Be the Girl

A form hovers inside the Hartford front door as I approach, Murphy toddling beside me, his leash dragging on the ground. I was surprised Emmett told me to bring him for Cassie, given his dad’s allergies, but I guess they can’t be that severe.

“They’re here!” Cassie’s voice carries and then the door flies open and she steps out, her focus going straight for the dog. “Hi, Murph! You’re going to watch a movie with us!” she exclaims, dismissing me entirely.

His tail wags.

“Oh, you’re hurt.” Cassie’s eyes dart from the grocery bag in my hand to my leg as I ease up the porch steps, wincing. “Mom! Emmett! AJ’s hurt!” To me, she demands, “What happened?” Her expression waffles between concern and curiosity, as if unsure which to land on.

“I fell at cross-country. It’s no big deal. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh. Okay.” She nods, reassured, her attention shifting to Murphy again to scratch behind his ear. “Does it hurt?”

“Yes.” I point to my tightened face. “That’s why I’m wincing.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Another nod. A smile. “Was there blood?”

“A bit.” I step into the warmth. The delicious scent of apple pie tantalizes my nose. A candle, I note, with disappointment.

“Can I see?”

“See what?”

“The blood.” She’s already bending over, her hand tugging on my pant leg, intent on pulling it up.

“Cassie …” Emmett stands at the top of the stairs, looking as gorgeous as ever in a fitted black long-sleeved shirt and dark-wash jeans. “Sorry, she has a weird obsession with blood and injuries.” He descends with casual effort, and the candle’s aroma vanishes as the scent of his body wash envelops me. If there is a benefit to all the hockey—besides his honed body—it’s the multiple showers he takes after practices and games.

“AJ hurt her leg,” Cassie announces.

“I know. Hey.” He stops just within my personal space, tilting his head at the plastic bag dangling from my fingers. “We have frozen peas here, you know.”

I shrug casually, hyperaware of his proximity. “My mom bought extra so I could swap them in the freezer.”

“AJ has to put her peas in the freezer!” Cassie’s attention is momentarily on the back of the house, long enough for Emmett to steal a quick kiss.

My cheeks flush, the ache in my knee vanishing with his parting smile.

“Why don’t you guys go downstairs? I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Come on, Murph! Let’s show you the basement. You’re going to like it.” Cassie takes his leash and leads him toward the stairs. “Here, let me turn the lights on for you. Oh, okay, Murph.” Her giggles carry.

“You’re okay with her hanging out with us, right?” Emmett asks softly.

“Yeah. Of course. I figured as much.” Truthfully, it was because I knew Cassie would be with us that I’m relaxed right now. She’s a buffer, until I get used to this thing with Emmett being a reality.

“Cool.” His eyes drift to my mouth a second before he leans down to kiss me again, this time lingering a bit, the tip of his tongue teasing the seam of my lips.

He’s such a good kisser; I could do this all night. But is he thinking the same about me? My heart pounds inside my chest, a potent mixture of intoxication and panic, of lust and self-doubt.

This is exactly why I need Cassie there.

“Emmett told me that you—tripped,” Heather stutters as she rounds the corner, catching the tail end of our kiss as Emmett pulls away. A tiny smile flickers across her lips. “Will you be okay for regionals?”

My face flames. “I think so. It’s already better. I have to keep icing it.”

“I’ll put one of these in the freezer for you.” Emmett leans down to collect my bag, his fingers grazing mine, seemingly unbothered about getting caught by his mother.

Heather’s steady gaze is on her son as he passes her, and I hobble down the stairs.

“Please don’t forget that she’s our neighbor and Merv’s family.” My ear catches Heather’s whisper.

“I know.”

“And Cassie’s friend.”

“Yup.”

There’s a pause. “And she’s only turning sixteen. I don’t know if Debra is going to be okay with …”

Heather’s voice has faded by the time I’ve reached the landing, unable to linger without the risk of getting caught eavesdropping. But I can guess how that sentence ended. The Hartfords are a tight-knit family. Heather and Mark know their kids. There’s no way Heather didn’t figure out that Emmett and Holly were doing it “like rabbits.” Thanks, Zack, for that mental image.

The basement is finished and warm—two things that the dungeon in Uncle Merv’s house is not. On the right is a closed door leading to Mark’s office. Around the corner on the left is a family room with an impressive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall and a lumpy chocolate-brown sectional that has probably catered to a lot of lazing kids over the years. The kind of couch that, once you sink into it, you have a hard time pulling yourself out.

Deep, gray walls, a soft beige Berber carpet, and mismatched tables fill the rest of the space. Furniture that has seen better days—pieces that Heather and Mark won’t fuss over spills and scratches. All in all, it’s the perfect lounging area for teenagers.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Cassie has already burrowed into the corner of the sectional beneath a woven blanket, next to a bowl of Cheetos. Her arm dangles over the edge toward a resting Murphy, her fingers on his head. If ever there was a person who should own a dog, it’s Cassie. I’m sure it’ll be the first thing she gets when she moves out.

Will she ever move out, though?

What will Cassie be like at twenty-one, when she finally graduates high school?

“What movie do you want to watch?” she repeats.

“Oh, I don’t care. You guys can pick.” Because no doubt I won’t be watching a moment of it with Emmett in the room.

“Okay. But not It because I do not like that clown.” She shakes her head with conviction, her face a mask of grim resolve.

I sink into the cushions. “Good thing you didn’t go into the haunted house, then.”





Emmett gently positions the bag of frozen peas on my propped-up knee and settles in next to me. A thrill courses through my limbs, making me shudder.

“Here.” Emmett retrieves a plush blanket from the basket beside the couch and spreads it over my body.

That’s not why I shuddered, though it is chilly down here. “You want some?”

“Nah. I run hot.” He pauses. “Well, maybe a bit.” He edges in closer, until our sides are pressed against each other. “How’s that for your leg?” He juts a chin toward where my ankle rests atop a pillow on the coffee table.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good.” He lifts his arm up and over to stretch out on the back of the couch behind me. He aims the remote. “You seriously haven’t seen Alien before?”

“Seriously.” My body sinks into his, thanks to his weight and our proximity, until I’m leaning against his hard chest. He’s right, he does run hot. And I love it. “Isn’t this, like, old?”

“Still amazing, though.”

“The alien’s not real,” Cassie declares. “Don’t worry, AJ, it’s fake. They’re all actors.”

“Well, that’s a relief. I was worried.” I doubt she catches the sarcasm in my tone.

“Okay, you guys are sitting close.” She tacks on that odd little laugh at the end. But if she’s aware there’s something more than casual friendship growing between her brother and me, she isn’t letting on.

“So are you and Murphy,” I tease.

“Hi, Murphy!” Cassie exclaims, suitably distracted, her cheese powder–coated fingers reaching for Murphy’s nose, earning a lick in return.

The opening credits roll and Emmett adjusts his body, as if to settle into the cushions for the long haul. His free hand slides under the blanket, his fingers curling through mine.





“Let’s watch the second one!” Cassie exclaims as soon as the closing credits appear.