“Let your fake boyfriend hold your bag, Daze.” Jamie held his free palm out to me. “Hold my hand instead.”
I wrinkled my nose. “That was dorky,” I muttered, but slid my fingers between his.
Nellie had a strange look on her face, but turned sharply toward the beach. “Let’s go before my skin starts crawling.”
My flip-flops smacked as we walked across the parking lot, otherwise in silence. The sun washot; the perfect day for the beach. Jamie’s hand wasn’t clammy, but mine felt like it was, dampening further when we reached the loose sand. I paused to slip off my flip-flops while Nellie continued on, her strapped-on sandals not budging.
I straightened, looping my finger through the rubber part of my shoes as I readjusted my other hand on Jamie’s. “Make sure your acting skills are up to par to match mine,” I told him, shooting him a dirty look. “Because mine aregreat.”
“If you say so.”
“Better than yours.”
“Oh, really? Is that why you were gaping like a fish when everyone came into the guestroom?”
I scoffed once, then scoffed again. “You—you caught me off guard!”
“Right, right.”
“I’ll catch you off guard and see howyourespond!”
Jamie couldn’t wipe the grin off his mouth. It was so deep that his dimples appeared again, though not as deep as the other day. “I’d love to see you try.”
“Oh, just you wait.” I narrowed my eyes on the bay’s shoreline, trying to figure out how exactly to follow through on my threat. Flustering Jamie would be quite the challenge, but he deserved it. I’d come up with an idea somehow. “Be honest—did you pack a book?”
Jamie arched a brow at me. “Did you pack your sketchbook?”
A slow smile spread across my lips. Jamie’s lifted in response.
This was real—this banter, smiling at each other. Not that romantic weirdness from last night. Whatever butterflies that’d batted their wings must’ve been residual ones from the hallway with Dalton. They just… chose to wake up at the wrong moment.
Jamie’s eyes traced the spot on my browbone again. “I’m going to have to call social services,” he said, turning to face straight again. His voice was light. “If you keep showing up with bruises, I’m going to have to intervene.”
“At least it was the same eye,” I said in an equally cheery voice, watching Nellie scan the beach for our group.
His fingers squeezed mine a little tighter, but sincehis were so big, it hurt a little. “You’d tell me if something was wrong. Right?”
“Come on, Jamie. You really think I’m getting abused at home?”
“I’m just worried.”
And Jamie was the world’s biggest worrier. I shifted my hand in his, my fingers aching so much that I wanted to let go. “You know what, maybe youshouldtalk to the kids. Scare them into acting better.”
“So they’renotbehaving?”
“They’re fine—ugh.” I suddenly groaned, yanking Jamie to a stop and unwinding our fingers. “This isn’t comfy.” Jamie was so much taller than me that instead of our hands hanging at our sides, I had to reach up and hang onto him. Knotting our fingers pinched mine, so I cupped his palm instead. “Much better.”
Jamie cleared his throat. “You’re right. Much better.”
“Youguys!” Nellie called back to us. She’d nearly reached the shoreline, waving her hand at us. “I found them! Let’s go!”
Another boltzingedthrough me, and I drew in a deep breath. “She seems too excited for this.”
“If Nellie does anything, she makes sure she does it perfectly.” Jamie stared after her, squinting against the sun.
I wasn’t sure how Nellie had been able to spot the right blanket, since the beach was packed with towels and umbrellas, and it was only Beck waiting on a patchwork quilt they’d stretched out. He had on a black tank top and gray swim shorts, his sunglasses shielding his eyes.
“Hey, the hair turned out pretty good!” I said as we came close enough, grinning at the freshly bleached roots that mostly matched the rest of Beck’s platinum blond hair. Jamie and I had been there when Nellie started the bleach session, but we’d left for Lydia’s party before I’d gotten to see the final product. “Not that I was worried, of course.”
