Love Next Door (Lakeside #1) by Helena Hunting

Billy started working for my dad right out of high school. In fact, he was already working for him in the summers as soon as he was old enough, and after school and on weekends during the busy season. They’ve always been tight, so hearing my brother talk about himself as though he’s less because he didn’t go to college isn’t something I expect. “You and dad are so close, though. You’ve been working together forever.”

He shrugs. “It made sense to work for Dad. I’m good at following orders and working with my hands, but only if the end result is money in my pocket. You’re good at everything. I’ve always been the trouble, and you’ve always been the golden child. It’s just how it is.”

“I got up to just as much mischief as you did. I just didn’t get caught.”

“Because you’re smart enough not to. I’m obviously not.”

It never occurred to me that Billy didn’t go the college route because he wasn’t capable. He had decent grades, not awesome, but then he spent as much time skipping classes as he did going to them. And I always assumed he did this because he was bored and preferred the hands-on stuff to the paperwork. “I’m good with a textbook, and you’re good at all the things I’m not. Boys are always more impulsive than girls and more prone to finding trouble. Remember that time you and Tommy rigged up a zip line with a bike? That was insanity, and none of us tried to stop you either.”

Billy laughs at the memory. “Tommy wasn’t allowed out with us for a while after that.”

“Well, he did break his collarbone. And honestly, it probably would have worked if someone who didn’t weigh two hundred and fifty pounds had gone first.”

“I purposely drew the short straw so it wouldn’t be me.”

“See? That’s smart. Let someone else be the guinea pig so you’re not the one breaking bones.” I grin at my brother, who’s smiling back at me.

This is better. More like how it used to be when we were younger. When things were less complicated and there weren’t responsibilities to get in the way. I used to pick him up all the time after he’d been out with his friends, smoking weed they’d grown in the forest or drinking beers they’d stolen from someone’s older brother. I covered for him all the time, but when I went to college, I couldn’t do that anymore.

It was like taking the leash off a dog without teaching him not to run away. At least that’s how it seems. I’d been so focused on getting out and away from Tucker and everything else in Pearl Lake that I hadn’t considered how it affected Billy. Or how he might feel like he was part of the reason I’d left in the first place.

The beach parking lot is full by the time we get there. I drop Billy off at the path and drive a block west before parking the truck in an old brush- and weed-filled turnaround. There’s an overgrown path that forks off at the edge of the small clearing. The right side will take me to the beach, while the other one twists and turns and forks again, eventually leading to a tiny abandoned hunting cabin I found when I was a teenager and then used as my thinking spot. I never told anyone about it, mostly because I didn’t want the guys to ransack it.

I check my reflection in the rearview mirror and consider putting on some lip gloss, but I decide that would be a step too far in the “I care” direction. I shoulder my purse and check my messages, relieved to find one from Tawny letting me know that she and Allie are already at the beach, near the old docks.

I swallow down my nerves, worried about seeing Allie for the first time. Tawny has always been an easy-to-forgive kind of person, but I’m not sure Allie is going to let me off so easy. I shake off the apprehension and head down the path, the weeds soon giving way to soft sand.

There are two main beaches on Pearl Lake: one on the McMansion side, which is maintained by the town, and the townie beach, where all the parties are held. It’s set on the southwest side of the lake, but the town doesn’t have the funds to maintain it, so it’s grassier and lined with old falling-apart docks. Mostly it’s the townies who hang out here, but sometimes the kids from the other side will catch wind that a party’s going on and will show up. When I was young, that often resulted in a lot of random hookups, broken hearts, and broken noses.

I pop out of the bushes at the far end of the beach. It’s already dotted with people drinking out of red Solo cups. I haven’t been here in years, and the beach has degraded in that time. It’s sad, really, because with a little effort, some money, and community help, it could be a gorgeous place for families to picnic, not just a place for people to hang out and drink at night.

I glance up at the sky and see dark clouds rolling in. I didn’t think it was supposed to rain tonight, but the weather here can change on a dime, and it’s prime thunderstorm season. Besides, we could use the rain. I scan the beach, full of so many familiar faces. Almost all the people I went to high school with are here, older now, some already married with kids. I was one of the few people who left. I think Aaron was one of the only other people, and Tucker briefly, but look at us, all back again.

A pit opens in my stomach, those stupid nerves making me edgy. I have so many memories of this place, some good—most of them, actually—but a few bad ones seem to overshadow those, and they’re all related to Tucker. Looking back, I realize he was such a waste of time, but if I’d broken up with him for good, I might have ended up with someone who would have made me want to stay here, and I needed a reason to leave. Tucker was a necessary evil.