“I’m hanging up now.”
“But we haven’t talked about your sixty hours of sexual tension yet!”
“Goodbye, Alex!”
“Use protection during your community service!”
I end the call on her cackling, but I’m smiling despite myself.
I check my emails out of habit, and see a new one from Luzia. More information about getting paid and work regulations.
Troy still disapproves of the job. He sent me a few more messages about being a tour guide instead which I ignored.
And my parents? They acted like I’d announced I was joining the circus.
“Darling,” Mom’s tone signaled an impending insult, “you shouldn’t work in a bar. Come home for the summer! We’ll pay you to help with the garden renovations.”
Right. Because nothing says ‘independent adult’ like being paid to mow your parent’s lawn.
Plus, I’ve not spent summer here yet. It’ll be cool to see. Mountain Springs isn’t your typical college town. While UMS anchors the west side with its red brick buildings and manicured quads, the rest of the city belongs to wealthy tourists who drift in and out with the seasons. They own sleek mountain homes that sit empty most of the year, dropping in for weekend hikes or summer kayaking trips. The skiing is decent enough to justify their winter cabins, but everyone knows the real draw is the exclusivity – the boutique hotels with their infinity pools overlooking the valley.
Places like Luzia cater to that second crowd, the ones who want artisanal cocktails after their guided nature walks, who’ll drop hundreds on wine without blinking.
It’s a strange balance, you might find trust fund kids slumming it at college bars while their parents sip expensive bourbon three blocks away. But that’s Mountain Springs for you, a melting pot of all different kinds of people.
Getting up to sip on my tea, I remember that I haven’t told Alfie about the meeting tomorrow.
I stare at my phone, trying to compose the world’s most casual text to Alfie.
I type and delete three different versions before settling on.
Alfie Spencer
Hey! How are you? I arranged a meeting with Janine tomorrow. Yay! It’s at 11 to sort out our punishment schedule. Lol! That work for you?
Too enthusiastic? Probably. Is lol lame now? But before I can overthink it more, he replies.
Ok
One word. Of course, he responds with one word. What was I expecting, a sonnet?
I type again
Great! Meet you at the admin building? We can grab coffee after and figure out when we’re both free to start our hours
Send. Wait. Was the coffee suggestion too much? We’d just had coffee today. Very awkward coffee. Coffee where we’d discussed our hallway incident. Sort of. Maybe coffee was a bad idea. God, I don’t even drink much coffee. He probably thinks it’s weird that somebody who prefers tea would offer a coffee date.
can’t do coffee.
Right. Because obviously he doesn’t want to spend any more time with me than absolutely necessary. Which is fine. Totally fine. Did I possibly get a little excited over our one-time kiss? Absolutely.
The truth that will surprise nobody is…I have a crush on Alfie Spencer. There! I said it! I have a huge, fat, gigantic, mega crush. If I was still a teenager, I would probably be writing Tara Spencer all over my notebook with little hearts around it.
But I am now very aware that the feeling is not reciprocated, so I’m going to have to take that crush, and pop it in a little box. Lock the box. 50 times. And throw that box down a dark well in my mind never to be opened again.
Besides, I don’t want a relationship with Alfie, I don’t want a relationship withanyone, especially not my brother’s best friend who basically has emotionally unavailable written on his forehead. I’ve had my heart broken once before and I swore to never put myself in that position again. That’s why I go for flings, hookups, easy things. With guys who make it clear they won’t get involved emotionally. Perfect.
What I had possibly imagined with Alfie was a hot, secretive friends-with-benefits type situation. Some excellent love making, a few fabulous orgasms and no feelings.
