Page 12 of The Summer We Played Pretend

“It might be, but I think you need to, Chlo.”

She scowls at me for a while then sighs. “Do you have to be right all the time?”

“All the time.”

With a deep breath, she pushes up from the bed. As she stands, her elbow catches the edge of the tiny table by her bed, sending a ceramic thing bouncing off the surface and ricocheting between the windowsill and the table before cracking into dozens of pieces and scattering across the carpet.

“Shoot!” Chloe jumps back, her nearly landing on a shard.

“Stay put,” I command, and as she’s balancing on one foot, I scoop her up into my arms.

“Jackson!” she squawks, her hands instinctively circling my neck.

Briefly, I think about how warm she is pressed against me and how smooth her legs are. I swallow hard, step across the mess, and deposit her on the other end of the bed.

“Don't move,” I order. “You'll cut your feet.”

“You’ll cut your hand,” she warns as I kneel down and pick up all the broken shards, then deposit them into the trash can.

“Hope it wasn’t special.”

“I didn't need that thing, anyway,” she tells me. “Mom never lets me burn candles after I singed a hole in the carpet last month.”

“You’ll need to vacuum in case there’s any more shards.”

“Yes, Dad.” Chloe smiles and rolls her eyes. “Thanks for rescuing me.”

“Anytime, Chlo. I mean it.”

“Are you sure you want to play hero again and see me probably embarrass myself in front of Brendan?”

“I want to see the asshole squirm when you confront him, yes.”

“I guess I have no choice then.” Chloe stares at me for a while, then lifts her brows. “Are you going to just stand there while I get changed?”

Shit.

“Uh, no. Right.” I thrust a thumb toward the door. “I’ll just—” I leave the room quickly and stop at the top of the stairs in case her mom is in the living room. The last thing I need is Mrs. Davenport asking me why I look like I just escaped a fire. I can feel heat in my face and hands like I’ve been scalded, and I have been, I guess.

I’ve been trying so hard to fight what I’ve been feeling for Chloe. It was easy, you know, when she was dating Brendan. I was able to shove her to the back of my mind.

But now I just found myself picturing Chloe getting naked, and I’m pretty sure there’s nothing more wrong than picturing your best friend’s little sister naked.

Chapter Six

Chloe

As I slide into the passenger seat, Jackson gives me a once-over. My heart gives a little sickly thud, and I feel my body freeze up when he nods toward my bare legs.

“Cute skirt.”

I blink a few times. “What?” My heart starts up again, firing rapidly.

“Cute skirt,” he repeats.

“It’s not too, uh, slutty?”

He gives a dry chuckle. “Since when are yellow flowery skirts slutty?”

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