“Okay, I’ll just check. It doesn’t hurt to ask, right?”
I did not see that coming.
I go into scramble mode—turning the TV up to hide my eavesdropping, pushing dirty dishes under the bed, throwing a pile of clothes across the room to the corner, and combing my fingers through my hair. I lie back just as a soft knock taps on my door.
“Come in.” Now I’m the one breathing heavily.
Summer pushes the door open. Her eyes travel to my bare chest, then to the ceiling. “Sorry. I didn’t know you weren’t dressed.”
I glance down at my sweats. “I’m dressed.”
“Do you not like wearing shirts?”
“You knock onmydoor at eleven-thirty at night and then judge me for what I’m wearing to bed?”
“You’re right. You can wear whatever you want in your room.” She nervously runs her finger along the dresser, grabbing my car keys and swinging them around her finger. “Ordon’twear what you want. Either way.” Her hand closes over the key fob, and instantly, the car alarm blares outside. Blinking lights flash through the window as she fidgets with the remote, trying to find the button that stops the sirens. She’s all craze and panic until the alarm stops, and she gently places the keys back on the dresser. “That was unexpected.”
“Summer, do you want something from me?”
I know exactly what she wants, but I’m not letting her off the hook that easily.
“Uh, yes.” She places her hand on her hip, decides she doesn’t like that pose, and switches to swinging her arms at her sides like holding still isn’t an option. “Justin and I were wondering if you’d be willing to, um…”—she clasps her hands together, looking up at the ceiling again—“you know, um…”
“Spit it out.”
Her blue eyes flash to me. “I am!”
“No, you’re not. You’re tiptoeing around whatever it is that you want.”
“Fine.” She runs her fingers through her hair, flipping it over to the side in her signature way. “I need you to stand in for Justin for the rest of the season.”
Even though I knew that was coming, I pretend to be surprised.
“Like stand in for Justin at work?” Playing dumb adds to my amusement.
“No!” she groans. “What do you know about running a business?”
“A lot, actually.”
“No, I need you to stand in for Justin as my boyfriend, like you did last night.” She bites her bottom lip, waiting for my reply.
“Why?”
“Well, you know, Justin is so busy, and my family is obsessed with whether or not he’s going to show up. My mom is worse than a junior high attendance secretary. It’s bizarre. So I just thought it would be easier to have you come for him and take some of the pressure off.”
“Easier for who?”
Her weight shifts. “Me and Justin.”
“And what do I get out of this?”
“Rent?” She gives me a half-smile like she’s testing her answer.
“Rent?”
“You said yourself that you owed Justin for staying here for the next month. This is how you can repay him.”
“I think I’d rather just pay him money.”
