Page 6 of One Night Rebellion
That's when I spot something new—a bright yellow lemonade truck parked under the old oak tree by the gazebo. There's already a decent line forming, which is saying something for a Tuesday morning in Bellehaven. The hand-painted sign on the side reads "Sweet & Sour," and I can smell fresh lemons from here.
And standing about three people ahead in line, wearing cutoff denim shorts and a soft pink tank top that shows off her tanned shoulders, is Addie.
My feet are moving before I can talk myself out of it. I slide into line behind her, trying to play it cool even though my heart's doing something stupid in my chest. She's got her hair pulled up in a messy bun, exposing the length of her smooth neck.
"Fancy meeting you here," I say, keeping my voice low enough that she has to turn around to hear me properly.
When she does, those eyes of hers go wide for just a second before that familiar smirk curves her lips. "JT? Are you following me now?" She gets out of line and comes back to stand next to me.
"Maybe I just have excellent timing," I counter, shoving my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her. I rock back on my heels. "Besides, looks like half the town's here. This must be some good lemonade."
"It's new," she explains, turning slightly so we're facing each other instead of the truck. "Opened last week. Jenny Morrison'sdaughter started it—you remember Jenny? She used to work at the bank? Used to give out the best peanut butter bark when you'd go through the drive-thru."
I nod, though I'm not really focused on Jenny Morrison or her daughter. I'm focused on the way Addie's lips move when she talks, and how the morning sun is catching the gold flecks in her eyes.
I ask as the line moves forward, "You've been here before. What should I get?"
"The strawberry lemonade is incredible," she says, and I watch her tongue dart out to wet her bottom lip. "Sweet with just enough tartness to make your mouth water."
Christ, is she trying to kill me? Because the way she's looking at me right now, combined with those words, is making me think about a lot more than lemonade.
"Sounds dangerous," I manage, my voice coming out rougher and deeper than it should, considering this is my high school best friend's little sister.
"The best things usually are." She turns back toward the truck, but I catch the way her cheeks flush pink.
We move forward in comfortable silence, but I can feel the tension crackling between us. When it's her turn to order, she gets a large strawberry lemonade and steps aside to wait for me.
"Large regular lemonade," I tell the teenager working the window—must be Jenny's daughter. She's got her mom's blonde hair but looks nervous as hell to be serving the growing crowd.
"That'll be eight dollars," she says, and I hand over a ten, telling her to keep the change.
When I join Addie off to the side, she's already taken a sip of her drink, and there's a small drop of pink liquid clinging to her bottom lip. Without thinking, I reach out and brush it away with my thumb.
The moment my skin touches hers, she goes completely still. Her eyes lock with mine, and I can see her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. For a second, I think she might lean into the touch, but then she steps back, putting space between us.
"Messy," she says quietly, but her voice is breathless when she speaks.
"Yeah," I agree, though I'm not talking about the lemonade. "Messy can be good sometimes."
She takes another sip, this time more carefully, and I do the same. The lemonade is perfect, tart and sweet and cold, but all I can focus on is watching Addie's mouth against the straw. The way her lips pucker around the tip. I'm thinking about her lips being wrapped around something else.
"So," she says after a moment, "what brings you downtown this morning? Besides stalking me at lemonade trucks?"
"House shopping, actually. Meeting Malcolm and my dad and Troy this afternoon to look at a place. I just didn't want to sit around the house waiting. Thought I'd come down here and see what's happening. The furniture store always has good deals.”
Her eyebrows raise. "You're serious about staying then?"
"Dead serious." I take a step closer, lowering my voice. "This is home, Addie. Always has been. I just needed to go away for a while to remember that."
Something shifts in her expression. "And what made you remember?"
"Honestly?" I reach out and tuck a strand of hair that's escaped her bun behind her ear. "Coming back and seeing that although some things have changed, lots have stayed the same."
She looks like she wants to say something, but then my phone buzzes with a text. I check it quickly. It’s Malcolm saying he's heading to the house early if I want to meet him there.
"I have to go," I say reluctantly. "But, Addie?"
"Yeah?"
