“You don’t like your job?”
“I hate it.” She sighs. “My boss keeps giving me more properties to run without a pay raise. I’m just overworked and tired of the whole thing, you know?”
“So why don’t you quit?”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Why not? If you hate your job and it’s making you miserable, why don’t you quit?”
“Because I need money, and the job options in Telluride are slim to none.” She taps her fingers on the armrest of the door, glancing out the window. “I don’t know. I just keep hoping that someday I’ll get married and become a mom and that I won’t have to work anymore.”
I haven’t met many women who talk about motherhood and marriage like Summer. Most women I date don’t act like having a family is the dream. To them, it’s a death sentence. And to each his own, but Summer is different in that way. I can see why Justin said she reminds him of our mom. Patsy Davidson's dream life was being a mom too.
When I don’t immediately respond, Summer turns her head to me. “That sounds stupid, doesn’t it? Like something someone would say in the 1950s.”
“It’s not stupid if that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want.” She stares at me in her genuine way that somehow encapsulates vulnerability, honesty, and sweetness all in one glance. If I’m not careful, Summer’s gaze is something I could easily get lost in, losing hours of my day. So I force my eyes back to the road because her parents’ house is up ahead, and somebody has to slow the car and park it. Since I’m driving, I guess that’s my job.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this again?”
I shift into park. “Your parents want to feed me a delicious meal. It’s not that big of an imposition.”
“They’ll want to play games too.”
“I like games.”
“I should probably warn you…” She leans in, a touch of flirtiness in her eyes. “I’m really competitive.”
I lean in too, meeting her halfway between our two seats. “So am I.”
Her lips tug into a small smile. “We’ll see.”
“I guess so.” I like the buzz of playful tension pulling between us.
“Alright,Justin. Let’s do this.” With that, she opens the car door and hops out, leaving me with the disappointing realization that I’m only here to pretend to like Summer.
Actually liking her is out of the question.
seventeen
SUMMER
“Janet, dinner was amazing.”Caleb turns behind him to my mom as my parents follow us to the door.
She taps him on the forearm. “I’m so glad you liked theflawtas.”
Caleb’s eyes hold a glint as they swing to me. How my mom pronounces flautas has been one of his favorite things all night. She just can’t quite capture the Spanish pronunciation.
“And Marty”—he points to my dad—“I want a rematch of Rook. I know I can beat you.”
My dad straightens with pride. “Nobody can beat me. It’s all about knowing how to play your trump cards.”
“Well, then I’ll have to settle for beating Summer.” He shoots me a cocky smile that should be outlawed for how dangerous it is.
“I just had an off night. I’ll destroy you next time we play.” I feel my mom’s eagle eye on me. She’s constantly watching us, assessing every single interaction and touch.
Caleb waves to my parents as he opens the front door. “Thanks again.”
