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Mia snapped her fingers, zapping Georgia and me out of our trances. “Ladies, focus. Do you know him?” She stuck her hands on her hips, her white jersey top lifting above her black shorts to expose her belly ring.

I bobbed my head. “Yep.”

“Well,” she said. “Who is he?”

He’s the boy next door who makes my palms clammy, my belly tingle, and my brain a pile of mush.

Colton Caldwell stood with his brown eyes wide, frozen in place as though someone had stopped time. He looked like a Greek god, taller, brawnier, and dreamier than I remembered. His wavy brown hair was longer than before and skirted his shoulders. His thighs were thicker, his arms more muscular. Instantly, the butterflies in my stomach took flight, flapping their wings, wild and crazy.

Holy cow!

Georgia was telling Mia all about Colton as he strutted up to me, his swagger screaming hot.

“Skye?” My name rolling off his tongue was pure heaven, and he smelled like sandalwood as he towered over me.

I considered myself tall for a female at five foot seven, but Colton was well over six feet.

I was going to faint.

With his long fingers, he took my right hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you. Can I take a look?”

He could do whatever the hell he wanted to me.

My chest rose and fell as I struggled for air. At any moment, I was afraid I might throw myself at him or run my hands through his thick, damp hair.

Breathe, a quiet voice in my head urged.

Mia and Georgia’s voices were muted even though they were tittering and chatting about the statue state I was in.

“You should get this cleaned up,” Colton said in his smooth, delectable Southern accent. “I think I have a first-aid kit in the truck.”

I sighed. I would need more than a first-aid kit to break the magical spell he had on me.

“Are you back for your senior year?” Georgia asked Colton.

“Something like that,” Colton replied, not looking at Georgia but at me.

I was hypnotized by the one guy who could tell me the Earth wasn’t round, and I would believe him.

Locks of his hair fell forward, creating a curtain around his strong, angular jaw, shielding us from everyone near us. Suddenly, I felt as though he and I had been transported to a secluded place, where it was just the two of us.

My heart pitter-pattered at a rapid rate.

“Come with me,” he said.

Georgia grabbed my skateboard, her pink painted lips splitting into a brilliant smile, her eyes alight with mischief. If anyone knew how I felt about Colton, it was my bestie. She and I used to sit on my porch and watch him cut the grass. We were lowly freshmen then, as was Colton, but man, he’d been the hottest guy in school.

Mia said something, but I tuned her out as I followed Colton like a puppy. He led me to the passenger side of his truck.

Most guys in school drove trucks—in the South, souped-up trucks were like Mercedes cars. The girls in school—the rich girls, anyway—drove expensive convertibles. I didn’t keep track. Dad had an old Toyota that was officially mine since he couldn’t drive anymore, but frankly, I preferred to get around on my skateboard.

I finally swallowed the dryness in my throat and attempted to speak. “So…”

Colton opened the glove compartment and took out a first-aid kit. “I stopped at your house earlier. Sorry to hear about your dad.”

And just like that, the lust tethering me to him snapped. A rush of sadness blanketed me.

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