Chapter 16
Julia
The fireworks went off without a single call to the fire department, which, by lake house standards, is basically a national achievement.
No wayward bottle rockets. No flaming s’mores flying through the air. No Gunnar launching Roman candles from the grill.
Even more shocking? My dad and Thatch laughed together.
Well, it was more my dad laughing at Thatch right after he slipped on the dock, tripped over a string of unlit fireworks, and cannonballed into the lake fully clothed while holding a heaping plate of ribs that he was in the process of eating, but it’s better than no laughter at all.
When Thatch popped back up like a deranged seal, with barbecue sauce still smeared across his mouth, my dad lost it.
I’m talking full-on, clutching-his-stomach, laughing his ass off.
Kline Brooks, the man who has barely spoken a full sentence to Thatch since the Crocodile Birthday Incident, doubled over laughing so hard I thought he was choking.
Ace and I made eye contact across the dock, both of us hopeful that it was a sign the feud was coming to an end.
“They’re either making up,” Ace had whispered, “or your dad is plotting my dad’s murder.”
Now, it’s really late, and the lake house is quiet.
Everyone’s asleep. The moonlight spills through the window of Scottie, Evie, Willow’s, and my room like silver mist. Scottie’s snoring softly across the room, Evie’s tangled in her blankets, dead to the world, Willow’s passed out with socks all over her head in an attempt to master heatless curls, but despite shutting off my phone and rolling over to fall asleep an hour ago, I’m still wide awake.
Maybe it’s the leftover energy from the day.
Maybe it’s the fact that I keep overanalyzing every text from Drew and wondering why I feel a weird combination of excitement and indifference.
Maybe I’m traumatized from watching a shirtless, mullet-sporting Gunnar eat fifteen hot dogs in two minutes on a dare from Thatch.
No matter the reason, no counting of sheep or lack of blue light has been enough to lull me into submission.
The stillness is interrupted by the door creaking open, soft and slow.
Ace walks on quiet feet through streaming moonlight after shutting the door behind himself, lifts the thin white comforter off my bed, and climbs in beside me, staring up at the ceiling. I roll onto my side to face him, and he does the same, his big mouth curving up into his signature grin.
“I have something big. Huge. A secret. And I think I need to share it with you,” he whispers into the quiet of Aunt Paula and Uncle Brad’s big, old house.
A gentle hum of the air conditioning working against the heat and humidity of July at night is the only sound I hear other than Ace’s excited breathing.
For the first time tonight, I’m kind of glad I didn’t fall into a sound slumber. If he’d come in and found me passed out, he might not have stayed to share his news.
“What? What is it?” I search his eyes intently. “I thought everyone was asleep.”
Ace shakes his head, joining our hands up by my head and making me smile.
His lips are curled so high it’s bringing light to his eyes, and even in the dark of this quiet room, he manages to glow.
I don’t know anyone else with this much natural charisma.
Even his parents, whom everyone thinks he matches apple for apple, come from a crazier, more unhinged, unpredictable place than he does.
His energy is chaotic at times, but it’s also centered in warmth and kindness and love in ways I don’t really know if I can explain.
He always makes me feel safe to be myself and makes me lean into the enjoyment of life in the best way.
I don’t know what I’d do if we weren’t friends, which is probably why I had a private talk with my dad tonight before coming to bed.
I didn’t beg him to find forgiveness for Thatch—and I definitely didn’t belittle his feelings over how often he’s gotten the short end of the stick over the years.
But I did remind him of all the good, irreplaceable things the Kellys have brought to our lives—of all the things I’d miss if they weren’t a part of our world like they are now.
“Jules, you’re never going to believe this,” Ace whispers, his focus understandably on telling me the secret he has. “But I saw Blake getting up out of his bed in our room and pulling on a T-shirt before he snuck out the door.”
“Where did he go?”
Ace smiles, his hand squeezing mine with renewed excitement. “I got up and looked out the window just in time to see him and someone else climbing into a canoe and taking off out across the lake.”
“Who?” I ask, the gossip getting juicier by the second.
“Lexi.”
“What?” I breathe, trying to keep my voice quiet and failing spectacularly. Ace puts an excited finger against my lips, and I grab his wrist tightly and squeal. “Do you think… Are they fooling around?”
Ace shrugs. “I don’t know, but they looked pretty freaking friendly. Like, not Lexi-friendly. Really friendly. I think they might be dating behind all our backs or something.”
“Oh, come on,” I breathe. “Lexi? She basically hates Blake. She’s always giving him shit and turning him down.”
“Yeah, well. I think that might just be part of the plot. Part of them throwing us off their scent.”
“Should we follow them?” I ask excitedly, sitting up and throwing the comforter off in one smooth motion.
“Definitely not,” Ace disagrees, catching me by the forearm before my toes can touch the floor.
“What?” I turn to face him, my waist twisting. “Definitely not? Are you kidding? I thought you’d be all for this.”
Ace shakes his head. “Both Blake and Lexi have abilities that scare me. He benches 250. She can almost undoubtedly kill me without a forensic trace. We sit this one out. But we know what we know, and that’s better than nothing.
” I frown, but he pulls me back down into the bed and tosses the comforter over both of us.
“Think about it, Lia. We know a secret that no one else knows about Lexi. I didn’t think that was possible. ”
“It’s amazing, actually,” I agree, my adrenaline calming enough to see the wisdom of his approach. Light sways through his eyes in a slow dance as he watches me talk. It cradles me gently, holding space for me to ramble on and on for as long as I’d like. “I feel like a spy. Or a—”
Ace’s lips crash into mine with surprising accuracy. My head goes back as I let out a gasp, and his tongue moves inside, touching just the tip of mine.
I pull back, shocked, an electric current running wildly through the entire top half of my body. Hands to his chest, I hold him at bay as though he’s going to launch toward me again. “What in the fuck was that?”
“What?”
“Ace, you just kissed me.”
“We always kiss.”
“Not on the lips and not with tongue.”
“What’s the difference?” Ace argues, purposely dodging the point completely as though he can’t tell how thready my pulse is under his fingers.
“Ace,” I whisper. “Why did you kiss me?”
“Because this moment felt too perfect to pass up. Because I wanted to. Because…” He pauses, and I hold my breath against a deluge of coulds and shoulds and maybes.
He searches my eyes, and I know they harbor a touch of wildness.
“We’re best friends, Lia. Inseparable and unstoppable and… it was a best-friend kiss.”
“A best-friend kiss?” I repeat as my mind races with the reality that it didn’t feel like a kiss of friendship at all. It felt like…a kiss. “Ace, our dads are best friends, and they don’t kiss with tongue.”
“Well, they’re currently still in a fight, so that’s like comparing apples to oranges, babe.”
I sigh. “Fine. Our moms are best friends, and they don’t kiss with tongue.”
“That you know of.”
“Ew.” I groan, and he shrugs.
“Hey, my mom is too unpredictable, and you know it.”
“Please, for the love of my sanity, change the subject.”
He smiles at me. And then he whispers, “We know a secret about Lexi that no one else knows.”
“We do.” And you kissed me. Though, I don’t dare say that out loud.
“Now, we should go to sleep,” Ace says, snuggling me closer to him. His eyes meet mine again, searching, but then they stop searching altogether and go from open to shut.
An unexpected disappointment racks me, and I swallow hard against it to trap the urge to say something—to tread into dangerous territory with the boy I’ve known my entire life—deep down by my stomach. A burn sizzles as the acid there works to destroy the uninvited hope.
“Night, Lia.” He moves his hand from mine to the side of my head, where he strokes my hair mindlessly.
“Night, Ace.” I force my lids closed too, letting my body settle into his warmth as he caresses the strands.
As confusing as the kiss was, I still find comfort. Ease. Companionship. Peace.
And it doesn’t take long before I fall asleep in his arms, everything else forgotten.