“There was no way he could ever be my hero when his first words to me were a command to keep things quiet.”

“His dark eyes challenged me. They were weapons that could hurt me. Here was the worst thing about them: I could tell that if Johnafter loved you, his dark eyes would be beautiful and friendly and warm. So every time he cut me down with a look that was cold and unfriendly and ugly, it was a double insult, a reminder of what I could never have. I found myself avoiding his dark eyes when I could.”

“And ever so faintly,I could hear Josh rapping to his posse's beat.I couldn't make out most of what he was saying, but I thought I caught the word prepubescent.”

“Nick ran smack into me."Ooof!" he hollered, grabbing me around the waist to keep me from falling down the rest of the staircase.That's when I realized Mom thought Nick and I were going on a date together.Quickly Nick let me go.He looked huge, frowning down at me from the step above. "Why are you stopping in the middle of the stairs?""Why are you tailgating me?"He put his hand behind me, at butt level, without touching me. "What is that?" he demanded.I bent a little and slapped my butt, "Something the heir to a meat fortune should know all about. USDA grade-A prime,baby." I straightened. "Just kidding. Really, it's my butt."He put his hands on his hips, and from below I noticed his strong superhero chin again.He grumbled, "Why do you have 'boy toy' written across your butt?""Oh!" I put my hand over the words, realizing that I probably should have been embarrassed about this sooner. "These are my brother's jeans. He wrote it to annoy me. Or to get me a date.”

“He nodded to my fiddle case. "Why didn't you come play with me?" Immediately he rolled his eyes at himself. "That's not what I meant."I didn't point out that if he was constantly hearing double entendres in his own words, he had a dirtier mind than he wanted to let on. Sam having a dirty mind was okay with me. It was adorable, actually, as long as his mind was on me.”

“He let go and stood back,eyeing me.I could tell he didn't want to say anything to destroy my confidence,but he was afraid he'd created a monster."Don't worry.I'm ready to play the game." I nodded solemnly."One more thing," he said. "If you do fall-"I cringed. Some pep talk!"-If something terrible happens,you still won't lose everything.Now you have good friends,and nothing will ever change that.You're not that girl.""Oh,Nick." I threw myself at him,literally. He wrapped me in his arms and brushed my hair aside to kiss my forehead again.I squeezed him hard,then drew away and punched him on his padded arm. "Go ahead,and don't break a leg.”

“He cupped my chin with his big hand and watched me. He breathed hard through his nose. His shoulders heaved way harder than they should have after a few minutesof kissing. I was about to suggest some additional conditioning exercises before football season started. I opened my mouth to tell him.He kissed me again. His tongue passed my lips and played across my teeth. We’d only been kissing like this for a week, but it seemed very natural when I kissed him backthe same way. My body was on autopilot as I reached blindly for his waist and dragged him even closer, his torso skin-to-skin with mine against the tree. Who were we? Iwas turning into any of the assorted older girls who’d been seen leaving the cab of Sean’s truck at night. I’d always viewed those girls with a mixture of awe and derision.Sexual attraction was funny. Lust was hilarious.Now, not so much. Those girls had my sympathy, because I totally got it. I ran my fingers lightly up Adam’s bare back.He gasped.I opened my eyes to see if I’d done something wrong. He still touched the tree, but his muscles were taut, holding on to it for dear life. His eyes were closed. He rubbedhis rough cheek slowly against mine. I had done nothing wrong. He was savoring.I knew how he felt. Tracing my fingernails down his back again, I whispered, “Stubble or what?”Eyes still closed, he chuckled. “I’m not shaving until our parents let us date again.” He kissed my cheek.“What if it takes… a… while?” I asked, struggling to talk.”