Then

Carys ~ 14 years old

“OH, MY GOD!” WE scream in unison.

“I told you he liked you,” Lauren says.

With bubbling excitement, I raise my hands above my head and launch into two successive cartwheels through the bar. As luck would have it, Ma swings through the doors as I land on my feet.

“Carys Evelyn Wolfe! If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, no gymnastics inside. Are we clear?”

I’m surprised to see Evan and Ry standing in the doorway, both smirking, and I notice Evan’s eyes are dark, fixed on me. My stomach flips at his heated, lingering gaze.

“Young lady, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“Sorry, Ma, I got carried away.”

“Aunt Siobhan, give Carys a break this one time. We’re celebrating. Stone just invited her to his pool party!” Lauren says.

Ma raises an eyebrow and a small smile graces her lovely face. “Ah, the Stone finally asked you out?”

After first glaring at Lauren because of her big mouth, I smile at Ma. I’d grin bigger, if I didn’t have an audience. Both boys remain silent, but it’s clear I’m the main attraction. All eyes are on me.

“I wouldn’t call it that. He invited me to his pool party. Half the school will be there.”

“Stop right there,” Lauren says, holding her hand up. “Stone Sutton does not, and I repeat, does not need to go personally inviting people, unless he seriously likes them. He did that for you.”

“Lauren, chill,” I caution with an eye roll. While I’d love to believe every word out of her mouth, I refuse to get overly excited. Yes, Stone did do that and yes, I think he’s really cute, but I’m not going to make this a bigger deal than it is—or at the very least, I’m going to try not to.

“We’ll be at that party,” Ry adds, with his finger aimed at me with an annoying big brother smirk.

“Gee, you sure know how to have a good time, party boy,” I retort sarcastically. “That’s lame, even for you. You’d rather watch your little sister than have fun? Loser.”

Ry chuckles, gearing up to volley his response back when Evan finally speaks.

“Stone Sutton?”

“Yes, isn’t it awesome!” Lauren chimes in, fully aware that she’s fanning the flames. My girl loves drama.

“Isn’t he a bit old for you?”

“He’s seventeen; I’d say that’s a fine age.”

“He’s too old. We’re seventeen.” He motions between Ry and himself. “You should be going out with boys your own age or not dating at all.”

“I’m fully aware of your age. As for who I go out with, that’s none of your business, and that goes for both of you.” I point back and forth between them too.

Evan widens his posture, feet shoulder-width apart and hands on his hips. If I wasn’t fighting to keep my cool, I might actually be hot and bothered by his magnificence. There’s no denying he’s hot, and as we get older, he gets better and better.

His tall broad frame, hard stomach, and handsome face are a lethal combination. He’d kill me if I ever said it to his face, but there’s no denying that when I look at Evan, I understand what sex-on-a-stick means—and I can say this without a doubt, even though I’m a virgin and nowhere near ready for sex.

“Don’t you think you’re too young for boys like Stone? He’s a player.” Evan’s low, heavy tone hits me where it counts.

Ry laughs, shaking his head. We’ve been here before, done this little prance around the merry-go-round. While Ry isn’t thrilled with me seeing guys, he’s at least realistic about it. It’s going to happen.

Evan’s a different story. He never budges, no matter who I talk to or if I go out with a guy, and I’ve only gone out with two. Both were one time only, but no matter what, he puts the boy and me through the wringer. It’s tiresome and extremely frustrating.

At one point, I thought it was because he liked me and didn’t want me seeing other guys, but he’s never made a move, and that’s not Evan. He doesn’t wait for life to happen to him, he makes things happen.

That’s why I finally gave in and started going out with guys. While a girl can still dream—and dream I do—I figure Evan isn’t into me.

“Hardly. He likes me and I like him, that’s all that matters.”

“Take it slow.” Evan’s tone sounds like a threat, an undercurrent of what he’s capable of if he has to step in.

“What do you care? You’re seeing what’s-her-face,” I snap, fed up with his attitude and his poor attempt at parenting. Ma’s right here, and she’s not objecting.

“Who?” he asks, like he doesn’t know.

“That skank, Tiffany, Lacie, Brittany—you know, the one with the stripper name.”

“Her name is Amber. Not cool, Sweetness,” Evan spits out.

I hate that he uses his name for me in the same breath as the name of that ho. He’s just as pissed, but I can’t tell if it’s because I called his girlfriend a stripper or because of my sassy tone. Maybe it’s both. I don’t care.

“Gee, sorry.”

That’s my cue to leave, deliberately ignoring him as he calls my name. He maddens me to no end. He claims Stone is a player—well, at least Stone likes me!

Evan and I are still close, but it’s different. When it’s just us, it’s perfect with his casual way, his infectious laugh, and charming smiles, but we’re just friends.

His comments about my age infuriate me. He sees me as a kid. A painful ache sits heavy and tight across my chest, with a knot forming in my stomach. If Evan even showed me an ounce of interest, I wouldn’t so much as look at another guy.

As much as I enjoy going out, flirting, and having a good time, none of these guys are him. It never goes anywhere, much to their annoyance. Truth be told, while I liked the guys I went out with, my main reason was to get a reaction out of Evan, which has been an epic fail on my part, each and every time.

Meanwhile, I want to spew puke every time I catch a glimpse of Evan and Amber. At school, she hangs off him every chance she gets. I hate her, and at times like these, I almost hate him, but hating him hurts. It hurts too much to hate a part of me.

Halfway up the stairs, I turn to Lauren. “L, can we hang out later? I just want to be alone.”

“Aww, C, I can make it better.”

Ma is behind her with her let’s talk face. Placing her hand on Lauren’s shoulder, she says, “Honey, Carys and I need to talk. Run along home and you can come back by when she calls.”

Lauren looks from me to my mother with understanding, gives me a hug, and leaves.

“Upstairs, my girl,” Ma orders gently.

Once on my bed, Ma scoots beside me, hanging her arm over my shoulder. I lean into her and her familiar scent comforts me, somewhat dulling the ache. The tears well in my eyes and before I can get them under control, they spill freely down my cheeks.

“You know he does it because he cares,” she says quietly.

“Does he?”

Ma sits up straight, turning toward me, and cups my wet cheeks. “Absolutely! That boy is utterly and madly in love with you.” Her fingers wipe at my insistent tears as she gives me a loving smile.

“Pfft, please. You’re blind,” I scoff through my sobs. “He doesn’t even see me. I’m just the little sister.”

“He may be older than you, but he’s still a boy.” I giggle, knowing Evan would lose it at her description. “Well, okay, a young man, but my point is, he’s trying to figure this out too, and my guess is, he doesn’t know how to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

“How he feels, that you’re his heart and he’s yours.”

§

Evan ~ 17 years old

“HEY, VAN, GOTTA HAND it to Twinkie for calling Amber out like that.” Ry chuckles.

At any other time, I’d laugh at his nickname for his sister. She hates it. Ry came up with it when she was younger. She’d run around on her tiptoes, couldn’t just walk like a normal kid. He thought of a Twinkie, whatever that means. She hated it, and so he keeps at it.

“Fuck off,” I grit out. “She’s not a stripper and you know it.”

“Yeah, I know, but she’s right in that Amber’s not exactly innocent.”

“And you’re one to talk.” I sneer, alluding to the fact that I’ve done nothing worthwhile with Amber, whereas he could basically star in a porno. “The girls you hook up with aren’t exactly the take them home to the parents type either.”

He has a lot of nerve saying that shit to me. He’s the player, never had a girlfriend but could charm the panties off a nun. He and Tripp are on a quest to sample the wares of half, if not all, of the girls in our high school before they graduate.

Me, I’m not interested. Sure, I’ve gone out with a few girls, but never anything serious. I’m not on a mission to bed countless girls.

Contrary to my reputation, I’m still a virgin. Yeah, I don’t know why…ah, fuck, I do know why: Sweetness. I just can’t. Sure, I go out with girls and we kiss and fool around, but as much as I’m turned on and fucking hard, my heart’s not in it. Ry knows, but he’s never said a thing. We don’t talk about his sister.

The weirdest part is, the girls I go out with lie. It started with Stacie years ago. We went into the bushes at a party, and everyone saw. She pushed for sex, and I flat out refused. Fuck, I sound like a pussy.

The next day at school, she bragged about bagging Evan Hart. What was I going to say? That it didn’t happen? No way. That’s how my reputation as a great lay was born, and Sweetness is aware of it. It guts me every time that she thinks that’s who I am.

While I certainly appreciate the opposite sex and look my fair share, only one girl truly has my attention. Only one girl has my heart, and it’s killing me not to tell her.

“You have to cut that shit out or you’ll drive her crazy or away or both,” Ry says.

“I know.” I run my fingers through my unruly hair. “I don’t want her hurt. Anyone hurts her, and I’ll kill ’em.”

“You and me both, but in case you missed it, if any guy hurts Carys, she’ll probably get to him before we do. My sister’s one badass girl.” He laughs, slugging me lightly in the upper arm.

“Very true.” The thought brings a genuine smile to my face.

My Sweetness is self-assured, caring, and undeniably spirited, but her openness also makes her vulnerable. It’s that side of her that many don’t get to see. I’m only trying to safeguard all of her, her vulnerability and her sass.

Sitting around the bar, Ry faces me, his expression serious. I have an inkling as to what’s on his mind. We’ve been skirting around this for years, neither of us having the balls to discuss what’s going on between his sister and me, for fear of fucking up our friendship. I don’t think we will, or at least I hope to God we won’t.

What’s holding me back is her age. She’s fourteen to my seventeen, and while we’re both considered kids, minors, I’d feel irresponsible, like I’m taking advantage of her, of this wonderful family that’s taken me in with open arms, if I moved in on my best friend’s little sister.

“Van, make your move already,” Ry says forcefully, his meaning unmistakable, despite his blank face.

“What?” I pussy out, playing oblivious.

“You heard me.”

There he is, my best friend, who knows me to the core. He’s pushing me to talk. My stomach churns and tightens like someone’s got my intestines tightly wrapped in their fist. Well, here goes nothing.

“I want to. Believe me, more than anything, I want to, but…”

“What?”

“She’s young. I don’t want to screw this up, assume, or rush things. I want her to experience life before we get serious, because when we do…” I pin Ry with my gaze. I want him to see and understand how serious I am. “There’s no turning back. We’re going all in, full steam ahead.”

I clench my fists, fighting the shakes taking over my body. It’s not fear unsettling me — not of commitment or rejection, because neither are even a consideration. It’s the waiting. It’s hard and taxing on my patience and desire, but I want to do right by her.

I want her to experience high school; I got to do that, and still am. We could do it together, and in a way we are, but I don’t want her to have any regrets later in life.

While I’m okay with her going out with guys—barely—I don’t want her with dicks like Stone Sutton. He wants one thing and one thing only: into her panties—and that right there, that’s fucking mine.

“Hey.” Ry’s hand comes down on my shoulder and squeezes. “I’ve never said this because I never thought it needed saying, but…”

His cheeks flush as he glances away, then looks back. Whatever he’s going to say must be mushy and emotional, totally uncool for two seventeen-year-old guys to be talking about.

But that’s the thing about us: we may be young punks who do stupid and immature things, but we’ve also had to be mature a lot sooner than others our age. Both of us work two jobs, one in the kitchen of the bar and another at a garage down the street, to help Ma. It’s not easy being a single parent of three teenagers, and none of us wants to make this any harder on her than it already is.

“Like you, I’ve always known you were it for Carys, and she knows it, too. She and I have never talked about it, but it’s in her face when she looks at you. I’ve seen it there since she was a little girl, and there’s no other asshole I’d rather see my sister with than you. If you’re waiting for my permission or Ma’s, you have it.”

Here I was thinking I’d managed to keep my growing attraction on the down low. Meanwhile, he’s known all along, maybe even before I did, that my feelings for Carys have morphed and grown into this nameless, wild, desperate thing.

I’m touched that he trusts me with his sister. He’d die for Carys, and to know he’s okay with me wanting to be with her is huge.

“Thanks, Ry. It means a lot to know that, but it’s her age and not wanting to stop her experiences too early that holds me back.” I rush to spill all my raw, vulnerable thoughts. Next to Carys, Ry is the only other person I’d be this open with.

“Nah, Van, you got it all wrong. I bet if you asked her, she’d say she’s biding her time, too, waiting for you.”

Ma walks back in, eyes on me. She’s aware Ry’s here, but I’m her target.

“Rylan, can you make sure the kitchen’s ready? We open in fifteen,” she says. Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?

She waits for Ry to leave, then comes to stand beside me.

“You better watch it, Evan,” she warns.

“What?”

“I know you mean well, but you can’t keep pushing her like that.” It’s evident the ‘her’ is Carys. “She loves you dearly and wants to please you, but she won’t take orders from you. And for goodness sake, she’s a teenage girl—in case you missed it, they like teenage boys.”

Ma sits beside me, perched on a bar stool. Taking my big, callused hands in her delicate ones, she gently rubs the tops.

“It’s no secret what my girl means to you, and I love it. In fact, I encourage it at any and every turn, but you either make your intentions known or you back away until you’re ready. She needs to live her life and you encouraging her one minute, then holding back the next, is confusing her. The poor girl’s getting whiplash. Frankly, so am I.” She chuckles.

My chest aches at the thought of Carys confused and frustrated because of me. It’s the last thing I want. I’m not ready to come clean to Ma, although it’s clear there’s nothing to come clean about. Like Ry, she knows my intentions, and I’ve got her support, but my confession to Ry was enough for one day.