He grinned back at me. "Whatcha doing in my truck, Dolly?"

"Oh, you know, just hiding." I shrugged. "And you gave me the spare key, remember? Which is more than fair considering you spend more time at my house than I do."

He cocked a dark brow. "What are you hiding from?"

"Would it sound incredibly dramatic of me if I said the world?"

Daryl shrugged and climbed into the passenger seat beside me and tossed my rogue pencil onto my lap. "Only if you didn’t mean it."

Smiling, I studied his freshly showered appearance. "You smell nice this morning."

"You smell like me this morning," he shot back, turning in his seat to look at me.

"Is that new cologne?"

"Nah, borrowed Rourke's spray."

"Oooh," I taunted, scribbling down another piece of my homework. "Got some poor misfortunate girl in school that you're trying to impress?"

He laughed. "You know I only sleep in your bed, Dolly."

My cheeks flamed and I made a conscious effort to keep my nose in my book. "Uh-huh."

"So be real with me for a sec," he said, snaring me with those damn green eyes. "What are you hiding from?"

"Full disclosure?"

"Always."

I blew out a heavy sigh. "I am hiding from the stares and whispers that have been following me around since I reconnected with the most popular guy at school."

Daryl brows furrowed. "Ain't that Rourke?"

I shook my head. "Nope – although he's a strong contender for second. Rourke's their prince, but you?" I whistled. "You're their king, D."

"Shut the hell up," he chuckled, looking mildly appalled by this piece of information.

"It's true." Grinning, I leaned across the console and patted his stubbly cheek. "Mister popular."

Chuckling, he captured my hand in his. "And what are the crowds whispering about, Dolly?"

"Oh, you know, I said breezily. "What do I have that they don’t? How amazing my non-existent gag reflex must be. How I must get on my back for you 24/7. The usual mundane, not to mention shallow as hell, gossip."

"Damn." Daryl muttered, stroking his lip. "All of that talk and I've never had the pleasure of testing out your gag reflex."

My cheeks flamed red and I poked him in the side. "Behave."

"Believe me, Molls," he laughed. "I'm trying."

14 Daryl

"Obsessed much, Molls?" I teased from my perch on her bed, as Every Avenue's Only Place I Call Home played on a loop from her iPod speaker.

"Damn straight," she agreed, not bothering to deny it, as she rummaged through a box of old photographs and junk from our childhood that she had asked me to bring over. "This is my all-time favorite song… oh my god –" she paused as she pulled an old notebook out of the box and flipped it open, "I can't believe you kept this, D."

"What?"

"This." She waved the notebook around front of her. "I made this friendship book for you when I was eight."