“I can’t betray Marco’s trust, and Dad won’t believe me anyway. In his eyes, Marco is a thief. Dad will never be able to see him as a victim.”

“Don’t hate me for asking, but are you sure Marco is telling the truth? What if he made up the whole story?”

“He’s not lying, Lex. You have to trust me.”

Worry lines form between her eyebrows. “I think you have feelings for this guy, and it’s affecting your judgment.”

“I need to see him, and I can’t take the chance of doing it at the rec center.”

Lex jumps off the bed and circles the room. “You want me to let him come here? Are you crazy?”

Probably.

I’m crazy about Marco and desperate to help him. It’s impossible to explain, but I know he’s telling the truth. I feel it in every kiss. Every touch. It’s in Marco’s eyes when he looks at me and in his voice when he says my name.

Marco said there was no going back when it came to his feelings for me. There’s no going back for me, either.

“I’m not asking you to trust him or like him. I’m not even asking you to help him. I’m asking you to help me.”

Lex stares at me like I’m standing on that ledge and she’s afraid I’ll jump. “Are you’re falling for him?”

“He makes me feel safe. For the first time in months, I care about the future.”

Marco makes the future feel possible, a place worth imagining. As long as he’s in it.

Lex walks over to her desk and picks up a crystal-studded frame with a picture of the two of us at the eighth-grade dance.

I love that picture, almost as much as I love Lex. I can’t leave her or Abel behind, even if Lex’s blue eyes will always remind me of Noah’s, and so many of my memories of Abel and Lex include him. Even if I have to carry some part of the old Frankie with me so I can carry them, too.

Lex touches the spot where our faces smile from behind the glass. “Sometimes I wish we could go back. You and me and Abel—best friends—eating candy from the broken vending machine at the club and cannonballing into the pool until the old ladies complained. Things are so complicated now.”

I don’t think she’s talking about the two of us anymore. “Do you know what’s going on with Abel? I haven’t had a chance to call him.”

“No, but right now, we’re talking about you.” She sets the frame back on her desk. “I don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve lost so much.”

“That’s why I can’t lose Marco, too.” Saying the words—the thought of never feeling his arms around me again—threatens to break me. “Will you help me?”

“Haven’t I always been there when you needed me?”

I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“There’s your answer. You can talk to him in the pool house. My parents won’t go down there unless the house is on fire. Maybe not even then.” Lex forces a tiny smile that looks sadder than tears.

I jump off the bed and throw my arms around her. “Thank you.”

She squeezes me tighter. “Just don’t get hurt.”

I almost say I won’t, but the situation between Marco and me has hurt written all over it.

I’m okay with hurt.

It’s losing I can’t handle.

CHAPTER 28

DIFFERENT PERFECT

The pool house in Lex’s backyard is bigger than Marco’s entire apartment. Her mom spared no expense outfitting it with an L-shaped sofa and a flat-screen TV, a pool table and air hockey, and a stocked kitchen and full-size bathroom.

In middle school, Lex and I spent hours planning the parties we’d throw here and which boys we’d kiss when we played Spin the Bottle. We only ended up playing once, with Abel and his cousin who was visiting for the summer. After a six-pack of beer and a dozen do-overs, Lex’s spin landed on Abel, and she freaked out and puked in the bathroom before she kissed him.

Right now, I’m the one who feels like puking. I don’t know if Marco will go for my plan.

Perched on the window seat, I hug my knees in the dark, watching for signs of movement near the driveway. The rain plays tricks on my eyes. It feels like forever before I spot Marco’s familiar gait. Strong and lean, hands shoved in his pockets as if nothing can touch him.

I crack the door open, and he speeds up when he sees me. God, he’s beautiful—even with a T-shirt plastered to his chest and rain running down his face.

He stops at the door, and the hunger in his eyes makes my knees weak. I grab his wet shirt and pull him inside. “You’re soaked. How far away did you park?”

“Far enough to keep Lex from getting in trouble.” Marco touches my hips and tugs me toward him, careful to leave just enough distance between us to keep me dry. His fingers graze the skin above the waistband of my jeans, sending shivers up my spine. He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s in physical pain.

I push the wet hair away from his eyes and press my hand against his cheek. “Are you all right? Did something happen?” I search his face for bruises or signs of a fight.

“I didn’t think you’d call.”

“I told you how I felt about you.” My hand slides behind his neck.

“I know. But I figured after you had some time to let it all sink in, you’d change your mind.” He raises his head, and our eyes lock. “You deserve a lot better than a car thief, Frankie.”

I hook both arms around his neck and press closer. The water from his wet shirt and jeans seeps into mine. “That isn’t who you are.”

Marco’s eyes flicker to my mouth, and he leans closer. I lick my lips and he watches, his breath coming faster. His lips crush mine, and our mouths fall into perfect rhythm. He wraps an arm around my waist and picks me up. I lean against the wall behind me and drag his hips closer.

Marco moans against my lips. “What are you doing to me, Angel?”

The sound of his voice ignites a need in me that I never knew existed. With our bodies pressed together like this, it’s impossible not to feel Marco’s need, too. His lips brush mine and he pulls back, leaving his arms draped over my shoulders.

I search his face for a clue that will tell me why he stopped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Would it sound crazy if I said this was too right?” His voice is raw and deep.