to appear at the door too soon and seem too eager. I didn’t want him to think I’d been sitting in my bedroom waiting for him.

   I opened the door and his smile assaulted me, left me feeling a bit like Jell-O.

   “Hey, babe,” he said as he stepped into my house and gave me a chaste kiss on the mouth. Apparently, I’d been upgraded to a pet name. “Are your parents home? I wouldn’t mind saying hello.”

   “Uh, no. They have a dinner thing they do once a week with their friends. Kind of like a kid-free, we-want-to-pretend-like-we’re-teenagers-again thing. It’s a little pathetic. They drink and then my mom usually falls on her way up the stairs, giggling loudly then shushing my dad. Then I have to pretend like I don’t hear them.”

   He laughed at my description. “Oh, okay. Maybe when I drop you off then.”

   I was a little suspicious that he was so concerned with wanting to see my parents, but I chalked it up to his reputation of perfection. Perfect boyfriends would have a good relationship with parents. But he wasn’t my boyfriend, was he?

   “Are you my boyfriend?” I spat out before my mind had even processed the words.

   He laughed again, louder this time, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me toward him. “We haven’t really talked about it,” he said, leaning down so our eyes were level. “Do you want me to be your boyfriend?”

   I thought about his question. Did I want him to be my boyfriend? I wasn’t sure. I had boyfriends in the past, and they’d only turned out to be disasters. Possessive and overbearing. But nothing about Elliot made me feel like he could be possessive or overbearing if he tried. I felt like if Elliot were my boyfriend, he’d only be sweet and attentive, chivalrous, playful. I also thought he’d kiss me a lot, which I wasn’t opposed to – he was an excellent kisser.

   “I’m not opposed to you being my boyfriend.”

   “Well, that’s a convincing response.” His words indicated I might have hurt his feelings, but his face was still smiling, those damned blue eyes sparkling. He leaned forward again and pressed his lips to mine. This time, the kiss wasn’t chaste. It was hot. And wet. His eager tongue barged into my mouth, took control, tasted every part of me, and left me panting when he pulled away. “Tell you what. You hang on to your answer for now. When I drop you off on Sunday, I’ll ask you again, and maybe you’ll have a more convincing answer.”

   “Okay,” I breathed, literally unable to form any words besides the one. He picked my backpack up off the floor and then motioned for me to leave the house ahead of him – ever the gentleman. He helped me into his truck, hands on my waist, which I was becoming accustomed to, even started looking forward to. When he was in the driver’s seat, he turned his head my way and crooked a finger at me. I smiled and moved to the middle so our shoulders were touching.

   “I’m not driving for two hours without being able to touch you.”

   “You’ve already driven so much today. I could have met you at the cabin, you know.”

   “But then I wouldn’t be able to drive you home. And trust me when I say, Evie, taking you home, saying goodbye, those are some of my favorite times with you.”

   I blushed because I knew he was thinking about all the making out we’d done in his truck down the street from my house. I couldn’t argue with him. Those were some of my favorite times with him as well.

   For two hours we drove, listening to the radio, telling each other memories the songs brought up, learning a little more about one another. Either his hand was on my thigh, my knee, or wrapped around mine, his fingers threaded through my own. I’d lost track of where we were as we headed into parts of the state I was unfamiliar with.

   When we pulled off the main highway onto a gravel road, my nervousness spiked. I was comfortable being alone in his truck with him, but we were venturing into new territory. Would he assume we were staying in the same room? Did I want to stay in his room? If I stayed in his room, would he expect sex? I shook my head at the thought. Of course, he wouldn’t expect sex. Elliot was, and had always been, exceedingly respectful. Perhaps I was just nervous that I would want to have sex with him.

   He gave my hand a squeeze, but then released it, needing both hands to mind the steering wheel as he navigated the unpaved and pothole-riddled road. The shaking of our bodies as we drove over the road hid the trembling of my hands, which I was grateful for. The truck pulled around one last bend in the road and I saw two things immediately. The first was a gorgeous and rustic-looking log cabin. It only appeared rustic though, because I could tell by looking at it that it was pretty new. Exposed logs on the outside made it look like every log cabin I’d ever seen in movies or books. It was almost too perfect.

   The second thing I noticed was we pulled up right next to another car parked in front of the house. I looked at Elliot and he was wearing a sneaky grin, but before I could ask him who the car belonged to, Olivia came bounding out the front door, yelling “Surprise!” She launched herself toward the truck, but I quickly turned to Elliot.

   “How did you…? What is she doing here?”

   He didn’t have time to answer before my door was pried open and I was yanked out. Olivia had her arms around me in a tight hug. “Are you surprised?”

   “Yes,” I managed, even though she was depriving me of oxygen. As she loosened her grip on me, I saw the front door open again and Devon came out, walking toward us with a smile. I tried not to notice how the sunlight brought out the lighter brown highlights of his hair. I hadn’t seen him all summer, so the difference in him physically was a little startling. He was bigger, if that was even possible.

   When we’d met in the spring, he’d already been one of the biggest guys I’d ever met. But, he was bulkier now. More imposing.

   “Evie.” Devon said my name with such ease, as if I was one of his best friends. “Glad to see you’re surprised, and that this one here didn’t blab to you that we’d be here,” he said as he wrapped his arm around Liv’s shoulders.

   “I don’t blab,” she said, insulted.

   “Babe, you keep secrets for shit.”

   “That’s not true,” I jumped in, ready to defend her. “When it really counts, she keeps a good secret. It’s gossip you’re thinking about. She spills gossip faster than butter melts in a hot pan.”

   “Thank you, Evie. I think.” She stepped out of Devon’s arm as the two boys did that typical male handshake, back-pound ritual.

   “I’m glad you guys could make it up. I think it’s gonna be a fun weekend.” With that, Elliot took my bag from the truck, as well as his own, and then nodded his head in a way that said I was to follow.

   We walked into the foyer and I tried to keep my mouth closed, but I felt it drop open in awe. The cabin looked like it could have been staged for a photo shoot in some home journal magazine about the filthy rich’s vacation homes.