Page 55 of Summer Love

She spits out powder, wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, and shoots me a glare. Her eyes are red and watery. The chalk, probably.

She blows into her palms and sends a cloud of powder straight into my face, stinging my eyes. I blink, take a step back.

“Mature as ever, Walker,” she says.

I don’t answer.

“Was this another fucking bet?”

What bet? I have no idea what she’s talking about. I shrug.

I go back to my students like nothing happened.

“Come on. Last set.”

Still cracking up, the kids do as they’re told. Dylan looks at me like he just watched a master class.

Behind me, I hear the click of a lighter.

Noah’s on his feet, cigarette between his lips, leaning against the post across from Evan. He takes a drag, blows out the smoke.

“You’re both five,” he says.

Neither of us answers.

I send a student to the pull-up bar and start counting reps out loud. My voice is calm, professional.

Chalk dust still hangs in the air. With an angry swipe, Summer wipes her face with the hem of her tank top and grabs a book lying at the foot of the bench. She doesn’t look at me as she leaves.

I do.

CHAPTER 20

Summer

The bell over the door jingles as I push it open. The white fluorescent lights of Coral Bay Market cut against the golden evening glow.

“Summer Hayes!” Luke calls from behind the register, way too pleased with himself.

“Luke DeLuca!” I say, matching his tone.

He gives me a big grin.

“See that? Didn’t even hesitate.”

“You want a medal?”

“At least. With a speech and a round of applause.”

I shake my head and grab a basket from the end of the counter. Luke’s still grinning when I head into the aisles.

I grab body wash and deodorant—between the work on the house and the gym, my toiletries aren’t going to last the week. For tomorrow night’s book club: a bag of chips, peanuts, a tub of guacamole, and one of hummus. Then I cut over to the pet aisle—a single shelf wedged between the cleaning supplies and the toilet paper.

I spot the dog treats. Dried beef, large-breed size. Perfect.

I set my stuff on the counter. Luke scans the items one by one, taking his time. His hand stops over the bag of treats.

“You have a dog?”