DAKOTA

The second I saw Conrad Hilton standing there on that gravel driveway under the sweltering Ohio sun, I knew this summer was going to be the most beautifully fucked up three months of my life.

Yellow Springs hadn't changed. It was still that dreamy, bubbling, small town where everyone knew your business even before you did.

But Conrad?

Conrad had changed in ways that should have been considered illegal.

He was my mom’s best friend’s son.

We’d grown up together right here, running through cornfields and skinning our knees on the same pavement until my mom finalized her divorce with my dad five years ago.

She’d dragged me to...