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don’t care that you’re embarrassing the crap out of me when you come downstairs looking like a sloppy narcoleptic in front of the first person who’s ever come over to see me. Do me a favor, and go back to barely acknowledging my existence, like you did before Dad died.” I couldn’t stand the sight of tears swimming in her eyes or the way her bottom lip quivered slightly by the time I’d finished my rant. I charged up the stairs to my room.
    As I rounded the doorframe and turned to slam my bedroom door, Corrine’s voice floated up the stairs. “Don’t cry, Mom. She didn’t mean it. She’s just having a hard time right now. She loves you. I know she does.”
    Did I? I wasn’t sure I loved anyone, including myself. How could I love when I didn’t know what love was?

 
    Chapter Five
    All weekend. I waited the entire weekend for Link to show up to ‘hang out’. I tried to pretend I was keeping busy, reading, or cleaning, or anything else that might keep my mother and Corrine from noticing how much I was anticipating spending time with Link. And how disappointed I was that he didn’t call or come over.
    By Sunday afternoon, I’d given up pretending and had confined myself to the bean bag chair under my bedroom window. I wasn’t trying to stare out at Link’s house; it was just a coincidence that the window faced that way. At least that’s what I told myself while I sat there with the saddest playlist I could find streaming on the computer.
    I should have known he wouldn’t come over, wouldn’t even bother to call. I was foolish to think he was being anything other than polite when he implied he wanted to spend time with me.
    Despite my certainty that he wasn’t coming over, I still got a little thrill in the pit of my stomach when he stepped out of his house late in the afternoon. The moment was short-lived, though, as he headed for the side of his house and disappeared around the corner, only to reappear a minute later with a push lawn mower. He wasn’t on his way over, because apparently, even cutting the grass was preferable to being around me.
    I felt a little voyeuristic, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he steered the mower to the edge of his lawn. My gaze was absolutely glued to him when he shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it toward the driveway. It fluttered gracefully down onto the concrete slab, the white cotton contrasting with the grey surface.
    Link shirtless was a sight to behold. He was tan and toned, muscular in all the right places, lean in all the rest. His denim shorts hung low on his hips, revealing a hint of black boxer briefs. Muscles flexed and rippled as he bent to pull the starter on the mower. It took him a few tries to get it started, but once he did, he took off, clearing a strip of grass the length of his yard and swinging around to make a pass the other direction.
    With the afternoon sun beating down on him, that delicious tan was only going to improve. In no time, his skin was glistening with sweat. I knew I shouldn’t be watching him mow the lawn, or at least I shouldn’t be enjoying it so much. Especially not after he’d blown me off. But there was no denying Link was nice to look at. I really had been missing out not paying attention to him all these years.
    Link made short work of cutting the lawn, and then proceeded to do the best thing I’d ever seen. He jogged over to the garden hose, turned the knob, and held the stream of water directly over his head. I got up on my knees, practically pressing my face against the glass to get a better look. Water sluiced over him like a dream, soaking his hair and streaming down over his shoulders, his chest, turning the light denim of his shorts dark. As he used his free hand to spread the water, rubbing it into his skin and washing the dirt and sweat away, I was so glad I’d ignored my instincts to not watch him.
    I made a slow perusal of his body, taking in the sinew, the musculature, the shadows and peaks of his