Page 38 of Save the Last Dance
Mack tried to take that as a cue to leave, even reachingfor the stick shift to back up the car. He’d met her tonight out at the football field because she’d asked him to. They’d cleared the air about Jenny and put another piece of the past to rest. He should consider that progress. But with the liquid fire of attraction still simmering in his veins after that kiss they’d shared, he couldn’t just leave it on that note.
“Meaning you’re not interested in Kaleb,” he clarified. “And as for you and me, we only agreed on no kissing, at least for tonight.”
He might not be able to offer Nina a long-term relationship. He knew how she felt about family. Kids. But they were here together now and he wasn’t the only one experiencing this attraction.
“Um, belatedly. But yes, I suppose I eventually came to my senses and made the safer choice.” She hugged her arms around herself and watched him with wide eyes.
If he had his say, neither of them would be thinking about safer choices the next time they sat alone in a car parked under the stars. He wanted to share a blanket with Nina Spencer again and remind her how good they could be together—for whatever however long they had left.
“Do me a favor, though, and keep the dinner invitation in mind. You can even consider it rationally, if you prefer.” He checked his rearview mirror and forced himself to be disciplined where she was concerned. “Just please…think about it.”
“You’re going towin, Ally.” Ethan whispered the words in Ally’s ear as they sat together in the grandstand at the Heartache Fairgrounds, surrounded by the rest of their classmates. They were waiting for the Harvest FestivalCommittee to choose one of the students’ designs for a straw maze they’d submitted as part of a math class competition.
“No, I’m not,” she whispered back, still surprised that Ethan Brady wanted to hang out with her a week after their first “sort of” date. He’d taken her to the local corn maze for inspiration for their math project. He hadn’t kissed her, but he had definitely been looking at her differently since then.
If not for The Incident at the salon the day before that, her life would finally be looking up even in spite of her new weekly appointments with a psychiatrist. But as it stood, she felt suspended between happy and worried, afraid every minute that her secret would get out and that Ethan would discover she was seeing a shrink. Or worse, that he’d find outwhy.Her healing cuts started to itch as she thought about them and she squeezed the gray cuffs of her hoodie to reassure herself the marks were hidden.
“Are you kidding me?” Ethan leaned away from her to study her face. “Your maze design is by far the best. I have no idea how we ended up in the same class because you’re, like, a million times better at algorithms than me.”
Ally’s face heated despite the chill in the air. She’d never told Ethan about the fact that she’d only let her grades slip to get her parents’ attention. She was starting to realize having a relationship with him—if he really did like her that way—might not be easy when she’d hidden so much from him.
“Not really. I was just inspired when we took that trip to the corn maze. That was a good idea.” She hoped reminding him of a fun day would distract him from the math thing. “But I don’t think the committee will pick my design because it’s got too many nooks and walls. It’d probably take way too many hay bales to make it.”
Ethan flipped a lock of dark hair out of his eyes. “Like there’s a lack of hay in this town?”
She knew he still resented the nonstop chores of farming and living the lifestyle his family had imposed when they’d started their organic food co-op and market.
In front of them, two guys who were friends with Ethan turned around. “Dude, they’ll pick her design either way because she’s a Finley,” one of them said as he lifted up his sunglasses to look at Ethan. Then, his eyes cut to Ally. “No offense or anything, Ally, but isn’t your father practically running the Harvest Fest?”
“Not this year, he isn’t.” Embarrassed, Ally wished she could slink down between the grandstand seats while they waited for the committee’s decision. The conversations around them grew louder as the class grew restless.
“But it’s still your family that’s organizing it, right?” the other boy chimed in, glancing up from his phone.
“I guess.” Regretting ever entering the contest, she hoped now she didn’t win since her class would think the committee chose her because she was a Finley. “I know they’re helping out with some stuff.”
The two boys exchanged a look.
“Hey. It doesn’t matter.” Ethan slid an arm around her shoulders while their math teacher, Mr. Cummings, headed to the grandstand stage. “We all know Ally’s design was the coolest. It’s got turrets.”
He smiled at her, somehow making everything right with the world in spite of his friends and in spite of the fact that Rachel Wagoner sat three rows down in all her beautiful blond glory. She hadn’t so much as given Ally a funny look since that day in the salon, but it was hard not to worry about her when she could spill Ally’s secret at any time. For now though, Ally could only focus on the feeling ofEthan’s fingers splayed along her back. Her heart beat faster.
“You know where I got the idea for the turrets?” She wished she had Ethan all to herself again for a few hours. Hanging out with him last weekend had been perfect, but the other parts of her life always seemed to interfere.
She was more certain every day that she wanted to leave town with him, even though her counselor kept talking about her “plans” after school. She felt a little guilty when she thought about how much time she’d spent on early college applications. But she could always go to college later.
“Um…video games?” Ethan guessed.
Just then Mr. Cummings finished up his conversation with a woman near the stage. Their teacher strode back toward the class.
A ripple of excitement went through the fifty kids on the old wooden bleachers as kids shouted out things like “Who won?” and “Just tell us!”
“No, not video games.” Ally’s stomach knotted just knowing that Mr. Cummings was about to say the winner’s name. “I thought of the turrets after we saw those apple-picking contraptions on the farm with the corn maze. It’s too bad you don’t have those apple pickers around the peach trees. It’d be a lot faster to get all the branches picked.”
The farmers had designed a picker with elaborate wooden stairs and platforms on big rolling carts so that whole families could climb up to high trees and pick their own apples. The pickers had been stained and varnished, with little round roofs over the highest levels.
“Yeah,” he muttered. “So I can be the next Tennessee farmer filling bushel baskets for fun on the weekends.”
His hand slid down her back and off, but shewasn’t sure if it was because he hadn’t appreciated the comment about picking peaches or if it was simply because Mr. Cummings had reached the foot of the bleachers where the students were clamoring for news.
