I hesitate next to O'Brien's bike, and he rolls his eyes, doing nothing to conceal his impatience.

"I know you don't have better things to do, Princess. Hop on."

In the end, I oblige. O'Brien's right. If I stay home, my afternoon will be dull. Gavin and his friends got into his car and drove away after class. They needed to study, and I'd rather take a long walk and breathe some air than sit in the library, listening to my growling stomach and getting bored.

It's when my arms find their place around O'Brien's waist that I realize I didn't ask him where we're going.

"I have to stop by the store and get something to eat," he says as if he can read my mind. "Then I'm gonna show you the place where I spent lots of time growing up."

"Okay," I say over the loud rumble of the bike's engine. We cruise around the town until O'Brien slows down and parks next to a store. I accompany him inside and watch him choose some bread, ham, cheese, water, and even cupcakes.

Soon, the bike rolls down the country road, and I shiver as the cold wind blows against the back of my neck. It isn't raining, but the sky is painted gray and looks too dark for so early in the afternoon.

I've never been to this place in the forest. We must've ridden even farther than where The Temple is. Although the road turns narrow and bumpy, O'Brien seems to know where he's going, so I say nothing and grip him tighter while my eyes soak in the surrounding scenery.

"We're here, Kitten," O'Brien says. "I hope you brought a bikini and some sunscreen."

I stare at the guy, who seems to have lost his mind. He laughs as he parks the bike under a tall pine.

When my feet are planted on the ground, I get rid of the helmet and raise my head skyward. The wind isn't chilly anymore. A pleasant earthy scent permeates the air, and some birds are perched on tree branches.

I glance at O'Brien and catch him smirking.

"What?"

He shrugs. "Nothing. You don't go out much, do you? I don't mean parties; I mean spending time outdoors."

"No, not much," I say. "What about you?"

O'Brien laughs. "I'm the opposite, Kitten. If it weren't for Pops and the garage, I wouldn't spend lots of time at home."

"Why?"

"There's too much to see and too little time to do it, so why waste it?"

O'Brien grabs the bag with the food he bought and strolls down the narrow path leading into the woods. I follow him, afraid to get lost in a place I don't know. In less than five minutes, we're standing next to a lake surrounded by trees.

Much to my surprise, it's not windy here at all. I take a tentative step toward the wooden pier and can't help marveling at the beauty in front of me. The reflection of the trees in the mirror-like, smooth surface of the lake makes up for the lack of sunlight and warmth.

O'Brien's footsteps sound behind me. He reaches me and stands next to me on the pier, with his eyes focused on the horizon. Gone are his smartass remarks and jokes; we just take everything in and listen to the few birds chirping.

Then O'Brien shrugs off his leather jacket and spreads it on the wooden boards of the pier. "Sit," he says. "We're gonna eat. I'm starving."

I sit next to him and accept the ham and cheese sandwich. "Thank you," I say, and O'Brien sighs and looks away.

My eyebrows bunch up. "What?"

He takes a bite and chews, ignoring my question. Then he mumbles, "Eat first."

I finish everything in no time, even the cupcake. O'Brien avoids looking at me, and the aura around us is lit with awkwardness. To my horror, I realize I prefer O'Brien's stupid jokes and our banter to this eerie, almost ominous silence.

Relief washes over me when O'Brien speaks. "So," he clears his throat and faces me, "I need to tell you something because I'd rather you learned it from me and not your mother."

"What's it?"

"I'm not blind, and I notice shit. I know it's rough for the two of you, Kitten. Mac and many of my friends were in a similar situation years ago. So, I talked to my dad and asked him to hire your mother at the garage to answer phone calls, organize his paperwork, and stuff like that. Dad's business is new, so he could only give her part-time, but it'd cover food and rent."

If I looked at myself right now, I'd find a hopeful gleam in my gaze. This job, this offer, whatever I can call it — is the best my mom's ever had. It isn't cleaning toilets at the gas station or being someone's maid. She'd be in a warm garage next to our house, saving gas money and maybe even learning something new.

"I don't know why she refused to take it."

O'Brien's words shatter my hopes into tiny pieces. I stare at him and tears well up in my eyes. "Refused?"

He nods and bites his lip as if he's restraining himself from saying something else.

"But she's...we're...why?" I mumble, staring at my reflection in the water. A single teardrop rolls down my cold cheek, and I wipe it hastily, hoping O'Brien didn't notice.

He's not the guy to be vulnerable with, but I don't have anyone to comfort me if I cry. Mom's too busy pitying herself and complaining about her bad luck and the situation she doesn't want to change — not even when the opportunity has literally knocked on our door.

I think about the never-ending cycle of my mom's grim mood, her anger, and our empty fridge, and more tears fall. This time, I'm incapable of stopping them. I cover my face with my palms and sob, too miserable to be concerned about O'Brien's reaction to my outburst and the way he'd mock me.

"Fuck," he mutters. I feel his heavy arm around my shoulders and inhale the already familiar scent of leather with faint traces of cigarette smoke. O'Brien pulls me to him. My back leans against his hard chest, and his strong arms encase me, keeping me warm.

He removes my hands from my face and dries my tears with his fingertips. The calloused pads stay on my skin long enough for me to get used to the feeling. It's foreign and feels forbidden, and somehow, I find myself closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.

O'Brien's palm cups the side of my face. "Don't cry, Kitten," he whispers. "I'm shit at this, and if you don't stop with the waterworks, I might say something that'll make you blush and want to jump in the lake. But don't, okay? The motherfucker's deep. I nearly drowned there when I was a kid. Thank God for my big bro and his built-in danger radar."

I'm laughing now, and O'Brien stuns me by pressing his lips to the top of my head. The kiss lasts barely a second, but I feel it all. Eventually, I stop crying, but O'Brien doesn't remove his arms.

"Was your mom always like that?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say. "I don't even know who my dad is. My mom raised me, but it's always been tough. I don't think I've ever seen her laugh, you know? Not like other moms do."

Not like yours, I want to add, but keep quiet.

O'Brien sighs. "I hope she changes her mind about the job, but if she doesn't, you can always stop by and have lunch or dinner with me. It's Pops and I, he's a good cook, and we have food to spare. Think about it, okay? It's not your fault things are shitty, Leah. You shouldn't be hungry just because your momma's too proud to admit you two have it rough."

"Thank you," I say and sniffle again.

"Anytime, Kitten," O'Brien replies. This time, he's his usual self because as soon as I calm down, he says, "So...since we're alone, are you sure you don't wanna see the boy?"

I laugh and smack his thigh. "I think I'll pass."

"Your loss, Princess."

We sit by the lake until it's almost dark. The temperature drops, and I rub my arms.

"Come on; let's head back," O'Brien says.

He rises to his feet and helps me up. We stroll to where he left his bike.

Suddenly, a chuckle leaves O'Brien's mouth. He crouches down next to his motorcycle and picks something up from the ground.

"Look at this, Princess. Doesn't it look like a dick to you?"

O'Brien holds up a strange mushroom. "It's a decent size, Kitten, am I right? And look at the balls — light pink, a beautiful color."

O'Brien wiggles the mushroom in the air, and I burst out laughing because it does resemble a member, and the way O'Brien studies it with childlike excitement makes me giggle harder.

"Have you seen Ferdinand's dick? Is it like this or smaller? My boy's definitely bigger. Besides, it's pierced. Have I told you that?"

"You have." My cheeks heat and I laugh despite myself. "Did it hurt?"

"Nah, Princess. I'm a big boy. I took a shot of Jack for courage. But if you wanna make me forget how painful it was, you can kiss it and make it better."

"What?" I gasp. "You...you..."

O'Brien laughs. "I...I...Come on; catch the dick."

The mushroom flies in my direction. I catch it, scrunch up my nose, and throw it at O'Brien. He tilts his head back and laughs so hard his eyes glisten with tears when he looks at me.

We are still shaking with laughter as I hop on the bike and draw my arms around him.

The ride back is too short. We're next to my house in less than half an hour. O'Brien kills the engine and waits till I hop off the bike. I hand him the helmet and face him.

"Thank you for today," I say.

He shrugs. "My pleasure, Princess. I had fun."

I shift on my feet and smile. "Me too. Well, I'd better go."

O'Brien nods. I take a few steps toward my house when he says, "Yo, Kitten."

I turn around. "Yeah?"

"You're cute when you cry, just don't do it again. And there's something else."

"What else?"

Grinning, O'Brien pulls the mushroom dick from his pocket. "I bet Fer's is uglier than this boy here. I won't rest till you tell me the size."