Deep by Kylie Scott

subject. He mattered to me much deeper than that.
    “It seems you guys are closer to brothers than friends, even though he and your sister didn’t wind up staying together,” I said. “But I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it. That must have been hard.”
    “Yeah. Don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” He gave me a look out of the corner of his eye. “You’re too easy to talk to, you know?”
    I smiled. “So are you.”
    “You haven’t told me anything yet.”
    “Ah, all right.” I rubbed my palms against the sides of my jeans, warming them up. What to tell him? His honesty and openness meant I could give him no less. Might as well just lay it all out. “My parents divorced when I was fourteen. It messed me up for a while. But Anne helped me get back on track, helped me graduate and get into college.”
    “Pretty good sister.”
    “She’s an amazing sister.”
    His gaze switched back and forth between me and the road. “You work hard too, though.”
    “Yes. But college is expensive and she sacrificed a lot to get me there, so she deserves the bulk of the credit.”
    “Sounds like you both hauled ass to get out of a bad situation.”
    “Hmm.” I rested my head against the back of the car seat. The man was far too easy to talk to. I liked it. “That’s it really. I work part time at the same bookstore as Anne.”
    He half smiled, and sadly even that made me giddy. God, he was beautiful. I never wanted this car ride to end. We could drive to Wisconsin for all I cared. Just point the hood east and keep going until we ran out of gas.
    “Messed you up in what way?” he asked.
    That stopped the happy. “Not a topic I like to talk about.”
    He just waited, drawing me out, playing me at my own game. Sneaky.
    “I hung out with some losers. Drank, did drugs. Speed and pot, nothing too hard-core. I ditched school and did things I shouldn’t have. Dangerous things. Dated the wrong guy for a while.” My fingernails dug into me through the fabric of my jeans. All of those memories were ugly. I’d been so young and idiotic. “Then I got busted stealing. The guy who owned the shop kept saying he was going to call the police, but Anne managed to talk him out of it. That scared the shit out of me. Plus, seeing how upset Anne got about it. It finally got through to me that I wasn’t the only one hurting. I stopped sneaking out at night and messing around, started going to school again. I was just so angry that they couldn’t keep their shit together and be like a normal mom and dad.”
    “I bet.”
    “Though what even is normal? Seems like everyone’s parents are divorced these days.”
    “Yeah. Just about.”
    “Doesn’t make for much of an example, does it?”
    He made a humming noise of agreement.
    “So that’s why I’m into psychology. One day I hope to be able to help other kids ride out the rough patches.”
    He smiled.
    “Anyway, enough of me and my early-teen angst.” I crossed my legs, turning toward him in the seat. “When did you start playing bass?”
    “Fourteen or so. Dave was always crazy about guitars, and then Mal’s mom got him the kit. Jimmy’d already decided he was gonna be the singer. I had an uncle who owned an old bass guitar. Grandpa talked him into giving it to me.”
    “The same Grandpa who gave you the truck? He sounds awesome.”
    “He was, Lizzy. He really was.”
    We pulled up outside my apartment building. Funny, I’d never hated the sight of it before, but I didn’t want the trip to end. Time alone with Ben, talking, was special. I clasped my hands in my lap, studying the lines of his face. A moment later, he turned off the engine.
    “Thank you for the lift home,” I said.
    “Any time. I mean that.” He rested a hand on the steering wheel, shifting slightly to look my way.
    Happy chemicals stirred inside of me. Lustful, crazy things telling me to jump him, to climb all over him and cover his gorgeous face in kisses. To rub my jaw against