Page 1 of Under My Skin

1

LIZZIE

“Wow,it hasn’t changed one bit, has it?”

“You meanhehasn’t changed one bit,” my painfully blunt best friend, Lia, corrects me.

“No, I meanit.” I eye her seriously. “Am I not supposed to look at a David Beckham-level ass? I mean, it just gets better and better with age. All of him does. It would be a crime not to look.” I make sure to move my hands wildly while explaining this so she understands just how serious I am.

“You do realize this is stalkerish behavior, right? Which is saying a lot coming from me since I don’t really have boundaries.” Lia flips her long blonde hair over her shoulder and gives me a look like she can’t believe I’m behaving this way.

She has a point. We have been staring at the man who has played the lead role in every fantasy I’ve had since I was twelve years old for quite a while.

It’s been twelve years, and it feels like it was yesterday.

It was the beginning of summer vacation. He had just graduated from college and came home looking like the epitome of an all-American boy. He was just starting to put some bulk on his otherwise lean body. His dark brown hair was shaggy and a little too long, and his skin was tanned from countless hours in the sun.

He always had a huge ear-to-ear smile for everyone he came across, and it always reached those warm brown eyes. Deep pools of chocolate with little flecks of gold. The kind you could get lost in if you’re not careful.

Even after being drafted into the NFL and on the verge of making it big, he still came home, spending as much time as possible with his dad and younger sisters before training camp started. He made a point of helping on the farm and driving his sisters around town. He’d stop to make small talk with my parents, and shoot me a wave whenever he caught me staring from my treehouse.

So, I fell headfirst into my—probably very unhealthy—crush on Cameron Dylan. My decade-older next-door neighbor. College football star. Future NFL pro.

Who is now back in town.

“Are you even listening to me?” Lia snaps me out of my trip down memory lane by bumping my shoulder. We’re both still huddled next to the front door window watching my perfect man move back into his childhood home after all these years.

“Yes, I am, and you’re right. It is creepy, but this is as close as I’ll ever get to enjoying him, so can you please let me have some fun?” It comes out a bit more defeated than I meant to.

“Lizzie, you would need to say more thanHiandSorry for your lossfor him to even know you’re interested in him. I mean, back in the day when it was a teenage crush, the hearts in your eyes when you looked at him might have given it away eventually, but men don’t always pick up on that stuff. You need todosomething now.”

Lia moves in front of the window and starts waving her arms around excitedly, trying to draw his attention to us. I quickly snatch her away and contemplate wringing her neck and hiding her body in the backyard.

“What are you doing?”

“What? He’ll either think you’re totally creepy for lurking around or that your not-so-secret crush is still going strong after all these years. Which, if I’m being honest, Liz, he’ll probably think is also creepy, but maybe he’ll think it’s sweet and finally asks you out,” Lia remarks dryly.

I watch the window for a second as Cameron walks into his house, his muscles bulging from hauling boxes in from the moving truck.

“Lia…It’s like you don’t even know who you’re talking to right now.” I sigh. “He would never go for me. I mean, look at him and look at me.” I point at myself, and all I get in return from my best friend—maybeformerbest friend soon—is a dramatic eye roll and a huff of annoyance.

“One day, and hopefully soon for everyone’s sake, you’re going to see the beautiful, funny, smart, sassy, young woman everyone else sees.” Lia’s shoulders sag, almost as if she’s exhausted, like convincing me of my own self-worth is a full-time job she’s been working overtime at.

It’s not that my self-confidence is low. I’m cute, in a girl-next-door way. I choose comfort over fashion. People call me the town sweetheart, which goes to show I’m not exactly the kind of woman Cameron Dylan dates, based on the ones I’ve seen him with over the years on social media.

My brown hair is usually thrown up in a messy topknot or braided down my back, and I’m covered in freckles that no amount of makeup will cover up. I mostly wear overalls, baggy jeans, or leggings and tank tops. I’ve always felt like my look reflects what I do for a living.

I’m an artist. I make one-of-a-kind, handmade pottery. Dinnerware and decorative pieces, like vases, pots, and bowls. I’m pretty good at it, too.

A few years ago, an art collector discovered one of my pieces in a shop in downtown Des Moines, Iowa, which is about an hour and a half east of my small town of Brantley Falls. Now she’s my agent and commissions me to make custom pieces for her gallery in Chicago that go for more than I ever imagined.

I’m lucky to spend my days doing what I love and making a killing at it. Part of it goes toward funding my studio in town, where I offer free workshops to kids on the weekends and during the summer break to give parents a reprieve.

Most importantly, though, it allows me to stay in Brantley Falls. I love my hometown, and I’ve never once thought about leaving. It has all the charm and nostalgia that a small town should offer while still keeping up with modern times and continuing to grow.

A lot of the residents still farm, like my family, who has grown corn here for the past forty years, and the Dylan farm. But while we may have started out as a farm town, we’ve evolved into so much more, and I’m proud to be part of it.

Maybe I’m a girl with modest dreams, but all I’ve ever wanted was to create my pottery, fall in love, start a family, and live happily ever after. All in this town. So that’s what I’m doing.

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