Crap. I don’t know what to call it.

“Parental?” He lifts a brow. “Yes. I do. I love you.”

He climbs into the car.

“Ten p.m. Not one second later,” he orders before the door is shut.

I stay rooted in place, deciding to wait until they’re gone before I make my move. Once the black SUV disappears from view, I shift my gaze to Bobby.

We stare at each other for a moment. Even from this distance, I can see his eyes are lush with a smile for me. It happens. After four months. That flutter in the pit of my stomach when I see him.

He looks good. Fit. Tan. Relaxed. There are more golden sun-streaks in his hair. He’s been surfing a lot. Crap, he even looks happy, and after everything that went down, even I’m not conceited enough to assume it’s only because he’s seeing me.

He just sits there.

Staring at me.

Why doesn’t he move?

I start walking toward him, my heart jumping, and it feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of my lungs. I’m moving, but I’m unaware of anything but him. Everything inside me comes alive all at once, clicks into place in a way that makes it a shock how much of me has felt detached and subdued since I left California.

Incomplete.

I stop just short of stepping into the space made by the V of his legs as he leans against the car.

“Hi,” I whisper. “I wasn’t expecting to find you here. Or do you pick up all your ex-girlfriends at the airport?”

I mentally kick myself because not being obvious just went out the door with what I let slip into my voice, and after four months I should have had ready something more neutral, less bitchy than that to say to him.

He closes his eyes and I wait. Oh no. There is no way I can bear to have him tell me again we’re over…

When his eyes shoot open, everything in them is different. The color is darker, intense, and full of emotion and need. It’s like looking at my own reflection. “No. I don’t pick up my ex-girlfriends at airports or anywhere else. I’m here because you’re here. Where else would I be, Kaley?”

He stares into my eyes and I don’t know what to say.

“Do you want to go somewhere to talk?” he asks.

Talk?

Neither of us move.

He waits, and I swallow hard and nod.

Bobby pushes off the car, moves to the passenger door, and opens it. It doesn’t escape me that he hasn’t touched me.

I sink down onto the passenger seat, and in a few seconds we’re going down a street and I don’t even know where to.

He merges into the lane for the Sepulveda Tunnel. We’re heading toward the coast. Maybe his house?

Once we’re out of the underground section of road, I tilt my face back toward the sun and close my eyes. “So how’s it been in the ’Sades?”

I hear him shift gears. “Quiet since graduation. Before graduation not so quiet.”

Nope, no need to ask him to explain that one.

I’m sure I was the fast moving gossip at PP Academy.

Make a public spectacle of yourself on YouTube.

Then drop out of high school before graduation.

Become an Internet sensation.

Get dumped by the hottest guy on campus.

What’s not to talk about?

“So how was being on tour with Alan?”

Make-do conversation. Impersonal. Safe.

I hate it.

There’s so much in my head and heart screaming to get out. I shrug. “Interesting. Good actually. Learned a lot about my dad I didn’t know before. We got sort of close. Or maybe I should say we made a good start at getting close.”

Bobby’s eyes are serious. “I’m glad something good came out of this.”

This?

Which this?

Fuck, I hope he doesn’t mean us breaking up.

“My dad seems happy. My parents seem like they’re in a good place together.”

“How about you?”

I’m miserable, Bobby. I miss you. “I’m OK.”

“Did you meet anyone? Hang out with anyone?”

A jolt shoots through my body even though Bobby’s voice was so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. I turn my head to face him and open my eyes. “No. Have you?”

“No. Haven’t really been hanging out with anyone since graduation. Not even our old crowd. I’ve just been keeping to myself.”

He turns onto Highway 1.

His jaw flexes.

“Who was that at the airport?”

Bobby’s eyes fix on me then shift back to the road. Jealousy. He’s not even trying to hide it. My mood soars.

“Graham Carson.”

I purposely don’t explain; I wait for him to ask, but he doesn’t.

Crap, that was lame.

A Zoe kind of ploy.

Beneath me.

We never play these kind of games with each other.

I manage a small smile. “Graham was my bodyguard. Went everywhere with me. My dad thought I needed security on tour. Stupid, huh?”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t look at me. “Not stupid. Not with where you were traveling and definitely not with how recognizable your face became after that video and all the press. Thank God all that bullshit is finally dying down. Maybe things will start getting back to normal again here for you.”

There is something in his voice; I don’t know what to make of it.

He flicks the signal and turns down a short road that dead-ends at the shoreline in Manhattan Beach. He hits a button. A ground-level garage door opens on a narrow three-story glass and concrete house.

We pull in, park, and Bobby comes around to open my door. He gestures me forward through a heavy fire door leading to a flight of stairs.

At the top step I pause. The house is small, California casual and trendy, and it looks over the ocean. I cross to the far side and stare out the glass of the patio doors.

Right on the water.

A handful of steps from the ocean.

Maybe he’s been training—competitive surf competitions? Is that what he’s planning instead of college?

Four months without contact; I don’t have a clue what’s going on in Bobby’s mind and life anymore, and before I left I knew everything…at least I thought I knew everything.

This place surprises me.

I turn to find him standing across the room from me, watching. “Whose house is this?”

He shrugs. “It’s just a rental. After graduation I needed a change. Someplace to be alone for a while. The lease is up next month.”

My brows shoot up. “What are you going to do then? Move back home?”

He sinks down on a chair. “No. Not that.” Shit. A feeling of dread contracts my stomach. I don’t like the sound of that. “I can’t. I would have moved out when I turned eighteen if Linda hadn’t asked me to stay through graduation.”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

His expression only feeds my worst fear.

Bobby lets out a huge breath. “Listen, Kaley—”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.

I can hear him speaking, but the words, their meanings, are lost in my fast rising panic. He’s going to say goodbye to me again…

I rush across the room, sinking down on my knees in the space between his legs, stopping his words with the press of my hands. “Please, stop. Don’t say whatever you think you have to tell me yet. Not yet. Let me say what I need to say first. My dad told me I shouldn’t rush after you. Hang back, see how it goes. Even Graham told me I should play it cool. Not be obvious. But I don’t care. I am obvious with you. I always have been. I love you, Bobby. And I can’t take another moment not knowing if you still love me.”

His eyes go wide. “Still? I never stopped loving you, Kaley. You’re all I think about. I love you. That’s never going to change.”

My breathing quickens as everything starts to hit me—being home, being with Bobby, the words he was about to say, the words in my head I haven’t yet said, and the feelings in my heart—and my body is screaming fuck the smart move.

I don’t have to play it safe.

I don’t have to hold back.

Not with Bobby.

I can’t wait a second longer to touch him. I lean in, kissing him with everything in me. My mouth moves, urgent and demanding, against his, and I can feel his pulse going faster and faster. He’s matching my kiss, moving with me.