When Summer gasps, Nate and Cory jump apart. It’s impossible to miss the tears in her eyes. “Sorry, I’m a mess,” she says, wiping the tears away.
“Cory, what’s wrong?” Summer asks, her eyes full of concern.
Cory laughs, but I’m not buying it. “I’m crying because I dropped the salad I’d just made. Nate was trying to calm me down.”
Yeah, definitely not buying that.And by the look on Summer’s face, neither is she. Even Joel’s expression screams skepticism. Instead of voicing our concern, we act like we believe every word and move right on, but I can tell just by looking at her that Summer is definitely going to seek answers later.
After an eventful start to the lunch, the rest of the afternoon is quite tame and normal. So normal, that I’m both relieved and annoyed at the same time. On one hand, Joel was right. Summer is acting like nothing happened. She’s still treating me the same as she did before we slept together. Meaning, she’s treating me as a friend who she flirts with.That’s gotta be good, right?
On the other hand, Joel was right, and Summer is acting like nothing happened. Like it meant nothing; it’s already forgotten, and she’s moved on. And that sucks. I mean, I’m not exactly looking for opportunities to bring it up, but I have been a little more handsy, just to gauge her reaction. A casual touch of her leg with mine, an arm around her when sharing a story. Innocent stuff. While she hasn’t reacted negatively toward any of it, she hasn’t reacted positively either. She’s basically ignoring it.
“Oh Sum, I forgot to ask. Are youtryingto replace me as the number one daughter?” Cory asks in a playful tone.
“Always,” Summer replies, “But what did I specifically do? I’d like to know so I can repeat it.”
“I don’t think you’ll be repeating it anytime soon. That record must have cost a fortune.”Shit!
Summer’s eyes slam shut, and her cheeks pinken. “It wasn’t actually—”
“You won the bid? That’s great. You mentioned he’d love it,” I say, stopping her from admitting my involvement. That’s not why I did it. I was going to donate that amount to the cause anyway.Sortof. I figured I may as well get something for it.
Summer eyes me suspiciously, so I wink and turn away. From the corner of my eye, I see a beautiful smile light up her face before she continues her conversation. And that’s the only reason I did what I did. I’ll do just about anything to see that smile.
When Joel and I say our goodbyes, after a surprisingly delicious meal, I want to punch something. I’m frustrated as hell with Summer’s reaction to me today. We both know there’s something between us, so pretending nothing happened is killing me.
Joel heads down the stairs, and I move to do the same, when a delicate hand grips my wrist, reminding me of the first time we met. When I turn back to Summer, her lips quickly and gently press into mine. “I’ll see you on Tuesday. For the film festival,” she says, before darting back inside without looking back. I don’t move. I’m stuck in a trance, staring at the door that Summer just walked through.What just happened?
“Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” Joel says, laughing as he runs down the stairs.
I grip the back of my neck and smile at the door, as though she’s still standing in front of it.Maybe there is.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Summer
Dylanarrivesatthreeon the dot to pick me up for ourouting. I’m calling it an outing because I’m not entirely sure how to describe it, and that seems like a safe option. Bouncing down the steps of my building, I burst through the front door with a big smile and almost screech to a halt at the image in front of me. In a ridiculously tight long-sleeved black tee, sunglasses, and a cap, Dylan looks like he’s ready for a double page photo shoot in a women’s magazine. In other words, way hotter than I’d like him to look for our d—outing.Oops. Almost said the wrong thing.
With a smirk that tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking, he’s leaning against his mammoth truck, feet crossed over at the ankle, completely relaxed. There’s definitely room for a penis size joke here, based on the aforementioned truck, but since I’ve now seen said penis, I can no longer joke about the size. Because it’s definitelynotsmall.
My mind offers me a thumbnail preview of our night together, and I realize too late that I’m biting my lip, lost in thought. When I meet Dylan’s eyes, he huffs out a laugh and runs a hand down his face, most likely to hide the tortured expression that resides there. I take a deep breath and bridge the space between us. “Hi,” I say and smile. He laughs again and offers a hi in return before opening the passenger door for me and helping me inside. When he settles beside me and shuts his door, I can feel the tension in the air. He’s as nervous as I am but trying to hide it. If only I knew if his nervous energy was for the same reason as mine.
I shouldn’t have slept with Dylan. It had the potential to ruin everything between us, and yet, I can’t bring myself to regret it. I could try to tell myself it was meaningless, but there was an undeniable connection. Every kiss, every touch, every word spoken shot off a spark deep within me. It was more than I’d felt before,andthe very reason I had to get the hell out of there. The second Dylan’s breathing evened out, I ran.Literally. Ran. And in record time, I was tucked up in my own bed, ready for sleep. Sleep that didn’t come.
I know it’s wrong to pretend nothing happened. I’m completely aware of how unfair and selfish it is. I’m just not ready to talk about it. I’m not even ready tothinkabout it. This entire mess is my fault, but rather than calling me out on my bullshit, Dylan seems to understand. He’s giving me the space I need, and God, I love him for it.Figuratively speaking. So, while Dylan’s plans for today sound very dateish, I’m hoping he’s happy that we’re here as friends.
The hour drive to San Francisco settled most of my nerves and allowed me to relax. Dylan hit play on a nineties rock playlist the second we got in the car and sang along for most of our trip. I tried to be subtle, but like a moth to a flame, I couldn’t help but stare at him in awe as his incredible voice penetrated my soul, distracting me from the outside world passing us by.
“We’re here,” Dylan announces, as we pull into an overpriced parking lot near the center of town.
Breaking myself from my daydream, I turn to Dylan and match his beaming smile with my own. “Where to first, leader?” I ask, with a nod of my head, pretending to bow down to his greatness.
“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.” He taps my nose with his finger, something he’s quite fond of doing, before reaching for the door handle. “Come on, milady. Your chariot awaits.” He opens his door and jumps from the car.
“Shouldn’t that line have comebeforewe got in the car to drive here?” I yell from inside the car.
“Semantics,” he says with a shrug, slamming the door and heading to the curb. I laugh before following him out.
The evening is flying by and going much smoother than I expected. The film festival was a blast, giving us plenty to talk about, and I even managed to convince Dylan to head over to Pier 39, despite not being part of his plans. There are so many beautiful spots in this city, but walking the pier is one of the few happy childhood memories I have. The breeze is cold, so I fasten my coat before linking my arm through Dylan’s and pulling him close. “Remember walking along this very spot, during Christmas, with the fairy lights covering the buildings, and the carolers on every corner? It was so magical; it was like a dream,” I say, wistfully.