Then Collin points to me and says, “And what about this one? She your girlfriend now?”
Bo glances over at me and says, “This is Willowdean.” He turns back to his friends. “And I’m working on it.” Then he takes my hand. He holds my hand. Right there in front of everyone. I am equal parts thrilled and mortified.
A few of his friends whistle as he says bye and we walk to his truck. Hand in hand.
We sit in his car, waiting in line to turn out of the parking lot. “What was that about?”
He brushes his knuckles over his chin. “I told you I wanna do this the right way. And I’m done keeping you a secret. I didn’t even mean for you to feel like a secret in the first place. I was—I don’t know. Sometimes good things happen to you at the absolute worst time. You were a good thing, Willowdean.”
“What about Bekah?”
“What about her?”
“Aren’t you guys dating?”
He scoffs. “Hardly. We went out a few times.” He pauses. “Okay. I guess we kind of dated. But I was trying to get over you. Or maybe make you jealous. I don’t know. And I didn’t expect for you to be all over that jock, so I guess I was the jealous one.”
“Mitch. His name’s Mitch. He’s not that guy. He’s my friend.”
He doesn’t respond for a minute. “Is he anything more than that?”
“No,” I say, like I’m shocked by the idea.
I feel his gaze on me.
“I don’t know.” Oh God. Of course we’re more than friends. At least to him we are. And maybe sometimes for me, too. “Technically, we’re not anything. But he wants more.”
“Do you want more?” he asks. “With him?”
“I—I don’t know. Usually, no. But I haven’t really said so.” I twist a piece of hair around my finger. “But what about you and Bekah?” I shake my head. “It’s never going to be the right time for us, Bo.”
“I haven’t told Bekah we’re not dating if that’s what you’re asking.”
“So, what? You were going to leave her hanging?”
“It’s not like we’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”
“Well, neither were we,” I tell him.
Jerking the wheel, he turns off into a random alleyway and puts the truck in park.
He unbuckles his seat belt and moves toward me. “I want more,” he says. “I want more with you. I want to hold hands and you not ask me why. I want to drive you home from work and give you a kiss good night. And talk on the phone so late we fall asleep.”
I bite down on my bottom lip to stop it from quivering. There are so many reasons why we are a bad idea. We have a track record—real bona-fide proof. If I were to shake my Magic 8 Ball, I can almost guarantee that it would tell me, Outlook not so good.
But Bo is undeterred. “You didn’t know me last year, Willowdean. I’m so glad you didn’t. I was a dick. All I cared about was getting out of this place. I fucked up with you this summer. I know that. And I’m not letting you go again. I’ll talk to Bekah and be one hundred percent clear with her. There won’t be any misunderstanding.”
“It’s not that simple, Bo. Maybe it is for you, but not for me.”
He narrows his gaze. “This is what I want: I want you to be my girlfriend. I want to put a label on this. I want everyone to know exactly how I feel about you, Willowdean. I think that sounds pretty simple.”
I shouldn’t, but I move to kiss him. My nerves hum, and this moment when my body feels both chaotic and determined is what was missing with Mitch.
He pulls back. “I want your answer first.”