Page 51 of Summer Love

If Sierra asks what I think tomorrow, I’ll have a hard time answering without blushing.

“Summer!” a man’s voice calls.

I jump. The book slips out of my hands and lands on my nose.

I sit up like I’ve been caught at something. The swimmer just pinned the girl against the locker room wall, and I wasn’t anywhere near the lodge pool anymore.

Evan crosses the deck, a gym bag over his shoulder and aviators on. He’s wearing basketball shorts and the gray Coral Bay PD T-shirt.

“House coming along?” he says, stopping next to my lounge chair.

“It’s a disaster zone. I spent the morning ripping off wallpaper and fighting with an ancient curtain rod.”

“Sounds thrilling,” he says with a smile.

“You have no idea.”

“I’m headed to the gym,” he says.

“The covered patio out back? I used to go when I was fifteen. There was a pull-up bar and two lonely dumbbells.”

“It’s changed a bit since then…”

A few steps away, Miles is serving a guy I’ve never seen before—in his thirties, tanned, a surfboard propped against the bar. Miles makes him a smoothie while they chat. His smile stretches a little too wide. His eyes travel over the guy’s biceps, packed into a tight Lycra tee that doesn’t leave much to the imagination.

Real subtle, Miles.

The guy says something I don’t catch. Miles laughs, tilts his head, and slides the glass across the counter. His fingers linger near the customer’s hand. The guy grabs his smoothie and his board, then heads back toward the beach.

“He’s not interested, Miles,” Evan says.

“You don’t know that.”

“He’s wearing a wedding ring.”

Miles pretends to pout for two seconds, then his eyes light up.

“If you’re interested, I’m free tonight…”

Evan rolls his eyes.

“Still no, Miles.”

“Because you’re scared of falling in love?”

“No. Because you’re my friend.”

“Same excuse, every time,” Miles sighs.

“Mind filling this up for me?” Evan says, holding out his water bottle.

Miles does, then watches Evan go with a resigned smile. I raise an eyebrow.

“No. Because you’re my friend.”

Not because you’re a guy.

Huh. Evan Carter. The boy who dated two or three girls every summer.