Jennifer Armentrout - Don’t Look Back

“Hmm. It wasn’t?” Carson’s lips spread into a half grin. “So what were you asking?”

Images of us together occupied my mind for a couple more seconds. “I was wondering if you would take me up to the cliff.”

“I can do that.” Carson shifted the gears. His hand brushed along my thigh, and I jerked at the contact. “But you probably want to change first.”

The images were still there, in a lot more detail than before. Us kissing. Touching. Talking.

Carson slid me a look. A knowing, smug grin split his lips. “Sam.”

I blinked. “Change of clothes. Got it.”

He chuckled as he shifted gears again, grazing my leg with the side of his hand. I doubted it was accidental. Then he threw his arm over the back of my seat and turned his head toward me. Because I was staring at him, the movement put us within kissing distance. My heart leaped into my throat. For a moment, I thought he was going to say “screw the good-guy thing” and go for it. A second later I realized he was backing up.

Awkward.

Carson met my eyes and winked. I let out the breath I was holding, so aware of him that I felt as if I’d climb out of my skin at any second. And he knew it. That smug half grin was on his face the whole way to my house.

I snuck in and quickly changed into hiking-appropriate clothing. The house seemed empty, but I didn’t stick around to find out, doubtful that either of my parents would’ve been down with me hanging out with Carson.

We stopped at his house, and he changed out of his dress clothes. Returning in under two minutes, he’d thrown on a pair of jeans and a light sweater.

The trip to the state forest was bumpy. The truck rocked, and my phone slipped out of my fingers, falling to the floorboard. Reaching down, my hand knocked into something soft, and I grabbed it with my phone.

It was a hat—the black baseball cap I’d seen him wear before.

An image of the man in the woods flashed before me. He’d been wearing a black cap, but that … that was only a memory or a stress-induced hallucination. It couldn’t be …

“Your hat?” I said hoarsely.

Carson glanced at me, brows raised. “Yeah, had it for years.”

I put it on the dashboard, quickly dismissing the irrational fear. As we drove up the narrow dirt road, I glanced at him. “I tried to talk to Del before Veronica turned on me.”

He gave me a sidelong glance. “Sam, I don’t want to be the reason why you leave him.”

“You’re not,” I said honestly. “Things aren’t the same between Del and me, and that has nothing to do with you.”

“Okay.” One of his fingers tapped on the steering wheel. “Has he told you anything about your relationship?”

I shook my head. “Other than our relationship was perfect? No.”

Carson let out a choked laugh. “He said that? Wow.”

“What?” My interest was immediately piqued.

“Your relationship was far from perfect.” Turning onto a gravelly, bumpy road put us right into direct sunlight. He reached over, grabbed the baseball cap, and slid it on. “You guys were like Cassie and Trey, fighting all the time.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep.” He squinted, making a sharp right. “You guys didn’t break up like Trey and Cassie did all the time, but you two fought like crazy.”

I slumped back against the seat. Del had lied to me, and I’d believed him—believed in this perfect, fairy-tale romance. Feeling stupid, I glared out the window. There were more than enough signs that things weren’t perfect. The looks the girls gave me, the times Del had slipped up.

“You doing okay over there?” he asked.

My hands balled into fists. “I’m pissed! It’s bad enough that I don’t remember anything, but lying to me? He took advantage of me. I feel like an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot, Sam.”

Pressing my lips together, I shook my head. Maybe I wasn’t stupid, but I’d been incredibly naive. How many more people were lying to me? And about what? About things that were far more serious than the status of my relationship with Del, no doubt. My chest ached at all the possibilities. What if I was a murderous teenage brat and all the signs had been there? And no one wanted to tell me?

We came to a stop at a dead end blocked off with a chain and a weathered sign that marked the property private.

Carson killed the engine and sat back, looking at me. “There’s a trail that actually leads straight from your parents’ house to the cliff. I only know from helping Dad do stuff around the summer home. You could’ve made it at night, though.”

Looking around and seeing nothing but thick wilderness, it was hard to imagine wandering around here at night and not getting eaten by a bear. “Who owns it?”

“The state, I guess. Not really sure, but you and Scott used to hang out up here a lot when you were younger.” He paused. “I would tag along when your parents let me. You used to love to stand on the edge of the cliff. Freaked me and Scott out.”

I smiled faintly. “So this place meant something to me?”

“I think so.”

Reaching for the handle to open the door, I drew in a deep breath. “Ready?”

“Can you wait a sec?” Carson asked, pulling off the cap. He ran a hand through his hair, then tossed the hat onto the dashboard. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Dismay stirred inside me, and my heart dropped all the way to my toes. Nothing good came from statements like that. Letting go of the handle, I twisted toward him. “What?”

He stared straight ahead, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. “I haven’t been completely honest with you about some things.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out except a ragged breath. The ache was back in my chest, but different this time. It was centered over my heart, raw and worried like an overexposed wound. Part of me didn’t want to know what he hadn’t been truthful about, but I couldn’t—wouldn’t—run from this. Squaring my shoulders, I braced myself for whatever he was about to say.

“Okay,” I finally said. “Tell me.”

His gaze slid toward me. “Remember when I told you that you were my first kiss?” When I nodded, he let out a long breath. “Well, you were also my last kiss.”

I cocked my head to the side, unsure I heard him correctly. Out of everything I was expecting him to say, that wasn’t even near the bottom of the list. “Come again?”

Carson’s lips twitched into a tiny half smile that quickly faded. “I saw you the night you disappeared.”

Forcing myself to not climb across the seat and throttle him, I gripped my knees as anger pricked at my skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s complicated. And I know … I know that’s not a good-enough excuse. I told the police, so I’m surprised that they never told you.” He looked away, working the muscle in his jaw. “But what happened between us …”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Between us could mean only a few things. If he’d lied to me about that … well, the pressure building in my throat and behind my eyes said enough. “What happened?”

“I was hanging around with Scott, watching a movie down in the basement. It was close to ten when I left. The house was completely dark. I don’t even think your dad was home. I headed out the back way, through the sunroom, just in case your mom was roaming around. I didn’t see you at first.” His forehead creased as he ran the tips of his fingers down his face. “I heard you—you were sitting on one of those damn window seats, crying. I should’ve turned and went in the other direction, but I couldn’t walk away. Not when you were crying.”

My fingers loosened around my knees as some of the tension eased off. Carson wasn’t the kind of guy who could walk away from a crying girl. Recalling what I did know about that night, I felt a sour taste in my mouth. “I was with Del until nine.”