I Turned Pretty | Book 3 The Summer

He let go.

“Why are you really out here?” she asked.

She stepped up to the railing, leaving a foot of space between them. The salt wind lifted her hair. She’d stopped straightening it this summer. She’d stopped a lot of things. book 3 the summer i turned pretty

“Because I can’t sit at that fire and pretend,” he said quietly. “Pretend I’m fine. Pretend we’re all fine. Pretend Mom—”

Her heart slammed against her ribs. “What does that mean?” He let go

Conrad finally touched her. Just her wrist. His thumb pressed against her pulse point, feeling it race.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, squared her shoulders, and walked back down to the fire. The salt wind lifted her hair

The waves crashed. Somewhere down the beach, someone started singing along to a song that was too old for them.

Jeremiah was on the other side of the fire, his arm slung around a girl from Lacrosse camp. He was telling a story—something about a capsized sailboat—and every few seconds he’d glance over at Belly. Not long glances. Quick ones. Checking.

Book 3. The summer everything broke.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” Belly said.