Page 5 of Rumor Has It

“Must be nice.” I quirk my brow, walking up to his side.

He frowns. “What’s that?”

“Having a girl to do everything for you.” I giggle when he gigs me.

“You know, if you’d hush that mouth, we’d be done by now and on the road.” He reaches around me, grabbing a wrench. My breath hitches when a shiver runs down my body.

“You can always go without me or”—I drop and lay back, ready to slide under the car—“try to shut me up.”

He grabs my ankles and holds me in place. I raise slightly, peering up at him. “Will there ever be a day you’ll let me win?”

“Probably not,”—I lift my shoulders—“but would you want me too?”

He shoves me forward, grumbling, “Probably not.”

Boone can do all of this on his own, but he’s been coming here for years with his dad, and I’m not complaining. He assists me, handing me everything I need before I can even ask for it.

Truth be told, the car doesn’t need a thing, but we both use it to make our getaway plans. It started a few months ago. We ran into a few of his friends from school and decided we’d leave town from now on.

“Question.” I slide out from under the car after finishing the maintenance. I gaze up at him, caught in a trance when he smiles at me. I fight my fears daily, wondering if this will end before it ever gets started.

“Am I going to regret answering it?” He holds his hand out for me, smirking.

“Yep, you usually do.” I slap my grease-covered hand into his with a smile.

“Seriously?” He blinks. “You better be glad I like you, or you’d pay for that one.”

“I’ve always loved the look on your face when you get dirty.” My cheeks flush with the thought of getting dirty with him, and I quickly change the subject. “You ever going to tell me where your parents think you’re going tonight?”

“Out with friends.” He averts his eyes.

I lean over, checking out my handy work. “That’s a mess. You might want to clean it up.”

“I’m going to have to go home, grab my stuff, and clean up some.”

“Not surprised, pretty boy.” I giggle, studying his face when something knots in my belly. “So they know?”

He jerks a towel off the table, wiping his hand with it. “I told them where we’re going. I just left out who was going.”

“Oh.” My heart drops, along with my mood. “I wasn’t thinking. I mean, I tell Maisyn.”

“You tell Maisyn?” His mouth hangs.

“Yes, I tell her everything.” He starts picking up the tools and putting them away with a little more gusto than necessary. “Is there something wrong with that, Boone?”

“I suppose I thought this was between us.” He half shrugs. “You know, our thing.”

“Do we have ‘a thing’?” I ask without meeting his eyes. He worries me with this telling or not telling someone, and it makes me wonder if he’s ashamed to be seen with me.

“We’ve been friends since we were eight-years-old.” He nudges me. “Yes, we have a thing. Don’t you think so?”

“I thought so, but I suppose it’s just not something anyone else can know about?” My voice quivers when the one topic that divides us comes up—people knowing we hang out. I can’t shake the thought he doesn’t want anyone to know, ever.

He stiffens. “I never suggested we keep it quiet.”

“I was fourteen; middle school girls are vicious.” I pick at my nail, trying to avoid his stare. “Girls decide on a different outfit at least five times before they leave the house, can’t I change my mind once in a while?”

“Kenzie, anytime you want people to know we’re…” He hesitates, not knowing what to call this between us. “…close, I don’t care to tell them. Hell, I’ll shout it from the roof tops!”