Breakdown (Crash into Me) (31 page)

 

 

There are few things in this life better than fruity desserts.

Maggie O’Reilly understands this just as much as I do. Like her only son, she has a sincere appreciation for the desserts I create with them. Which was why I was happy to volunteer to do dessert for the Fourth of July and—just maybe—go a little overboard in the process. I had known William’s sisters and mother for about four months, and although I was assured they liked me (loved me even), I still occasionally felt the need to prove something.

So in addition to the orange cake and cherry pie, I had grilled peaches for a sour tort. On top of that, miniature cheesecakes had been topped with strawberries and blueberries for a patriotic feel and strawberries had been covered in white chocolate and blue sprinkles in a similar fashion. If everything came out the way I hoped, maybe I’d send a picture to Mom and Dad. I’d already wished them a happy fourth, but considering Mom had only just started talking to me again I thought some extra communication couldn’t hurt.

“Lottie, will you come out here already? It’s too hot to be in that kitchen!”

The sound of Cora’s voice made me stand on my tippy toes to look out the screen window. Under the umbrella on a worn out picnic table sat Cora, Ashlyn and Maggie. Meanwhile, too impatient to wait for the sun to go down, William, Finn, and Cora’s now fiancé Connor were playing with sparklers. Pie in hand, I watched them for a minute and laughed. If I thought William was perfect in California, he was even more perfect in Massachusetts. His smile was more pronounced around his family, more dedicated somehow, and once the spring came around his blond hair became even lighter, making him look more like a surfer boy than a criminal.

“Hey, hey, Jumper!” William called to me. “Come and see this!”

I shook my head and laughed before headed down the small stairwell that led outside. Despite the surprise that the O’Reilly family seemed to know about me before I even left for Boston, William was the only one who still called me Jumper there, and I was the only one who called him William. And even though months had passed, it still put flutters in my stomach when I thought about it.

“There you are!” William ambushed me the second I set foot on the grass. Taking the platters from my hands, he set them in the shade and palmed his hand in mine. In vain, I tried to pull up the brim of his sunglasses and wipe a smear of sunblock from his forehead, but he pulled me along.

I laughed along with him, my eyes already spotting the display of duct-taped sparklers that the boys had put together. Struggling to light a match, Finn swore loudly enough to get Maggie’s attention and she called out to all of us.

“Don’t you boys go and burn that lovely young lady!”

As usual, William called back and waved her away. “Don’t worry, Ma!”

William released his hand from mine and stepped behind me to wrap his arms around me instead. Instinctively, I stepped back with him, laughing when he said, “Keeping you out of trouble is a full-time career.”

I frowned and tried to look at him from the corner of my eye. “How do you expect me to have any fun without trouble?”

Declan must have got the match lit because the tower of sparklers went off, crackling in the sunlight.

William grinned into my ear, his thumb intentionally but subtly stroking my abdomen. “I’m sure if we put our two heads together we could think of a few things.”

I squeezed him tighter against me. “There’s no doubt about it.”

Though it was easily ninety degrees, I shivered. “For example, what do you plan on doing with the rest of those strawberries?”

Laughing, I kissed the bottom of his chin. “I’m sure my syrup deity will help me think of something.”

 

 

 

A native of New Jersey and lifelong nerd, Amanda Lance recently completed her Master in Liberal Arts at Thomas Edison State College after her BA in English Literature and AFA in creative writing.

She currently resides in Easton Pennsylvania with her boyfriend and their spoiled hound dog. She is a cliché booknerd who is terrible at math, clinically obsessive, and prone to addictive behavior. She may or may not be a recluse.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

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