Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Summer in Meadowbrook was predictable in the best and worst ways.
Best because I’d grown up here, knew every shortcut through town, every person in town, and every constellation that lit up the Montana sky after dark.
Worst because Meadowbrook was a small town and small towns meant everyone knew everyone’s business—which made sneaking around with Liam infinitely more complicated.
I wiped a bead of sweat from my forehead as I finished demonstrating the pirouette sequence to my class of eight-year-olds.
The dance studio where I’d taken my first ballet class at age four hadn’t changed much—same wood floors scuffed by decades of dancers, same wall of mirrors that caught every wobble and every perfect move, and unfortunately the same outdated AC unit that barely cut the heat.
“Okay, that’s it for today,” I said, clapping my hands. “Practice your spotting at home, and I’ll see you Thursday.”
A chorus of “Bye, Miss Ava!” erupted as they scattered toward their waiting parents. Miss Ava. God, that made me feel old. I was only twenty, but to these kids, I might as well be ancient.
I grabbed my water bottle and checked my phone while the studio cleared out. A text from my mom waited on the screen.
Mom
Dad invited Liam for dinner. Hope that’s okay. You know how your father worries about that boy eating enough.
My stomach did a slow flip.
Me
That’s fine. What time?
Mom
Six. I’m making pot roast.
I shoved my phone back in my bag and tried not to think about what dinner with Liam and my parents would look like. We’d managed to keep our distance for the first two weeks of summer—mainly because he’d been busy working and spending his free time with his mom, Liz.
Me
You should invite his mom too.
Mom
Already did, but she’s going to the new book club at the library. She promised she’d come visit another time.
I should’ve known my mom would be one step ahead of me. It was a small town and Liam’s mom had been friends with my mom since we were little.
And maybe it was a good thing Liz wasn’t able to come. It was going to be hard enough sitting across from him at the same dinner table as my parents and pretending he hadn’t made me come more times than any other boyfriend I’d had.
It felt a lot like playing Russian roulette with my self-control.
The drive home took ten minutes, most of it spent on empty back roads flanked by fields. My parents’ house sat at the end of a long gravel drive—a sprawling farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a red barn that had seen better days but still stood proud against the Montana sky.
My dad’s truck was already parked next to my mom’s 4Runner.
He was home early. I parked and walked in through the unlocked front door.
I didn’t think there’d ever been a time when this door was locked.
Everyone always just came and went without worrying about it.
But before I could slip upstairs to shower off the grime and sweat from the poorly air conditioned studio, my dad walked around the corner.
“There’s my girl!”
I turned to find him standing in the kitchen doorway, still dusty from work, a glass of lemonade in his hand.
“Hey, Dad.”
“How were the little ones today?”
“Good. Still working on their spotting, but they’re getting there. They’re fun at this age, even if they’re a little unruly.”
He nodded like he expected no less. My dad wasn’t an overly emotional man and he’d become more closed off since the fight with Drew.
I knew it was wearing on him. My mom was another story.
She was beside herself missing Rory, but she’d always said that marriage was a partnership.
She would stand by Dad’s side even if she missed her son and granddaughter.
I only hoped she was trying to convince him to end this feud once and for all.
“Liam’s joining us for dinner,” he said. “I know your mom texted you.”
“Yeah, I saw.”
“Good. That boy works too hard and doesn’t eat enough. His mother would have my head if I sent him home without a decent meal.”
I managed a smile. “You’re a good boss.”
“I try.” He took a sip of his lemonade. “Dinner’s at six. Don’t be late—you know how your mother gets.”
I did know. My mom’s pot roast was sacred, and anyone who let it get cold was committing a felony in her eyes.
I escaped upstairs to shower, standing under the hot spray until my muscles loosened and my mind stopped racing.
This was fine. I could do this. Liam and I had been friends for years before anything happened between us.
This wasn’t the first dinner we’d been at together.
I could sit through one dinner without giving anything away.
Probably.
At five minutes to six, I came downstairs in a sundress that showed off my curves. It wasn’t abnormal for me to wear a sundress, but I’d made sure to pick one that I remembered Liam commenting on before.
It had always stood out to me because he so rarely commented on what I wore, but last summer he’d told me I looked pretty when I wore this one.
He’d gone home with Stella Monroe later that night, but I was choosing to ignore that part.
Liam was already at the kitchen table, freshly showered, his dark hair still damp and curling slightly at the ends.
He was wearing a simple hunter-green T-shirt that stretched across his chest in a way that should’ve been illegal, and when his gaze found mine, the corner of his mouth lifted just enough to make my heart stutter.
“Hey, Aves.”
“Hey.”
My mother bustled past with a serving dish, completely oblivious to the electricity crackling between us. “Ava, can you grab the bread basket from the counter?”
I did as I was told, grateful for something to do with my hands, but the reprieve only lasted so long.
Dinner was an exercise in restraint.
Every time Liam passed me a dish, his fingers brushed mine.
Every time he laughed at one of my dad’s corny jokes, I felt the sound vibrate through me like a tuning fork.
And every time his foot nudged mine under the table—accidentally, I was sure—I had to remind myself that my parents were sitting right there and I could not, under any circumstances, climb across the pot roast and into his lap.
Five weeks without his touch and it was like I was starving—needy in a way I’d never felt before.
“Mrs. D, you’ve outdone yourself. This is the best pot roast I’ve ever eaten—don’t tell my mom.”
My mother practically glowed. “Would you like seconds?”
I watched him accept another helping and thought about all the dinners he must have eaten at our table over the years.
All the summers he’d spent working for my dad or just hanging around getting into God-knows-what kind of trouble with Drew.
My parents had taken him in like a stray, fed him, worried about him, treated him like family.
But I’d never considered him family. I’d never looked at him like a brother.
I’d had a crush on him once—small enough to bury because he was Drew’s best friend and I knew he’d never go for me.
But it was like everything had shifted, and despite always being in each other’s orbits, I’d never been more aware of him than I was now.
More aware of the way he pulled me in with no effort whatsoever, like he had some weird kind of gravitational pull I couldn’t resist.
We’d agreed to finish my bucket list this summer. What would happen once it was done?
After dinner, Liam helped my dad with the dishes while my mom and I put away leftovers. The whole thing was so painfully domestic that I almost laughed. Here we were, playing house with my parents, when all I could think about was getting him alone.
“I should head out,” Liam said finally, drying his hands on a dish towel. “Early start tomorrow.”
My dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Drive safe, son.”
“Always.” Liam’s eyes met mine for just a second—long enough to convey a message I understood perfectly. “Night, Aves.”
“Night.”
I watched him walk out the back door, his taillights disappearing down the gravel drive, and told myself to breathe.
My parents were asleep by ten, their bedroom door firmly closed, but I still waited another twenty minutes just to be safe. Then I slipped out of my room and down the stairs, avoiding the creaky fourth step out of habit.
The night air was warm against my skin as I crossed the yard toward the barn. Moonlight spilled across the grass, turning everything silver, and I could hear the distant chorus of crickets and frogs that made up Meadowbrook’s summer symphony.
The barn door was cracked open and there was already a light on.
I slipped inside and found Liam leaning against a hay bale, waiting for me.
His gaze slid from my sandal-clad feet up my bare legs and over my sundress until he reached my eyes.
I felt it like a warm caress, and goose bumps broke out on my arms. His smile was sex personified, and I was practically vibrating with anticipation.
“Took you long enough, Sunshine.”
“Some of us have to wait for our parents to actually fall asleep,” I said, crossing to him.
He caught my hand when I got close enough, tugging me down to sit beside him. “You think they suspect?”
“No.”
“Good. I’d really like your dad to not kill me on the job site and make it look like an accident.”
For a moment, we just sat there, shoulders touching, his warm hand still enveloping mine, our fingers playing with each other.
“Dinner was torture,” he murmured, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand. “Do you have any idea how hard it was not to touch you?”
“Please. You were the picture of self-control.”
“I was dying, Ava.” He turned to face me, his expression serious beneath the teasing. “All I could think about was how good you looked in that dress and how much I wanted to take it off you.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “Liam.”
“What? It’s true.” He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. “I’ve been thinking about you all day. About what we could do now that we finally have some time.”
“We have all summer,” I reminded him, even as my pulse quickened.
“Exactly.” His eyes glinted in the darkness. “Which is why I think we should go to the lake tonight.”
I blinked. “The lake? It’s almost eleven.”
“Perfect.” He was already standing, pulling me up with him. “No one will be there. It’s just us and the stars and all that water. And I seem to remember a certain item on your list that requires a natural body of water.”
Skinny-dipping.
“We could get caught,” I said weakly.
“By who? The fish?” He stood up, pulling me with him and settling his hands on my hips. “Come on, Aves. Live a little. Isn’t that the whole point of the list?”
It was. That was exactly the point.
“Fine,” I said, and his answering grin was worth every risk. “But if we get arrested for public indecency, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal.” He laced his fingers through mine and tugged me toward the barn door. “Come on, Sunshine. We’ve got a lake to skinny-dip in.”