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PROLOGUE

Oakley

Eleven Years ago

Desmond’s warm, sweat-slicked arms wrap around me—the touch somehow having a fucked-up direct line to my nervous system and making my body go out of control.

The football drops from my hands, and I stumble and fall to the sand—partially because the whole point in him grabbing me was to tackle me—but also because my pulse is going too fast, and my stomach is bouncing around like popcorn kernels surrounded by heat.

“Got you,” he says, in that deep, rich, but playful tone that I’ve gotten used to over the past two weeks since I met him on our family vacation to the beach. Well, what used to be our family vacation, until my mom left us. Now it’s only Dad and me trying and failing to figure out who we are as a family without her.

We’ve hardly spent any time together at all. It was his idea to still come, yet any time I try to make plans, he just wants to stay inside; hence me going out alone and meeting Desmond.

What are the odds of running into a guy who loves football as much as I do? Someone as chill and fun to be around as Desmond? We’ve hardly been apart the whole time. If he hadn’t come, then I probably would have spent this vacation alone.

I met him the first day. The houses my dad and his parents rented are next door to each other. I’d been sulking around because I was bored and sad. Not only is this our first vacation since Mom decided she didn’t love Dad anymore and also left me, but it’s the first vacation we’ve gone on without my girlfriend Serena’s family in three years—ex-girlfriend, I mean. Our parents are best friends…were best friends? The dynamic is weird now without Mom. Serena and I started dating at fourteen, as soon as we entered high school. We broke up a couple of weeks ago, and even though I know it was for the best, it still feels weird that she’s not my girlfriend anymore.

Weird that I lost my mom and her so close together. At least Ree is still around. She’s my best friend and always will be.

“You good?” Desmond asks, and I realize I’ve been lying here, wrapped up in him, sand covering our bodies without saying anything.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I scoot away, and he lets go easily. The popcorn machine doesn’t stop going off within me, though; my insides are all jumpy and floaty in this way I’m still trying to make sense of. It’s the way I felt when I first started to fall for Serena, so it makes no fucking sense why that shit is going on now—with Desmond.

With a guy.

Desmond sits up beside me, sand still sticking to his rich brown skin. Our arms brush, and warmth skitters up through my shoulder and into my chest, making me pull away just slightly.

“You thinking about your girl?” Desmond asks. I’ve told him about Ree. How she was my first girlfriend, my first and only everything, and how I’d broken up with her, but I missed her. I should have been thinking about Serena just then. I should be thinking about her now, but I’m not—at least not in that way.

I’m thinking about him. How easy he is to talk to, how much fun I’ve had with him, how I’ve connected with him in a way I never have with anyone else.

The way he makes me jittery inside.

“Ex-girl,” I say, rolling the football around in the sand. The words make me feel strange. I’m not sure why I broke up with Ree, only that things hadn’t felt right anymore. When I finally told her, I discovered she felt the same.

Desmond shifts beside me. It’s evening, and we only have two days left of vacation before I head back to Ohio and Desmond goes home to Florida. Before Dad and I have to keep figuring out who we are without Mom, who seems to be fine without us.

“You want her back?” He lies down in the sand, and the pull is too great, too strong to ignore, so I do the same. The beach is quiet this evening, only a few people here, and we’re at least a mile away from the houses.

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. Ree is great. I miss her. Does that mean I want her back? Everything is all jumbled up right now.

“You’ll figure it out.” He pushes up onto his elbow, lying on his side facing me. He smells like salt water and honey, which is another weird-ass thing to be thinking about another dude. What the fuck is wrong with me?

My breath hitches when Desmond reaches up, and I nearly flinch when his hand stops against my cheek, but he just laughs and says, “Sand,” before trying to wipe it away. “Fuck. I just made that shit worse.”

“You think?” I ask, trying to pretend my heart isn’t beating a hundred miles an hour.

Why the fuck is that happening?

“Come on. Let’s rinse off in the water, then go grab some dinner.”

“Race you.” I shove to my feet, Desmond doing the same. We’re both competitive as hell, and for some reason, I’m even more competitive with him than anyone else.

I run toward the ocean, Desmond right on my heels. He’s fast. I don’t know many people as fast as me, but then, it’s my job to keep up with guys like him on the football field—to cover them and keep them from getting the ball.

Desmond is a wide receiver, and I’m a cornerback—one of the best high school players in the country.

We both manage to fall into the water at the same time, Desmond splashing and trying to dunk me.