Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
STANDING ON A LEDGE

The smell of grilled chicken hung in the air, but the sky was cloudless. A good night for stargazing. That was the plan after dinner, and Hyde hoped Jackie would join him for that. He just had to find her first.

She wasn't sitting with the cheer squad. She must have taken her food to her tent, but he fought his instinct to check. She was resolidifying emotionally and needed time. Her message through Donna—and Forman's observations at the knot lesson—told him that much and more. She hadn't rejected him by running off today. She'd outgrown a constricting social perspective and shed it.

The development was encouraging. It would've brightened Hyde's mood, but he was at a crowded picnic table that, unfortunately, included Kelso.

Tonight's seating arrangements had to be on account of Valerie's new companion: the garbage bag slouched by her leg. She was sweeping cheerleaders' crumbs into it with a napkin.

"What's with your girlfriend?" Hyde said, and Kelso laughed with a mouthful of baked potato.

"Wow, sympathetic," Donna said. "Valerie got saddled with some kind of punishment, which you must've had something to do with. And you're over here, eating like the chicken king of Ashland County."

Fez gestured at her to be quiet. He and Kelso had been discussing a raccoon he'd spotted in the woods. It was the most attention he'd gotten from Kelso in a week, but their friendship had to wait a little longer. Getting answers was Hyde's priority, and Kelso was close to giving them up.

Hyde nudged Forman, and Forman said to Kelso, "What'd you do?"

Kelso laughed again. "Man, Ms. McGee—" He turned to the other half of the table. "People, you might wanna clear out. Fez just laid an egg." He pinched his nose. "And it is a stinker!"

"I did not!" Fez said, but the damage had been done. Students left the table with their plates, and Kelso snatched Fez's remaining potato. "Hey! I was going to eat that!"

"It has a higher purpose, buddy." Kelso stood and crumbled the potato on the vacated picnic benches. "Now no one else will sit with us, which is good 'cause I've gotta tell you guys something big!"

Hyde put his own uneaten half of baked potato on Fez's plate. Fez had no clue that Hyde and Jackie were dating. He wasn't good at keeping secrets, and his love for Kelso made him a liability, but he deserved freakin' respect.

"Ms. McGee busted me and Valerie for frottage," Kelso said.

"What is frottage?" Fez said.

"I thought it was a kind of cheese." Kelso mimed sprinkling cheese bits onto his chicken skewer. "But Ms. McGee taught me it's French for dry-humping. It's against school rules: thou shalt not frot while on school trips. So Valerie's assigned grunt work, and I'm totally doin' Ms. McGee!"

Forman choked on his water. "My math teacher? Kelso, how could you?"

"Yes, it is a shock." Fez stabbed a chunk of potato with his fork. "But maybe Kelso is doing it for you, Eric, to help with your grades."

"Oh, God." Forman's face paled, but he seized the lapel of Kelso's jacket across the table. "Does she know we're friends? Don't tell her we're friends. Oh, God."

"Ms. McGee's already seen you hanging out, man," Hyde said. "On this trip. At school. If Kelso's bad in the sack..." He chuckled. "What am I talkin' about? You're screwed, Forman."

Forman's grip on Kelso tightened. "If my sister taught you anything, for the love of God, use it!"

"You know who God loves?" Kelso pried Forman's fingers off him and pointed a chicken skewer at himself. "Carol swallowed the knockwurst our first night in the park."

"C-Carol?" Forman sputtered. "You're on a first-name basis with her?"

Hyde cast him a sideways glance. "Kelso's slipping Ms. McGee the sausage. What he calls her ain't that relevant."

"How's this for an interesting fact?" Kelso said. "You'd think calculus teachers would be stiff as a ruler, but Ms. McGee's super flexible. She practically folds in half!"

Donna shoved her paper plate aside. "Thank you, Kelso, for ruining seventeen years of my appetite."

"Donna, come on," Forman said.

She rose to her feet. "No. I've had enough."

Forman didn't follow as she disappeared through the trees, but Hyde removed his shades and chased after her. He caught up near the center of the campground and steered her toward the cheer squad's tent city.

"Kelso seriously makes me sick," she said. "How can Ms. McGee be the blonde? She's a calculus teacher, for Christ's sake. Avoiding idiots like him should be algebraic. If X equals a moron, then Y equals: don't fuck the moron!"

"Idiots like him could be her kink," he said, "but her being the other woman don't exactly fix my sitch with Jackie."

She heaved out a breath. "I guess it doesn't. So what are you gonna do?"

"Find out where the hell Jackie is."

They arrived at the cheerleaders' tents, but none were occupied. That meant Jackie had eaten elsewhere. He and Donna tried their own tents next, but Jackie wasn't there either.

"Okay, this is a little worrisome," Donna said. "What if a bear snatched her? Jackie's the perfect pint-size meal."

"I'd put my money on Jackie in that scrap," but a bear attack wasn't the most likely scenario. She had human predators to watch out for on this trip, and ambient light from the setting sun was all but gone.

He and Donna grabbed their flashlights, separated, and did a systematic search of the campground. But he came up empty and met Donna back at their tents. She reported the same result: no Jackie.

"Shit," he said, protecting his eyes. Students had initiated a game of flashlight tag. Light beamed from tree-to-tree, person-to-person, accompanied by screams and laughter. "I'll try Julie. She's gotta know somethin'."

"I'll check the bathrooms," Donna said. "See you here in fifteen."

They left each other again, but looking for Julie among tag-players was impossible. Kids raced past him in the darkness. One attempted to rope him into the game, and others yelled at him for shining his own flashlight and confusing the players.

Sweat soaked him by the time he returned to his tent. He changed from his wool coat to his denim jacket, despite that the temperature had dropped ten degrees since the afternoon. Adrenaline was roasting him, stoked by fear, and he scrambled out of the tent.

He and Jackie had held hands on the hike. If people blabbed, if Valerie heard, she might've taken his girl. Or ordered Destroy and Give Back to do her dirty work for her—

"She's not in the bathroom," Donna said, and his shoulders jumped. She'd blended into the night. "We should go to Coach Ferguson."

"Not yet, man. Not yet." Ratting Jackie out to Coach Ferguson would cause trouble with the school or her social circle. "Recruit Forman and Fez for the search. Have them scout the pissing woods and the kissing woods. If you spot Julie, tell her Jackie's missing. That'll get her involved."

Donna shone her flashlight at him and gripped his hand. "Ten minutes. Then I'm going to Coach Ferguson, no matter what you say."

"Yeah."

He wove among trees and students to the campground exit. He sped to the bathrooms, inspected them himself, but each was vacant. If Valerie and her jock-minions had gotten hold of Jackie, they would've brought her somewhere hidden. Away from the teachers and anyone who could stop them.

Three paths led from the bathrooms: one to the campground, one to the Trumpeter River, and one whose sign was faded to illegibility. He started along the mystery path, but a shrub shook nearby, halting his steps. A bushy tail darted from the glow of his flashlight. Only a squirrel, but he investigated the shrub further.

Its leaves were waxy and cold against his palm. No human bodies had been stashed in it, though. He appeared to be alone, save for the squirrel. Still, maybe Jackie's concussion had presented itself. She'd become disoriented, wandered from the campground, and passed out.

His stomach hollowed out at his theories. Unconscious. Kidnapped. Lost. Each was a possibility, but Quartz Falls rumbled in the distance, as if shushing his thoughts, and he stared at the sky.

Starlight bore down on him, drilling through his skull. His lack of sense had grown to Kelso-level immensity. Telling Coach Ferguson was the only way to go, but the shrub glowed beneath him. Someone was aiming a flashlight at it, and the beam moved to his face, blinding him.

"Steven?"

Stars went nova in his eyes, but he barreled toward the voice—his damn joy—and wrapped his arms around Jackie's body. She was solid and warm and smelled like campfire smoke.

"What are you doing out here?" she said, and he loosened his embrace. She'd scared him shitless, but she stroked his cheek as if she knew. "I'm okay, Steven. I'm okay. I just introduced Julie to my 'ex'."

"Your ex?" His vision had mostly cleared, but the flashlight was on both of them now, held by someone close. Had to be Julie, and he lowered his forehead to Jackie's as understanding flooded his brain. "Mark."

"Ft. Anderson's camp is a mile-and-a-quarter from ours."

He shut his eyes to restrain the emotion trying to push out. She should have told him, told Donna, but at least she hadn't gone alone. "Dinner?" he said hoarsely.

"We ate there." Her thumb brushed over his left eyebrow. "Aren't you freezing? Why aren't you wearing your coat?"

The cold had finally seized him, but the shivers invading his muscles were weak. "Denim jacket lodged a complaint. Ft. Anderson feed you good grub?"

"Hamburgers."

"Huh." The ledge of his control was crumbling, but he opened his eyes and took in Jackie's face. Her cheeks and lips were pink in the gleam of Julie's flashlight. Her wool hat covered her hair, and no one had ever been more Goddamned beautiful. "Jackie, I wanna kiss you."

She cupped the nape of his neck and stood on her toes. "Mark kissed me earlier at the falls. He scooped me up and put on a show for our schools. But that's all it was: a show. He didn't even use tongue, and..."

Her words accelerated from explanations to frantic apologies, but her performance with Mark was old news. He'd heard it from a dozen gossipy kids. It was also a piece of unfinished business he was glad she'd finished. "You got nothin' to be sorry for," he said.

"I do. I ran."

"Same as me." He laid one of her hands on his chest. "Only thing keepin' us apart is us. We don't have to kiss 'til you're ready, man. Just stick around—"

Her breath heated his lips before her mouth made contact. She was taking the lead, reassuring him with tenderness. He held her tightly as relief gave way to peace, and when he opened his mouth wider, she pushed into it deep.

He grunted in surprise and pulled away, but her rhythm snapped inside his memory. He moved back in, getting high on the slide of her tongue, the pulse of their growing intimacy.

A loud clap sobered him up. "We are gonna be in so much trouble if our butts aren't in camp," Julie said, and he withdrew from Jackie's lips. Jackie glared at him, a mixture of shock and concern, and he felt the same. Julie had witnessed their first, albeit short, make-out.

"You cool?" he said to her.

"If you mean will I tell everyone you and Jackie just Frenched? The answer's no." Julie shone her flashlight at Jackie. "She's why you wouldn't kiss me at Fatso Burger."

"More or less." He grasped Jackie's hand, and the three of them began the walk to camp.

"He's your explanation," Julie said to Jackie, "why you and Mark were never actually an item."

Jackie leaned her head on his shoulder. "More or less."

"One-week policy?" Julie said.

He wrote an X with the beam of his flashlight on the ground. "Null and void."

"He's my boyfriend," Jackie said, and she swung their arms playfully. Their freedom wouldn't last, but hearing her voice, holding a part of her—it was freakin' euphoria.

Julie's flashlight joined his in lighting their path. They reached the campground in five minutes, but she stopped him and Jackie several feet from the entrance.

"Wait," she said. "So Valerie cheated on Michael by assaulting you." Her flashlight pointed at his jacket. "And Michael used to go out with Jackie, who's your now girlfriend. But you and I had our weird thing that Valerie knows about …"

Jackie hugged his waist, but it seemed protective rather than affectionate. "Valerie's not interested in Steven. She's interested in me."

"What?" Julie said.

"Not like that. To hurt me however she can. Dating Michael is part of it, but that's not working out like she planned. She caught him cheating with a blonde."

"Oh, whoa—" Julie tapped the butt of her flashlight against her chin. "That answers her insane interrogations, but it sure as hell wasn't me. I never understood why you kept dating Michael. You're too smart for someone like him."

Jackie squeezed Hyde tighter, and he rubbed her back. Her history with Kelso was just that: history. It no longer threatened him, and he tried to communicate that through his touch.

"Fear drives people to do stupid things," she said. "But Steven is everything to me, Julie. If Valerie learns we're together, she'll do whatever she can to destroy us." One of her arms dropped from his waist, but she pressed a kiss into his neck. "If she goes after my Steven again, I'll rip out her toenails."

"Save some for me, but I won't say thing," Julie said. "And I think we should try Mark's idea. Practice tomorrow and go for it on Saturday."

"Oh, it'll happen," Jackie said and offered Hyde no clues as to Mark's idea.

Julie entered the campground, but he signaled for Jackie to stay put. "You trust her?" he said.

"Yes. Even if I didn't, I saw her and Mark make out. They're gonna try dating. They have a lot in common, like fishing and some show called Battlestar Galactica and—"

"I hear ya." He shut off his flashlight and stowed it in his jeans pocket. Oil lanterns on the campground provided some light, and he caressed the side of Jackie's face. "Good for her," he said sincerely. Julie wasn't a bad person. Just trapped like Jackie and attempting a jailbreak. "Also good for us since it gives us some insurance on her silence. Dating your 'ex' from Ft. Anderson won't help her rep."

"Mark's hotness outweighs his Snapping-Turtle-ness, especially since he's not a jock. But Julie doesn't want her love life becoming grist for the rumor mill, and that does give us insurance."

A smile rose to his lips. "So Mark's hot, huh?"

"He could be on the cover of teen magazines, Steven. The first chess champion teen idol."

"Crap. What're you doin' dating me?"

She tugged on the lapel of his jacket. "Steven … I love you."

His heart quaked in his chest. From her, those words had power over him. It was a vulnerability he'd sworn never to develop, but with Jackie it might possibly become a strength.

Hyde and Jackie rushed across the campground, hand-in-hand, to find a teacher. Any teacher. Oil lanterns kept them from stepping on anyone. Kids were either sitting or lying on sleeping bags outside as flashlights shone at them. The teachers were doing their nightly head count, and Hyde and Jackie moved toward the nearest one.

"My goodness!" Mrs. Fletcher said when her beam landed on him and Jackie. "So wonderful you're here, but I better run to Coach Ferguson. He's liable to call in the National Guard..."

She scurried past them, and Jackie whispered, "Why is she so freaked out?"

He tugged on his earlobe as he considered how to answer. Jackie's pride had been battered for months, but the truth was what had: "Donna reported you as missing."

"And you went looking for me."

"We all did."

"Well, I better let Donna gaze upon me before she starts firing flares," she said.

With the aid of his flashlight, they reached his tent without any tree-related mishaps. Forman, Donna, and Fez were nearby, and the three of them yanked Jackie into a hug.

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" Donna shouted.

"Yes!" Fez said. "Donna said you were eaten by a bear."

"Gff—" Jackie's voice was muffled by the group embrace.

"Where were you, young lady?" "Forman said.

Jackie shoved the three of them off her and explained what Hyde already knew until Coach Ferguson blasted on his whistle.

"Get comfortable, people!" Ferguson shouted from the center of the grounds. "Get as warm and cozy as you can because Mrs. Fletcher is leading us on a cosmic adventure!"

Hyde and Jackie ducked into his tent, where they could be mess around without interference, but she dragged his sleeping bag outside.

He switched his jacket with his wool coat and followed. She was sweeping pebbles from his tent, clearing the ground. "I can do that myself," he said. "If you gotta go to the squad, go to the squad. It's cool."

"No, it's not," she said. "The people who weren't supposed to leave you, they left. And I've become one of them, someone who isn't supposed to leave."

"Jackie, don't beat yourself to hell, okay? Don't compare yourself to my folks."

"My hiding, the running—it has to feel awful. But I promise I won't abandon you." She gestured between them. "Even if we argue or need space sometimes, our connection won't break. We'll still be with each other."

He scrubbed his hand over his face. She was talking about trust. Most of his had been killed by his parents, but Jackie had the survivors, and they were multiplying. "Fuck."

"Did I say something bad?"

"No. Just … fuck."

She spread his sleeping bag on the pebble-less ground. "Is that a proposition?"

"No, man. I..." He was liable to spout sonnets to her if he couldn't close himself up. "Let's stargaze, all right? I'm done hiding," and judging by her actions, so was she. "Valerie can't do shit to us."

"How can you be sure?"

"'Cause you're here with me, and I … damn it." His body tensed, and he inhaled a few breaths through his nose. Less than fifteen minutes ago, he'd thought she was gone. Not just missing. Gone. "I love you," he said without cringing, "and I can say it without wanting to stab myself in the throat."

She patted her heart. "Oh, Steven, that is so romantic!"

"That's me. Mr. Romance."

He lay back on the sleeping bag, and she settled into the crook of his arm. Her head rested on his chest, a welcome weight. The pom-pom of her hat tickled his chin, but he had no complaints. The sky above was crowded with stars, forming shapes he had trouble discerning. But him and Jackie, this could be home.

"Ms. McGee?" Jackie whispered for the fourth time. Steven probably assumed a concussion, but the idea of Michael diddling the calculus teacher was tough to process. "I can't believe he's one of her 'special students'."

"He's proud of it." Steven stuck his hand into her jacket pocket and drew her closer. They were snuggled together on his sleeping bag, stars glittering above like untouchable diamonds. But his hands wandered only to caress and hold, not to grope. She'd longed to be loved this way, and she nuzzled his neck. The scent of pine had saturated his skin. She'd likely always associate that smell with him from now on, but he said, "Your hat freakin' tickles, y'know."

He was chuckling, but she yanked off her hat. It wasn't necessary anymore. "Couldn't Ms. McGee get in trouble for what she's doing—who she's doing?"

"Kelso's nineteen. It's legal but against school policy, so you can do the math."

"Later." She kissed the underside of his jaw and lay back again, refusing to let the cheer squad ruin this night. Tonight was perfect.

Mrs. Fletcher continued her astronomy lesson, shouting from the center of the campground. She described the constellation Pegasus and the mythology behind it, but she was hard to hear. Fortunately, Jackie knew enough star lore to teach a class on it herself.

She clutched Steven's wrist. Earlier, he'd had trouble recognizing the constellations, and she traced Pegasus with his index finger. "See it?" she said.

"I see somethin'. Doesn't look like a horse with a wings."

"It's upside-down. Those are the legs." She moved his finger to the stars Algenib and Scheat and said their names. "Use your imagination a little."

"You know what they're called?"

She released his wrist and sat up off him. "My dad and I used to stargaze. If he hadn't studied law, he would've been an astrophysicist. At least that's the story he told me."

"That's..." He stroked the side of her leg as she knelt beside him. "You sound sad, man."

"I miss him," she said, and the admission prickled her skin. She often crushed these kinds of thoughts, but the empathy in Steven's voice, his touch, had released them. "Mom, too. I don't understand why she—why they changed. I'm afraid of what I'll be coming home to."

His hand skimmed her hip. "Whatever it is, you won't be stranded. I'm not gonna repeat that screw-up."

"Steven..." She leaned over him. Her hair fell onto his forehead, and her palm landed next to his shoulder for balance. "You pushed me away once, but after that you never really left me."

He cradled her cheek when she started to withdraw from him. "Where you goin'?" he said.

"I'm blocking your view of the sky."

His fingers slipped into her hair. "Who needs the stars? I got the sun."

The Earth wobbled beneath her legs as she grew dizzy. Her frenzied pulse had too little oxygen. Such a romantic sentiment should not have come out of Steven Hyde. It wasn't part of his anatomy, and her fingertips found his mouth in the shadow of his face.

"You're happy," she said, unable to hide her astonishment. "I make you happy."

He dragged his thumb along the edge of her ear. "Any point in denying it?"

She bent toward him, and her lips replaced her fingers on his mouth. His response was as good as a confirmation.

Blood throbbed hotly in her chest as their hips met in the darkness. His hands roamed her back, but his kisses were reaching beyond her mouth and neck. They cascaded into her grief, diluting it with tenderness and desire.

His hips remained flat on the sleeping bag, but her effect on him was obvious. She used every bit of self-restraint not to grind into him. They were in public, and though her body and heart ached for more, rushing would deprive them of true intimacy.

She wanted to learn what he liked, to teach him the same about her. To build lasting memories, but their rhythm synchronized naturally. He was the beach, and she became the tide, flowing over him. He cupped her butt, pulling her closer, tighter, and her awareness receded into pure sensation.

A moan slipped out of her, and control glinted in her mind like a grain of sand. With Michael, she'd been impatient. To sustain her joy with Steven, they had to slow down, and she forced herself off his body.

"I can't," she whispered, out of breath.

He sat up, breath equally short. "Shit—I'm sorry."

"No." She grabbed for his hand and got his wrist instead. "I mean I could. I really, really could, but Donna and Eric are right there. Fez can't be that far, either." It was partly an excuse, but explaining her full reason for stopping would take an hour. "We're too exposed."

"If you wanna move the party inside, I'm game."

"That's not it. I..." She rubbed her thumb over his wrist, and her skin came away wet. "Oh!" His Band-Aid was gone, and he was likely bleeding. She'd seen him pick his scabs in the basement. It was a disgusting habit, and now his blood was on her. "Get into your tent."

"Not the type to follow orders, but this one I like."

The shadow of his sleeping bag disappeared with him into his tent, and she went in after them. "Flashlight," she said. "Switch on your flashlight."

His tent brightened with light seconds later. She squinted as her eyes adjusted, and she brought her thumb into the beam.

"You're bleeding?" he said.

"You are." She crawled to him and aimed the flashlight at his right wrist. His skin was smeared with blood. "Where's your—ah." She spotted his duffel bag at the back of the tent. "You brought Band-Aids with you, right?"

"No."

"But you had one on earlier."

"Forman's."

"Steven! They were on the list."

"So was a thermos."

"Don't turn this around. You need to take better care of yourself."

"So do you."

"I said don't turn this around." She unzipped his duffel bag. Surely, Mrs. Forman had been her maternal, meddlesome self and packed him a First Aid kit. "A little help, please?"

He lit the bag's contents, and she rummaged through his clothes. Nothing out of the ordinary about his undershirts and socks, but she removed his gray sweater. A heavy object was wrapped in the wool, and she wrested it free.

"Holy hell," he said, shining the flashlight on a first aid kit.

A note was taped to it in Mrs. Forman's handwriting: "Just in case. Love, Mrs. Forman."

"You didn't think she packed one for you," Jackie said at his bewildered expression. He grasped the back of his overgrown curls and shook his head. He resembled a little boy, and she busied herself with the first aid kit. Making a big deal out of this moment might shut him down, but he underestimated his importance to people. "Does your thermos have any water left?"

"It's full. Like having somethin' to drink at night."

"Bring it to me and hold the flashlight over your wrist."

He did as she said, and she poured water onto a gauze pad. His cut was oozing blood, and the skin around it was stained red. "Broke open when we were kissing," he said.

She cleaned the wound, patted it dry, then sprayed disinfectant on it. "We both need to take better care of ourselves," she said and applied a Band-Aid to his cut. He'd gotten the wound from protecting Valerie, but Valerie had hurt him more profoundly than that.

The flashlight beam moved beneath her chin. Steven was looking at her, studying her face. She soaked fresh gauze with water and wiped her thumb of blood. "I was a Girl Scout," she said, answering what had to be his unasked question. "I can do anything out here, including first aid."

"Forman mentioned that." He tugged his coat sleeve over the Band-Aid. "What are you and Julie planning?"

"A well-choreographed take-down, but first you have to confront Valerie."

He tugged his coat sleeve harder. "Not happening."

"Steven, she—"

"Beat the meat, and I let her. What's to say?"

She closed her eyes, but his pain flared inside her. "Michael groped me during our sleepovers. I'd be half-asleep, and he … he'd touch my breasts and in between my legs. And as horrible as it was, it felt good, too, and I gave in." She opened her eyes but saw only darkness. Steven had clicked off the flashlight. "I hated myself for letting him do that," she said, "but then I'd go numb and sleep."

Steven's hair brushed against her temple, and the material of her jacket crinkled. He was holding her, but she hadn't confessed her shame to get consolation.

"You didn't ask for it," she said, hugging him back. "A body just reacts."

He answered with silence, and she hooked her chin on his shoulder. "The illusion of control. The illusion, remember? You said that, but it works two ways."

"I'm listenin'."

"The worst Valerie's done to me so far is what she's done to you. Her other plans fizzled." She knotted her hands at the base of his spine. "I bought into the idea that she has control over me. She doesn't, but my belief was enough to make it true."

He stroked her hair "Grasshopper speaks wisdom."

"You taught me a lot of it." She pulled from his embrace reluctantly. "Walk me to Leslie's tent?"

"You gonna tell her about Kelso and Ms. McGee?"

"Yes. Then it'll be her problem."

The tent lit up. He'd turned on the flashlight. "I'll walk you," he said, "but Valerie means crap to me except for how she treats you."

"According to Julie, Valerie's forced herself on other boys. She'll do it again, just like Esther probably has."

The tent darkened, and he darted outside. She hurried after him, but he was waiting for her. "I pissed you off," she said as a gust of wind blasted the air. She put on her gloves, but her hair whipped at her cheeks. She'd forgotten her stupid hat in his tent.

"Not pissed." His fingertips grazed her gloved palm, and she clutched his hand. "But when a guy's hit in the stones, takes him a couple of minutes to recover."

A painful, intangible lump lodged in her throat, and she went with him quietly to the cheer squad's tents. Most were lit from the inside, including Leslie's. But Jackie had used Steven's past as a weapon to urge him forward, an unforgivable offense.

He dropped his flashlight into his coat pocket, and its beam faded into the sky. "Whatever you're thinkin', quit thinkin' it." He squeezed her waist gently. "You weren't trying to hurt me."

Her stomach fluttered at his trust. It flowed deeper than she ever dreamed it would, and she pecked his lips. "I'm with you, no matter what you choose to do."

"I got it..." he pushed up her jacket sleeve and kissed the underside of her wrist, "and you got me, Grasshopper."

She stared at him, startled and awed by his warmth, but she'd always suspected he was full of love. He just needed the right people to draw it out, and as she entered the chill of Leslie's tent, his warmth stayed with her.