“I do,” I said, meeting his eyes so he could see the sincerity in mine. “I just don’t want this to be the first thing they see.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

Amelia hopped down from the truck. “I am going to get us donuts before Cooper gets here. I sense this is going to be a long morning.”

Amelia walked to her car parked on the street, then climbed in and drove away. The second her car rounded the corner Jackson said, “Are you going to come give me a hug or do I have to come up there?”

My cheeks went warm. “I wasn’t sure if . . .”

“If what? Did you not tell Amelia about us yet?”

“No. I told her.”

“You did?”

“Should I not have?”

In three big steps he was up on the platform and in the bed of the truck with me. I let out a yelp of surprise but then threw my arms around him.

“I thought I’d wake up this morning and find out you put the truck back perfectly in its place and wanted to not only pretend you hadn’t driven it, but pretend nothing had happened at all.” He interlaced our fingers together and leaned up against the side.

“When I came home last night everything looked eerily perfect at my house. Exactly the same and it felt so wrong. This mess I’ve made is a nightmare but at least it represents how different my life feels now.”

“Are you scared?”

“Terrified.”

He kissed me then, bringing our linked hands behind his back, pulling me closer to him. He tasted like toothpaste and pulled away too fast.

“I don’t know how long I can stay before my mom wakes up and remembers she grounded me last night.”

My eyes were still closed from the kiss. “You don’t have to go yet.”

He gave a breathy laugh, then his lips were back on mine. The truck tipped a little, not fully balanced on its perch. I let out a gasp and Jackson pulled back.

“Is it going to fall?” he asked.

“No. Amelia and I tried all sorts of counterweight maneuvers on it last night to get some traction. It’s pretty much wedged here. It’s just teasing us.”

His eyes turned worried. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Worse-case scenarios?”

My shoulders tensed up and I cringed. “Let’s not think about those right now. Let’s just fix this.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I started to say, but then said, “My shoulders. I haven’t swum in a while. They’re stiff.”

He moved his hands to my shoulders and began rubbing them. “Do you think that maybe your shoulder pain has less to do with swimming and more to do with stress?”

“There does seem to be a correlation.”

“Maybe instead of working on conditioning them, you need to work on de-stressing your life.”