No Love Allowed (Dodge Cove Trilogy #1) (16 page)

So, standing with nine other girls in a circle and Caleb at the center, she cleared her throat. She needed to be loud enough for him to hear her. Natasha stood behind her cousin and placed a
silk scarf over his eyes, tying the ends at the back of his head. Then she tested him by making faces. Caleb merely rolled his shoulders and neck like a fighter waiting for the bell, oblivious to
his cousin’s antics. Nathan, meanwhile, cued up the stopwatch on his phone and shouted, “Five minutes!” as if Caleb needed a reminder. The taunt earned Nathan the finger.

Didi bit the inside of her cheek to keep the laughter in. The girls had to stay quiet until the game officially started. To add more of a challenge, Natasha spun Caleb in place three times. At
his third rotation, Natasha let him go, and the game was on.

All ten girls called out Caleb’s name. None of them could approach him. Didi rocked on the balls of her feet, saying his name over and over again. For what seemed like an entire minute, he
didn’t move from where he stood. He tilted his head one way, then the other. The flutters in her stomach intensified, radiating from inside her belly to manifest as goose bumps on her
skin.

Even as she said his name, she mentally willed him toward her. Not because of the bet. Not for all the art supplies in the world. She genuinely wanted him to find her; she wanted to see if he
could pick out her voice from nine other girls.

“Caleb!” His name sounded shrill to her ears. The excitement in the air was getting to her. Like a drug, she drew from it, charging her senses to the point of overload. The sunset
seemed brighter. The leaves seemed greener, the sky bluer. The air sweeter. She took all of it in like electric shocks running beneath her skin.

At the two-minute mark, Caleb still hadn’t moved. She was at the end of her patience. Her excitement had reached a painful peak in her chest. When she called his name again, he tilted his
head toward her.

That was when everything changed.

As sure as the sun rose in the east, Caleb turned toward her and walked with confidence until he reached her. Without removing the blindfold, he lifted her into the air. Her squeal turned into
giggles. He had found her. Whistles and catcalls rained on them.

“You’d better be Didi, or I’m genuinely screwed,” he said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

“Good thing.” She yanked off the scarf so she could drown in the blue of his eyes. “How did you do that?”

“I have my talents.” He grinned, blinking repeatedly as if to clear his vision.

“You totally cheated!” Nathan accused when he reached their side.

Caleb shook his head, never taking his gaze from her face. “I told you. I can find her in under five minutes. What was the time?”

“Just under three,” Nathan grumbled.

“Be ready to pay up.” His eyes burned bright. “I’m taking my girl shopping.”

His girl.

Those words haunted her for the rest of the afternoon until the sky darkened enough for the fireworks. The party winding down did nothing to alleviate the critters of energy crawling beneath her
skin. Nothing seemed to calm her racing heart. She knew she needed to come down, but she didn’t want to. The conviction in Caleb’s words had worried her. She suspected he hadn’t
been playacting when he had said them.

When he insisted they walk along the lakeshore, she didn’t resist. How could she when he looked at her like she was the only girl at the party? The way the blue of his eyes seemed to shine
almost like liquid metal twisted her insides. She let him take her hand. They left their shoes on the grass. The water reaching her ankles cooled her too-hot skin. Today had been too much. More
than all the other events combined.

The first spear shot up into the sky. Reaching its peak, it exploded into spider legs of light. Caleb stopped and looked up. She did the same. The next spear quickly followed and spread like a
dandelion. The third one popped and sparkled. A kind of choreography emerged. A symphony of blues and whites and reds interspersed with dazzling gold. Soon the entire night sky lit up, blossom upon
blossom of pyrotechnic light. The show drew enthusiastic
oohs
and
aahs
while children clapped and laughed.

Since leaving her painting room, he had been different. Less guarded somehow. She couldn’t explain the change exactly.

Then, at the height of the show, he faced her. Cupping her cheek, he ran the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. Her breath hitched. She knew she shouldn’t. That giving in would be
reckless . . . for the both of them. But she tilted her head up in response to his touch. This was the biggest mistake they could make in their fake relationship. She saw it in his eyes too, yet no
one spoke of rules when he bent down and took what she offered.

He kissed the way he smiled when he looked at her, slow and easy. Gentle but still demanding a response. And respond she did, tasting the tartness of the raspberry iced tea he’d favored
all afternoon. He cradled the back of her neck, tracing the line of her jaw with his thumb as if he wanted to remember its shape.

When he took her bottom lip between his teeth, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to keep from falling. For a first kiss, amid the fireworks exploding above them, it was amazing. Each
pass their lips made tugged at her, begging her to draw him closer. It was as if an invisible string bound her heart to his, and no matter what happened nothing could cut the connection between
them.

For the briefest instant, as he whispered her name against her mouth, and she whispered his back, she caught a glimpse of the future. Just a glimmer, not clear enough to see properly. Like a
mirage in the desert. It frightened her enough to remind herself their time together was finite. So, after a final brushing of her lips against his, she stepped out of the circle of his arms and
looked up at the riot of color bursting in the night sky.

DIDI STARED AT
the canvas. Her mind was as blank as the white space staring back at her. Mocking her. It had been a couple of
days since the Fourth of July party, and already she had rejected two of the paintings she had finished. One was of Caleb lounging on a picnic blanket under the shade of a tree. The other was of
him leaning against his beloved car. None of them would do. They were dull. Flat. Lifeless. Not her usual quality of work. Certainly nothing she was willing to give him for his birthday.

She crossed her arms and scowled. The lack of vision crushed her. This should have been easy. A piece of yummy cake. After that wonderful first kiss by the lakeshore amid a rain of fireworks in
the sky? She should be a fountain of talent. A well-spring of all things beautiful. Her muse should be singing with glee. But no. She felt as empty as her mother’s gas tank a week before
bills were due.

She wanted the present to be special. Something that would show him her gratitude for the wonderful experience he had given her. Getting to play dress up and dipping her toe into his world was
definitely a once-in-a-lifetime, bucket-list item for a girl with little to no prospects for the future.

The thought sent her spiraling down. Good luck trying to spark any type of inspiration now. But it was the truth. Everyone in Caleb’s world took their future for granted because it was
always there waiting for them. The cousins were jetting off to Europe come August. Colleges had practically begged Preston to swim for them, according to Nathan. And Natasha? She had the world in
the palm of her hand. Didi? Well, she had until Caleb’s party to finish this damn painting. That was as far as she was willing to let herself think.

Her mind wandered away from what she needed to be doing, so she paced. Three steps to the left, turning on her heel, then six steps to the right, then back again. Each time she passed the canvas
she would glance at it, imagining the image that would look best on its surface.

Nothing.

A whole lot of nada.

Her feet ached by the time she stopped pacing.

“To hell with it,” she huffed up at the ceiling, her hands on her hips.

Picking up her wooden palette and sticking her thumb through the hole, she plucked a fine-tipped brush from the assortment dipped in turpentine and studied the canvas again. Then she coated the
brush with yellow paint and brought the tip closer to the blank space. But before she could make contact, her hand shook. Badly. Like eight-point-nine on the Richter scale.

A burst of frustration had her dropping the palette and brush and pulling at her hair, transferring some of the paint on her fingers to the messy strands. A growl climbed up her throat. Of all
the days to lose her motivation. She covered her face with both hands and sat on her haunches. She wanted to cry, but her eyes remained dry. All the emotion inside her seemed bottled up, but she
wasn’t strong enough to unscrew the top.

She had no idea how long she stayed in a seated position with her face covered until the alarm she had set in her room went off. The blaring whine of the digital clock reminded her of one thing:
time to take her meds. When she painted, hours could pass without her stopping. Setting the alarm ensured she wouldn’t forget.

With a sigh, she pushed to her feet and stomped out of her happy place into her room. She punched the button on her clock and the hysterics stopped. It had seemed louder since she had the house
to herself. Although Didi’s mother should have been on her way home from her shift at the store by now.

Once silence returned, she shuffled into the kitchen toward the counter where she had left the pill organizer that morning. She popped the
PM
section for that day and
took out the pills. She stared at the collection in her palm.

If she didn’t take her pills, she was a hundred percent sure she would finish the painting in time. If she didn’t take the pills, just for a couple of days max, her creativity would
return. If she didn’t take them . . . she would fly until there was no sky left. She was sure of it. Closing her fingers around the tablets that were the difference between life and death,
she made the decision. Not hard when Caleb’s smile popped into her head. He deserved the best from her.

Light feet carried her into the bathroom. Standing over the toilet bowl, she opened her fist and watched the lifesaving medication plunge one by one into the water. Hand steady, she flushed. The
discharge of the water seemed like the loudest sound in the world. It was music to her ears. Around and around the pills went until they were sucked out of her life. She didn’t need them. Not
right now. She was fine. Absolutely fine. The boat was steady. The kite was flying. And the anchor wasn’t tugging too hard. Already she could feel her muse coming back.

She had made the right choice.

A smile stretched across her lips when the front door opened. Like a thief caught in the act, she lowered the toilet seat cover.

“Didi?” her mother called. “Did you take your medication?”

Breathing hard to calm her heart, she said, “Yeah.”

The lie came out easily. She could do this. She would have to make sure that her mother wouldn’t see her when she flushed the meds. And she would have to pretend to be sleeping. She could
do this. It was just for a couple of days, she told herself as she walked out of the bathroom to meet her mom in the kitchen.

“How does pizza sound for dinner?” her mom said, flipping open the box.

Pizza meant only one thing. “Taking another shift at the diner?”

“One of the girls called in sick.” Her mother shrugged one shoulder. “It’s the dinner rush. More tips.”

“That’s always good.” She tugged on a slice of pepperoni, jalapeño, and pineapple with extra cheese. A weird combination, but it worked. Carbs, meat, veg, and fruit all
in one bite. She hummed in appreciation at the salty, sweet, tangy, spicy extravaganza happening in her mouth.

“You’re in a good mood today.” Her mother bit into her own slice, a string of gooey cheese following in the wake of the pizza.

Excitement bubbled from her insides to manifest as prickles just beneath her skin. “I’m giving Caleb a painting for his birthday.”

At the mention of Caleb, some of the light in her mother’s expression dimmed. “Oh.”

“Mom,” she whined. “Don’t tell me we have to talk about this again.”

Her mother chewed thoughtfully. “It’s just I thought I would have met him by now.”

“I’m not hiding him from you.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” She took another bite. “Don’t be so defensive.”

Didi’s shoulders stiffened. Then she forced herself to relax by exhaling slowly. She wasn’t going to fight with her mother about this. “Your schedules just haven’t
meshed, that’s all. He spends most of the time at his father’s firm.”

“But he’s important enough that you’re giving him a painting for his birthday.”

The skepticism stung, but she was determined not to let it affect her. “It seems like the appropriate gift. Personal and made by me. Plus, what do you give someone who already has
everything money can buy?”

The ever-present concern that seemed to wrinkle her mother’s brow returned. “I just don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I won’t,” Didi said without hesitation. “You have to trust that I know what I’m doing.”

“You know I trust you. I just . . .”

“Worry,” Didi finished for her. Putting her pizza down, she rounded the table and gave her mother a hug, which her mom returned. “After his birthday, Caleb will be off to
Europe with Nathan, and I will concentrate on finding a job.” The air in the room shifted from tense to comfortable again. “But if you really want to meet him, I can give him a
call.”

“I guess there’s no point if he’s leaving so soon. It’s not like he’s your boyfriend, right?”

The knot in Didi’s gut tightened. Did she want him to be her actual boyfriend? The kiss by the lake had made her wish for it. She had learned so much about him in the short time they had
been together: He hated junk food. He was athletic and competitive. And he was sweet.

The last part she hoped wasn’t just pretend. That the kindness he had shown her had been genuine. To think otherwise would break her heart.