“She can’t be far,” Ezra says.

“There are a million people here with cars!” I flail my arms around, suddenly very angry at every single patron of the Pine Tree Lodge. They’re all suspects now. “She could have hitched a ride with anyone!”

“But why would she leave?” Ezra’s voice is a thousand times calmer than mine. “She’s having a fun night. There’s no reason for her to bail on us. She’s around here, we just have to find her.”

“What if she saw us almost—” I can’t bring myself to say the word kiss. That would be admitting out loud what almost happened back there. I almost became the other girl. Ezra almost became a cheater. I’m maybe not the most moral person ever, but I am definitely not the other girl.

Ezra shakes his head. “So? She wants us to like each other, Lilah. That wouldn’t make her storm off.”

“I don’t care what she wants,” I snap. I throw my hands in the air. “We don’t get to like each other, okay?”

He is much too laid back for the situation right now. “Why not? I thought we were kind of…hitting it off.”

“We don’t get to hit it off!” The couple beside us turns to watch the drama, but I don’t even care. I’m too pissed to continue being a polite member of society right now. I shove Ezra in the chest, pushing him back a few steps. “I thought you were a good guy, Ezra.”

“I…am…” he says shiftily, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “Lilah—”

I shake my head. “You have a girlfriend. Being on a road trip doesn’t suddenly cancel out being in a relationship back home. How can you even do this to her?”

“I do?” He says with a snort. “Where is this girlfriend? Do I get to meet her?”

My head pounds as everything else seems to stop. “Wait. You don’t have a girlfriend?”

He shakes his head. “Haven’t had one for a while.”

“But your Facebook says you do.”

“That’s because I had a girlfriend a year ago who made the page and wanted me to use it, but I never did.”

All of that shame just turned into straight up embarrassment. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” he says, stepping toward me, that perfect smirk on his perfect lips. “But we can talk about this later.”

I nod.

“Let’s get Cece, head back to the RV, and then maybe talk about us later.”

“That’ll work.” Luckily, the overwhelming panic of missing Cece keeps me from blushing. Deep down I know I should be excited at what just happened with Ezra, but it’s not the time.  “Where the hell is she?”

Ezra squeezes my hand. “We’ll find her.”

His ability to remain calm is really grating on my nerves. It’s taking everything I have not to run around screaming Cece’s name at the top of my lungs.

My phone feels like a weight in my back pocket. Duh. I grab it and call her, watching Ezra while it rings. “Voicemail,” I say after only two rings. “She ignored the call. Dammit.” Gripping my phone, I scan the outdoor area once more. “She’s mad at us. We should never have danced together, Ezra. This is bad.”

Although I’m already panicking, I feel something even worse on the horizon of my addled mind. I’m about to lose it. To really lose it. I need to find Cece now. My fingers shake as I pull up a new text message.

Hey, where are you? You okay?

I’m not expecting an instant reply, and I don’t get one. I can feel a headache coming on, but I push through the pain and make one more loop around the restaurant, nearly knocking over an older woman in the bathroom when I push open the door. I ask our waitress if she’s seen Cece, but she hasn’t. Outside, the Bill Bosom Band is back onstage, and none of their dancing fans are Cece. I push through the patio doors and jog down to the edge of the bayou. Cece’s not in any of the boats. She’s not sitting on the dock like a few other people, and she’s not one of the girls checking out a line of shiny Harley Davidsons parked by the water.

“Lilah,” Ezra says from behind me. I spin around and grab the sides of my head.

“Where is she?” My voice cracks as desperation seeps in.

“I just texted her to meet us at the RV,” he says, reaching for my arm. His fingers slide down to my elbow, a soft gesture before he shoves his hands back in his pockets. “Let’s go wait for her there.”

Reluctantly, I trudge back through the gravel parking lot, keeping my eyes on my shoes in the hopes that when we reach the RV, Cece will be standing there waiting on us.

She’s not.

I lean against the cool metal of the Winnebago and hold my face in my hands. “This freaking sucks.”

“It’ll be fine,” Ezra says. “We’ll find her.”

“And if we don’t?”

He takes my hands. “We will.”

His blind positivity really annoys the hell out of me. I pull away. “You don’t know that,” I say. “You don’t know where she is or who she’s with or if she’s even okay.”

“I know that worrying about it won’t bring her back.”

I grind my teeth and turn away, not wanting to look at him. He’s too handsome and too calm and if I wasn’t swooning on the dance floor I might have seen Cece walk off. What’s worse, is the gnawing feeling in my gut that maybe she left because of that stupid almost-kiss. Maybe she’s mad at me.

Maybe it set her off into another manic mode.

I call her cell again. And again.

Ezra stays outside the Winnebago, arms crossed as he watches me meander throughout the parking lot, looking for my cousin. I send her another text after spending five minutes figuring out the perfect way to word it.

Hey, if you’re mad or something that’s fine. I’m sorry. Just let me know you’re okay?

I make one more lap around the restaurant and the patio, gazing out at the thick woods beyond the bayou. Nothing.

As I’m walking back to the RV, my phone gets a text message. It’s a group text from Cece to Ezra and me. My heart leaps just seeing her name. At this point, I don’t care if she’s pissed. I just need her to be okay.

I’ll meet you guys at the RV soon.

I breathe a sigh of relief and a second text comes in.

I’m not mad at you two dorks.

Ezra gives me the biggest shit eating grin ever when I make it back to the RV. “Told you.”

“Shut up.”

We head into the RV. When Ezra closes the door behind us, I’m aware that we’re alone for the first time since…well, yeah. “She better hurry up,” I say, scratching my elbow. “We might still get home before midnight.”

“We could camp out again,” Ezra says. He must sense that I’m so over that romantic moment we had because he doesn’t try to make a move on me. He just slides into the driver seat. “I don’t mind.”

And it’s not that I’m over the romantic moment. I just can’t focus on two massive things at once.

“I mind,” I say, sitting next to him. In the distance, the band rocks on to a thinning crowd. I wonder how packed this place must get during the weekends. “My parents will be home on Sunday and we have to get back as soon as possible to make it look like we’ve been living there.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I have to heat up and dispose of all the meals we’re missing, then wash the dishes and put them back.”

Ezra quirks an eyebrow. I press that piece of duct tape back over the glove box. “My mom is obsessively organized. She has lunch and dinner planed for us all week while they’ll be gone.”

“Wow,” he says, exhaling. “That’s sweet but a little…”

“Overbearing? Uptight?” I supply for him.

He nods. “I see where you get it.”

“I am not those things.”

“You’re a little uptight.” He taps the top of my shoe with his. “But it’s cute. I know you mean well.”

I look up toward the roof as I slink lower in my seat. “I’m just a product of my mother’s constant therapy sessions and achievement talks. I don’t know how to be some crazy carefree teenager.”

“You were carefree tonight,” he says, gazing at me with that look of his that makes my toes tingle. “It’s a good look on you.”

“And look where it got me.” I toss my head against the back of the seat. “I lost my cousin and I’m still three and a half hours away from home.”

“Relax, Lilah. It’ll be okay.”

“And if it’s not okay?”

Ezra stands. “I promise it will be.”

Above the kitchen sink is a built-in radio that Ezra turns on. He twists the knob until he finds a song and he turns up the volume. It’s an old song, Whitney Houston I think. “Come here,” he says, motioning for me to join him.

This whole thing is a little suspicious, but I join him in the kitchen area. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me up against him, his feet swaying slightly to the music. “What are we doing?” I whisper. Everything feels smaller in the dim light of the RV.

“We’re having a do-over. Pretending we’re back on the dance floor before you shoved me away under the wrong impression that I had a girlfriend.”

“Ah,” I say, as heat fills every inch of my body. “I can do that.”

We dance, keeping close together because there’s not much room in here. Whitney gets all the way to the chorus before Ezra speaks again.

“Do you think Cece was right?” He murmurs against my hair. “About us having a…thing?”

I lift my head, his cheek brushing against my forehead. “I’m not answering that question without your answer first.”

He chuckles. “Why should I go first? I don’t want to be rejected.”

I meet his gaze. “I don’t want to be rejected either.”

Ezra’s hands slide up my waist, his thumbs pressing into my stomach as we sway to the music. “If I kiss you, will that change everything?”

My heart flips upside down. “Yes.”

“Would it be a good thing?” he whispers, his lips so close to mine I can feel a tingle between us.

“Let’s find out.” I lift up until our lips touch. Ezra inhales, his breath cool against mouth. He’s hesitating—oh God, I kissed him and he’s hesitating. I start to pull back, but then he’s cupping my face in his hands, and he’s kissing me. I close my eyes and lean into him, letting my fingers slide up his chest as his lips move over mine. He grabs me tighter, pulls me closer, and we kiss until we both break away for air.

I start giggling, even though it’s so not the right time for that. Ezra grins, his thumb sliding down my cheek. “That was…” he says.

“Fun?” I say.

His grin widens. “I was going to say ‘about time’.”

Heat flushes into my cheeks and I press my forehead against his chest, hoping he can’t sense my embarrassment. I love the feel of his arms wrapped around me, the smell of his shirt, like soap and citrus detergent. “I guess we can safely say we have a thing,” I murmur into his shirt.

When the song ends, a commercial plays and it kind of kills the vibe. But if I’d thought Ezra was cute before, I’m seeing him in an entirely new light after that kiss. He’s sexy and still mysterious, his eyes filled with thoughts I can’t even begin to decipher.

“Want to watch a movie while we wait on Cece?” he says.

“Not really.”

He reaches behind me and turns off the radio. “I don’t either, but it might take our mind off things.”

“I guess a movie would be a better idea than what I was planning,” I say.

“And what were you planning?”

“To sit here and watch out the window for Cece to get back?”

He laughs. “I’m definitely playing a movie.”

He goes to the bedroom area and turns on a small wall mounted television over the bed where Cece sleeps. The theme song for the Simpsons plays throughout the TV’s small speaker. When I look back there, Ezra’s sitting on the bed, his back against the wall, his feet hanging off the end of the mattress. Memories of that kiss still linger on my lips, and I can’t help myself. I walk back there and sit next to him. His arm extends and wraps around me as I cuddle up against his chest, my eyes closing from exhaustion and stress. Homer Simpson’s voice fills the tiny room with some well-timed joke, and Ezra chuckles. I listen to the steady sound of his breathing, his heartbeat going a lot slower than mine. I know it’s ridiculous to go blindly through life expecting everything to be okay. Ezra is insane for thinking that way, but maybe I’m a little insane for freaking out so much. All I know is that Cece doesn’t want to be found right now, but she promised to come back. All I can do is trust her.