“Why?” I paused as something occurred to me. Maybe my charm wasn’t failing me. Holy shit, how had I not thought about this before? “You got a hot date tonight?”

She laughed dryly. “Uh, no.”

Part of me was happy to hear this. The other part was thoroughly confused. “You sound like that’s an insane idea. That no one would go out on a Saturday night for a date.”

Shrugging, she dropped the piece of hair she’d been messing with. “I’m not dating anyone.”

I walked on, tapping my hands off my thighs as the breeze stirred the cornstalks, causing them to rattle like dry bones. “So why the rush?” When there was no response, I glanced over my shoulder at her, grinning. “Are you worried that I’ve brought you out here for my own nefarious plans?”

Shortcake stopped, her face paling in a way that made her freckles punch out. “What?”

Whoa. I faced her, feeling the knot back in my chest and something else. Her reaction was too quick, too real. A bad taste filled my mouth. “Hey, Avery, I’m just joking. Seriously.”

She stared at me and then averted her gaze, cheeks flushing. “I know. I’m just . . .”

“Jumpy?”

“Yeah, that.”

I hoped—fuck, I prayed—that was all this was. Watching her fiddle with the bracelet on her left wrist, I couldn’t let the train of thought go any further. Anger over the possibility of something fucked up in the most minor way happening to her was already pricking at my skin. I was sure I was overreacting. “Come on. It’ll be dark soon.”

I started walking, heading toward the tower, waving at two students from our class. Picking a spot on the hill overlooking the dirt lane, I pulled out a flashlight before I sat down. The grass was dry and in that stretch of silence, the hum of crickets was almost as loud as my pounding heart. I had no idea why my pulse was racing, but it felt like I’d run from the truck to here instead of walking.

Looking up, I found Shortcake hovering a few feet behind me. I patted the spot. “Join me? Pretty please? I’m lonely all by myself over here.”

She sucked her lower lip in between her teeth, and the muscles in my stomach tensed. Finally, she moved forward and sat . . . three feet from me. My brows rose, but then . . . then our gazes collided, and I took a breath, but it didn’t get really far. How many freckles did she have on the bridge of her nose? Nine. No. Nine and a half. One of them was faded. Her lips were parted, like she was waiting for a kiss.

The urge to kiss her hit me hard in the gut. Was it the first time? When I wiped the crumb from her lip, I had wanted to kiss her then, to taste those soft-looking lips. Any other girl I would’ve made a move, but not Shortcake.