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IT WAS SAFE TO SAY THAT AUGUST WAS DISTRACTED. How could she not be when her mind was playing that kiss with Tyler on a loop in her mind? And he was acting like everything was fine.
After he and Boone had changed into the spare clothes they kept at her house — she had clothes at their houses too — Tyler just crawled into her bed and had the nerve to fall asleep with one arm around her and one around Boone who was on his other side.
But all she could think about was the kiss and how gentle his lips had been against hers. Think about the way he held her and how it felt to have him pressed up against her. It was so perfect, and she was dying for it to happen again.
But August wasn't near bold or brave enough to ask for it. And Tyler knew that about her, so the ball would be forever in his court.
Not to mention that the kiss made her sad too. Because it wasn't fair to her feelings for Boone. She'd always feel the exact same things for him that she felt for Tyler, and something in her heart was hurt over the fact that something had only happened with Tyler.
Her brain was telling her that it was only right to make things even.
But she'd then remind her brain that she'd always been a coward when it came to those two boys, and so she'd just keep going on as she always had, content to be the best of friends if they didn't want more.
Finally, when her thinking was just too much, August slipped out of Tyler's arms — his warm, strong arms — and crept out of her bedroom and to the kitchen, very thankful her parents slept on the second floor so that she wouldn't risk waking them.
She stared into the backlit refrigerator for a long while, not sure what she wanted. Finally, though, she settled on the carton of orange juice, which she grabbed before shutting the door.
Only to startle when she saw Boone right behind the door she shut. It was a miracle she didn't scream or drop the juice as he smiled sleepily at her.
"Gotcha," he teased before rubbing his tired eyes. As he then yawned, August slyly slid her gaze across his body.
The problem with constant sleepovers with Tyler and Boone was that the boys didn't like sleeping with shirts on. So, there Boone stood, bare-chested with a plaid pair of pajama pants hanging from his hips.
This was the last thing she needed after kissing Tyler.
"You ain't funny, B," she huffed while hitting his chest with the carton.
He chuckled quietly and took the carton from her. Then, after she got two glasses down, he poured them for her.
"What are you doing up?" August asked, glancing at the clock on the microwave that signified it was just past two in the morning.
