That Boy: A Small Town, Friends-to-Lovers Romance (That Boy Series Book 1)

I’m lying on the hammock in my backyard, drinking a Diet Coke and flipping through a People magazine. I’m trying not to think about my parents. Trying to pretend it’s just a lazy spring day. Unfortunately, I keep expecting my dad to come out on the patio, bottle of beer in hand, with Mom following him, wanting to hear all about prom.

Life can really suck sometimes.

But I don’t know what I can do about it.

I’ve been feeling really helpless. And a bit lost.

Like I was a little boat that was tied up on shore with all the other boats, but somehow, my rope came undone, and now, I’m out in the middle of the ocean, no land in sight, just floating. Completely untethered to the life I’d always known.

I told Mr. Diamond that, and he pretty much called bullshit.

Told me my parents did so many things for me so that if, God forbid, something like this happened, then I would be able to keep my house, go to college, and stay with my friends, my support system. He told me they were extremely well insured, and I would be okay financially. He told me that he was here for me and that all my friends were here for me but that I had to officially grow up now. I have to handle the things my parents always did, like making sure the house gets cleaned and the lawn gets mowed and the bills get paid. He said, as much as the Macs were trying to protect me, I was eighteen, and I needed to behave like it. He said my parents raised me to be strong, confident, and independent and that I should do my best to make them proud of me.

And, at the time, I was thinking, Okay, maybe I’m not the little boat; maybe I am more like that game we used to play when we were little. Jenga, I think it was called. You stack up all these blocks, and you try to pull them out of the stack, one by one. When the stack gets too weak or you pull out the wrong one and it gets out of balance, the whole stack comes tumbling down, and you lose.

I sorta feel like that is what has been happening to me. Some cosmic force has been pulling out random blocks, trying to get me to cave, to fall down.

But here’s the thing I have decided.

My parents wouldn’t have wanted me to fall down. So, I’ll be damned if I do.

But that doesn’t mean I’m still not incredibly, earth-shatteringly sad.

The gate rattles as Danny walks into the backyard.

“Hey,” he says, his hair blowing back in the breeze. He naughtily dives on the hammock, nearly flipping me over and making me scream in the process.

I lean over to kiss him, but he backs off.

What the hell?

“Jay, we need to talk.”

Great. One date, and he’s breaking up with me. Not that we were going out, but you know what I mean. Someone, somewhere, is laughing hilariously, shoving around the blocks of my life.

“Look, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have drunk so much. I really wanted you to enjoy prom, and I hope you still had fun.”

“I did have fun, and I really appreciate your begging me to take you,” I joke, but then I say seriously, “I don’t think I would have gone otherwise, and I’m glad I didn’t miss it. I have been sitting here, thinking a lot about my parents, and I think you were right. They would have wanted me to go.” I laugh, “Although Dad always said you were trouble. I wonder what he thinks about me going with you.”

“Your dad loved me.”

“Yeah, I know.”

I want to say, I love you, too, but I’m afraid he’ll take it wrong and think I’m like in love with him. And, yes, he is super hot and sweet, and I wished for a long time that I could be with him, but I’m not sure if I have much to give right now. And, if I’m going to have a relationship with Danny, trust me, giving is what I want to be doing.

I can tell by the look on his face that there’s still something wrong.

What now?

“Something else is bothering you,” I say. “Spill.”

“Jeez, Jay. You just have me so, uh, overwhelmed,” he says as he runs his hand through that gorgeous hair.

“What do you mean?”

“I just didn’t expect to feel this way about you.”

I’m trying not to ask too many questions. I mean, something is clearly bothering the boy, but I’m sorry, I’ve got to ask this one.

“What way is that?”

“Too much. Way too much. And way too fast. Which brings me to my problem.”

Uh, scratch that. I have plenty to give. I don’t see a problem with this.

No problem at all!

But I think I know what the problem is. He feels bad because he passed out last night. I still haven’t decided which one of us should be more embarrassed about that. Him for passing out or me for getting passed out on. But I’ll tell him that we can soon. Heck, we could go in my house right now and do it if we wanted to.

“Danny, it’s okay. You …”

“Jay, this is hard for me. Just let me finish, okay?”

I nod with my mouth shut.

“Okay, so here it is. You know how I worked hard during spring practice and performed really well in the spring game and the guy who was the starter last year did really badly?”

“Yeah.”

What’s this got to do with us?

“Well, I haven’t said anything, but I’m pretty sure I’ll be first on the depth chart this fall.”

It takes a second for that to sink into my brain.

“You mean, like, the starting quarterback at Nebraska? Danny, that’s awesome! It’s huge! It’s what you’ve always wanted, what you’re meant to do.”

“You think so?”

“Uh, yeah. Greatness is in you. Don’t you know that?”

Danny oozes confidence.

“Maybe, but, well, here,” he says shyly.

And he is never shy.

He fishes a folded-up piece of paper out of his wallet and hands it to me. “Look at this.”

I unfold the paper and see it’s a picture of me—in my flag bikini top, no less—jumping up to catch a pass with Phillip just behind me.

It’s a really great picture of us.

Weird. I don’t usually photograph so well.

“Where’d you get this?” I study the picture closely. “Hey! This is from that day in Lincoln when you pissed me off enough to run down the field in my bikini top in front of half the football team. Right?”

“Yeah.” Danny laughs, remembering. “You told me if I missed you that time, you were coming back for my pants.”

“I was serious. Where’d you get this picture?”

“Oh, it seems one of the school paper’s photographers found you to be a very interesting subject,” he says with one eyebrow raised at me, like he finds this very humorous. “He took a ton of pictures of you and gave me a few of the best. This is my favorite. Oh, and I was supposed to tell you that he wants to go out with you.” He shakes his head at me and teases, “You’ve grown up to be quite the little heartbreaker.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Look at the picture, Jay.”

I do.

“It’s a fun picture. I love the look on Phillip’s face.”

“I mean, look at you. You look gorgeous. Perfect.” He lies back on the hammock, pulling me down with him, and says, “You are also looking at my goal. Perfection. Wanna know what I see in the picture?”

I nod.

“I see a perfect pass, a perfect catch, and two perfect friends. When I first went to college, I wasn’t throwing well. Probably trying too hard instead of just doing it. But I couldn’t figure out what was wrong, why things weren’t easy anymore. I talked to the team shrink, and he asked me if I’d ever used positive visualization. Of course I had. In B-ball, Coach K was always telling us to picture ourselves making every shot before we went to sleep at night. In fact, our team motto was, If you can dream it, you can do it. And, in high school, whenever I was flustered or out of sync, I would just picture myself throwing to you or Phillip in the yard. It relaxed me. I realized I hadn’t been doing that or having much fun playing lately. He told me to focus on a time when I had thrown a perfect pass and to picture that in my mind when I started to get out of sync.”

He pauses and points to the picture in my hand.

“This is the picture I visualize. When I think of us playing catch, I relax and have fun with the game. I’m on target.”

I raise one eyebrow at that boy. “All the millions of times we’ve played catch, and I have to be in a bikini in this visual? Isn’t there something kind of sick and twisted in that?”

“Maybe.” He laughs. “I’ll never forget the first time Phillip and I saw you in that bikini. You had been lying out, and you were covered in oil. I think I had to bribe you to come play catch with us. But, man, when you walked through that gate in that bikini, glistening in the sun, Phillip and I both just stood there in shock. I think it was the first time I really realized you were a girl—a hot girl.” He smirks at me. “Well, and maybe a bit during your kissing lessons.”

“Lesson,” I remind him. Only one.

“I know I was jealous when you asked if we thought Jake would like the bikini. If I remember right, Phillip practically told you it looked awful. He didn’t want you wearing it for Jake either.” He pauses and grins. “I kinda have a thing for that bikini and, well, the American flag in general now, as a matter of fact.”

He catches me by surprise and pulls me into a wonderful, sweet, and way-too-short kiss. He shakes his head at me, like he just can’t decide what to do, and says, “Last night, I, um … God, this is way harder than I thought it would be.”

I am about to make a naughty joke about what might be harder than it should be and suggest we maybe check it out in my bedroom. But, as I am about to open my mouth, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me again, and for once in my life, I don’t say a thing.

I am so proud of my restraint.

Maybe I will reward myself with some chocolate later.

We lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, for a while before he speaks again, “I think you’re awesome, Jay.”

I hear a big but coming …

“But I don’t think we should date.”

I knew it.

“Why?”

He sighs. “Part of me thinks we’d be great together, but I know we’d fight. You know how we fight.”

“Yeah, I know how we fight.” I laugh. “Danny, I don’t understand. You love a challenge. Why do you always date girls who worship you? Where’s the challenge in that?”

“There isn’t one; that’s the point. I have enough challenge in other areas of my life. With the girls I date, I just want simple, smooth, and easy.” His hand goes out in front of him, making a calm water gesture.

“Easy to get along with or just plain easy?”

“Both is good.” He laughs. “But, either way, not words I would use to describe you. Oh, I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “A lot could happen. But I do know this. If we dated, it would ruin the picture. Probably ruin my game.”

Football. There’s the real reason!

Doesn’t that just suck?

Then, he adds sweetly, “But, most importantly, I’m afraid it would ruin us. I love you, Jay. I love our friendship”—he shakes his head and closes his eyes—“and I really, really, don’t want to do anything to screw it up.”

Figures.

The one nice guy I try to date is too nice.

Thank God he passed out last night, and we didn’t have sex.

“Danny,” I say diplomatically, “in the last eight days, I’ve gotten dumped by my boyfriend for a slut, buried both my parents, and”—I smile at him—“just recently learned one of my best friends has a sick perversion for me. I really don’t think I could handle a relationship right now.”

I’m totally lying. I could so handle a relationship with Danny. Well, I think I could. Really, I don’t know. But I let him off the hook because I don’t want to ruin our friendship either. I seriously don’t know what I would do without him and Phillip.

Especially now.

He kisses me on the cheek and gets off the hammock, being careful not to tip me. “You know you love me.”

“Yeah, I know. And you’re damn lucky I do.”

’Cause he is.

“Here’s a thought,” he adds seriously.

“Yeah?”

“You’d be good with Phillip.”

And, with that, he leaves.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?