I should have known it would bite me in the ass.
“Not sure what you’re talking about,” I say.
“Can’t bullshit a lovesick bullshitter, Hawthorne. I kept seashells in my pockets for six years for Claire, dropping them so she’d think it was some kind of luck. I know a grand gesture when I see one.”
I sigh, realizing there’s no use.
“Have you told Claire?” I ask, not bothering to defend myself. He shakes his head.
“No reason to.” Relief washes through me. “Did you do that?” he asks. “At the casino?” I shake my head, then take a long sip of my beer.
“I might be lovesick, but I have no desire to go to prison.”
“Smart man,” he says, tipping his beer toward me.
“Who’s going to prison?” Grant says, coming over to where we’re sitting.
“No one,” I say quickly.
"Graham, if he keeps his shenanigans up with June."
I snap my head toward Miles because that sounds way worse than it actually is. Instead of correcting himself, he starts laughing.
“I’m sorry?” Grant asks, his anger looking more and more palpable by the moment.
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like?” he asks, crossing his arms on his chest and lifting an eyebrow. This is not good.
"I—" I hesitate, unsure what to say. Grant Taylor might be the most important person in June’s life; making him angry could easily end things between us. Before I can answer, though, Decker speaks up.
“Is this about how you’ve been intervening with all of her shit to make her dreams come true or whatever?” Decker asks.
“What do you know about that?” I ask, then far too late realize it’s an admission of guilt.
An entire summer of scheming successfully and three guys and a beer are going to be what brings me down, isn’t it?
"Sutton’s got a big mouth," he says. There are plenty of ways I could respond to that, and I’m sure June would have a field day decoding that sentence, but I don’t touch any of them.
“I’m not explaining my relationship with June, because it isn’t any of your business.”
“Fine. I’ll just call June up and‚—” Grant starts, and I know I’m fucked.
It’s all going to come tumbling down.
“Stop, stop. I’ll tell you.” Grant puts his phone away with a smile, and I realize the threat was empty. There’s no point in avoiding the topic though: it would only look worse.
“I’ve been…setting things up for June.”
“Setting things up?” Grant asks, and Decker lets out a snort of a laugh, clearly entertained. Miles sits, sipping his beer and smiling.
“Nothing bad. Just… She thinks she’s lucky, right?” Grant nods, crossing his arms on his chest. “So I’ve coercing with things occasionally so that things go her way.”
“Like?”
“He paid for the updates to her car,” Miles says, looking at me assessingly. “He asked me not to tell her. Told me to say she just needed a cabin air filter and an oil change, but then had me fix her air conditioning, the starter, and any safety updates it needed.”
“Why would you do that?” Grant asks.
