Eight
Juno
On Saturday evening, I walk out of my room and find Kingston sitting on the couch, gaming. Since it’s spring and he works as a smoke jumper, in a few weeks, he’ll probably be gone more than he’s home.
He looks me up and down with raised eyebrows. “Where are you going?”
“I have a date.” I walk over to my purse and shove my lipstick into the clutch.
Brooklyn has the perfect crossbody purse to go with my outfit, but I didn’t call her to borrow it because I haven’t told anyone I’m going on a date. Mostly because they’ll look at me like Kingston is right now. That look that says, “What the hell are you doing, Juno?”
“Not with Colton?” He’s turned back to his game now, his thumbs pressing buttons a million times in a row. Obviously, from the shorts and shirt he’s wearing, he’s n
