I laughed―probably louder and harder than I should have, making the trio turn back toward us.

“Emma!” Sara scolded, chuckling. “Stop. She’s going to think we’re talking about her.”

I continued to smile, keeping enough distance between the two groups so we wouldn’t be overheard. “I’m sure she knows we’re talking about her.”

“She’s way too excited for my taste. Like a pathetic puppy dog.”

“If she’s too excited for you, then that’s an issue.”

“A huge issue,” Sara laughed. “And if she touches Evan one more time, I think I may have to take her out for you. Why aren’t you bothered by it?”

“Oh, I am,” I told her. “I just thought I was being a stupid, jealous girlfriend.”

“You’re not,” she assured me, but that only made me feel worse. “She needs to take those big brown eyes of hers and back the fuck off.”

“Sara! Omigod!” I laughed. Sara joined me.

“What’s so funny?” Evan asked, stopping to wait for us to catch up.

“Sara,” I stated with a smile, like that was the only explanation needed.

Evan grabbed my hand, and Sara quickened her pace to catch up with Jared, sliding her arm through his. Analise, being the odd person out, continued along the trail, feigning interest in the tops of the trees to avoid looking at us.

Evan slowed down as we neared a bend, allowing the rest to disappear before stopping completely. “Hi,” he smiled, vanquishing the jealousy that seared under my skin. He leaned down and sent my heart into convulsions with the touch of his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for way too long.”

“I’ve needed you to do that for way too long,” I breathed.

"How are you after last night? I heard about the argument at the game." He studied me intently.

"It's hard to watch," I admitted. "I have a feeling they're on the verge of breaking up, and I don't want her to get hurt."

"I know," he said, kissing me softly. "Well, it's good to get away from the tension then." I nodded. Evan squeezed my hand and we continued along the trail. This was exactly what I needed, despite Analise’s presence.

"Can I ask you something?" Evan climbed up next to me on a rock after handing me our lunch.

"Sure," I answered, unwrapping the sandwich.

"What was that sweater thing all about the other night?"

I stopped mid-bite, not having considered how it may have looked to Evan. I pulled the sandwich away and said, "It was a misunderstanding." I took a bite, and Evan waited for me to continue. Before I even thought about what I was saying, I added, "It wasn't my sweater."

"Oh," Evan replied, dismissing the subject as he unwrapped his sandwich and began talking about how we both had one more game next week before the championships.

I forced another bite out of the sandwich, having lost my appetite. Lying made my stomach volatile. I didn't know why Jonathan had my sweater. But for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to tell Evan that.

We returned to the car just as the sun was hiding behind the trees. Evan and I sat in the back with Analise. I made certain to sit in the middle. She really was nice, truly. But it was so very evident that she had a thing for Evan, and I wasn’t going to pretend to be oblivious.

I nestled in under Evan’s arm, resting my head on his chest. I breathed in his clean scent swirled with the mustiness of the outdoors and closed my eyes. He kissed the top of my head and played with my fingers, running his through mine and lightly drawing circles on my palm. I let the tingling of his touch lull me to sleep.

I looked at his face as he held my hand, walking with me along the beach. He hadn’t shaven for a few days, making him look like he should be camping, not collecting seashells with his daughter. The ocean air ruffled his dark brown hair but his smile was permanent, making the lines along his eyes crease, like they were smiling too.

I held the pail in my hand, swinging it lightly. My eyes flit everywhere except the ground―the birds darting along the shoreline pecking at the sand, the dark rolling water crashing into the rocks, then back to my father’s face that looked so relaxed and peaceful.

“There’s a good one,” he said, stopping to bend down and pluck a white pearly shell from the sand. “What do you think of this one, Emma?” He held it up for me to inspect.

I took the shell in my hand and ran my fingers over its smooth surface.

“It’s perfect…” I looked up, but he wasn’t there. I turned around, searching, but I was alone.

“Emma?” the smooth voice whispered in my ear. “Emma, we're home.”

I blinked my eyes open in a panic. I was still wrapped in Evan’s arm, but the empty car was quiet and dark. I inhaled deeply, and stretched to sit up.

“I wish I could've let you sleep,” Evan said softly, still holding my hand in his. “You looked so peaceful. You haven't been sleeping much, huh?"

"Not really," I admitted. "I can't believe I slept the entire car ride. Did everyone leave?"

"Sara and Jared are inside."

He opened the car door and held it open until I stepped out.

“Wanna sleep over tonight?” Sara asked when Evan and I entered the kitchen door.

“Of course,” I answered, deciding I’d already witnessed way too much strife between my mother and Jonathan, and I didn't want to be there for whatever was about to happen tonight.

After saying our good-byes, Sara followed me to my house. Seeing Jonathan’s truck in the driveway, I parked along the street since I planned to leave my car at the house. I just needed to run in to grab my books and clothes for the next day. For a moment, I considered jumping in the SUV with Sara and forgetting about my things―having no idea what I was about to walk in on―but I had assignments due that I couldn't leave behind.

“I’ll be right out,” I told Sara before jogging up the walkway. I stopped at the front door and hesitated. I couldn’t hear voices; I could only hear music. I assumed they were in her room since the downstairs was dark.

I took a deep breath and slowly opened the door, planning to slip in and out so they didn’t even have to know I was there. I closed the door and concentrated on the stairs. I just need to get my things and I’ll be gone, I kept thinking over and over.

I clenched my teeth as the loose board squeaked beneath my foot halfway up the stairs. I froze, listening. A caressing voice came from the speakers, filling the entire house, but then I heard… a moan? I held my breath as I slowly turned on the stairs.

The breathing became louder. There was movement on the couch. I focused in the dark and my mouth dropped as the intertwining of legs came into view. I remained frozen, unable to look away, scanning the length of his body. His muscles rippled above her as she gripped his back. Her eyes were closed as her mouth rounded.

A moan escaped him, releasing me from my paralysis. I practically flew down the stairs and out the front door. I ran to Sara’s SUV and slammed the door behind me, panting.

“What’s wrong? Where’s your stuff?” Sara asked in a panic.

“I couldn’t…” I huffed trying to catch my breath, the image seared into my brain. I tried to shake it away, but I couldn’t.

“Are they fighting?’ Sara asked, her tone anxious.

“No,” I replied adamantly. “They are not fighting.”

“Omigod,” Sara gasped. “No way. You didn’t just walk in on…” She started laughing in amazed disbelief.

I flopped my head against the head rest. “Yup,” I breathed, “I guess they didn’t break up.” Sara laughed even harder. I looked back at the house as we drove away―an uneasiness washing over me.

23. Boundaries

“Feeling any better?” Sara asked at breakfast the next morning. Her parents had already left for work, so it was just the two of us.

I shook my head, still haunted by the compromising position I’d caught my mother and Jonathan in the night before.

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to look at either of them again,” I groaned. Sara laughed, overly amused by my trauma. “Sara, I saw his ass, his naked ass―on top of my mother! I may seriously need to go back to therapy after seeing that.” I flopped my head onto my folded arms.

“I bet he has an amazing ass,” Sara mused dreamily, the smile consuming her entire face.

I peered up at her, appalled, with my cheeks scarlet. My reaction only made her laugh harder.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this hard since you tripped in front of those college guys in California.” Sara held her stomach.

“You love seeing me tortured and humiliated,” I sulked. “Great friend you are!”

“Stop,” Sara chuckled, unable to hide her smile. “It is funny, really.”

“Walking in on my mother and her boyfriend, sure, it may be horrifyingly hysterical. But he was supposed break up with her. This is so not good.”

“They made up,” Sara offered with a shrug. “Couples fight and make up all the time. What's the big deal?”

"He's leaving to go to grad school at USC," I explained. "My mother's in love with him."

"Does she know?"

"Yes," I told her, "but she wants to be with him until he leaves."

"Why is that so bad?" It was obvious she didn't understand my concern.

"I'll be gone when he leaves," I continued.

"And you're worried about her being alone?"

I nodded, biting my lip to keep the tears from forming. It ate at me in the pit of my stomach, fearing what my mother would do in her isolated misery. I didn't want her to have to go through it without me.

Sara and I stopped by the house first thing in the morning to pick up my books. Thankfully, the house was empty. I avoided my mother and Jonathan that entire day, staying in my room, out of their sight.

And I thought I'd timed it perfectly when I left for school the next morning, emerging from my room right after my mother had pulled out of the driveway. But as I headed down the stairs, I heard the refrigerator door close and realized Jonathan was still home. I paused in frustration―he was never home when I left for school.

I kept walking down the stairs and straight out the door, shutting it behind me just as I heard him call, “Emma!”

I picked up my pace, not wanting to see him, forget about talk to him. Jonathan stepped out the front door with a coffee in his hand and a laptop bag hanging from his shoulder. He glanced in my direction as I unlocked my car, hesitating slightly. When I avoided eye contact and slipped into my car, he continued to his truck.

I turned the key in the ignition and… nothing happened.

“No way,” I grunted, pumping the gas and turning the key again. The car didn’t even make an attempt to start. I collapsed in my seat, banging my hands on the steering wheel.

Jonathan braked at the end of the driveway. I remained in my car, ignoring him, grumbling profanities under my breath. This was the last thing I needed this morning.