Page 82 of Prime Time Romance

Spencer’s hands are sweaty and his breath smells like Doritos. More importantly, I realize with absolute clarity that I don’t want this scene to happen.

Not today. Not at all.

And the moment I acknowledge it, the sky above us rumbles as if it wholeheartedly agrees or thinks me a fool. There’s a crack of thunder so loud that I jump, pulling my hand from Spencer’s as a bright flash of lightning hits the ground somewhere nearby on the beach.

It’s a little too close.

It’s perfect.

“I don’t think we should be out here,” I tell Spencer, who looks crestfallen, but still nods in agreement. “We can make a run for Pop’s,” I offer. “Wait the rest of it out with a cherry chip milkshake?”

Spencer points at the fudge shop. “If we cross Main Street, we can take cover under the shop awnings all the way to Pop’s. But before we go, Sloan, I want to tell you that—”

I leap onto the grass before he can finish his sentence. The rain feels cool on my skin, and the wind, blowing stronger than it was a few moments ago, feels like a needed cleanse. A reset.

We sprint all the way to the sidewalk, and there’s another low rumble, followed by a flash of bright lightning just as we take cover under the red-and-white awning. My chest burns from the sudden burst of cardio. I’m soaked down to my underwear, as is Spencer, whose white T-shirt is noticeably see-through and clinging to his rain-soaked chest. He runs his hands through his hair, slicking it back save for a single lock that falls over his blue eyes as they fixate on me. I’m living out four years of teenage fantasies all at once.

“Where to next?” I peek my head out onto the sidewalk in a desperate attempt to find our next source of cover and almost collide with a large green-and-white golf umbrella.

“Whoa!” The umbrella lifts to reveal a very dry Luce underneath. “Hey, you two. What’s going on?”

“We got caught in the rain,” I explain, very happy to see Luce’s face. “We’re heading over to Pop’s for a milkshake. Why don’t you come with us?”

Luce shakes her head. “Pop closed his place up. He’s worried the storm is going to turn into something more. The only place in town that’s open is the Bronze. Apparently, there’s karaoke in there tonight. My horses like to be out in the pasture when it’s stormy like this. It stresses them out to be inside, and it stresses me out to think about them getting soaking wet in the dark, so I’m heading over there now to distract myself. Why don’t you guys come with me?”

No, not the Bronze.

As desperate as I am not to be alone with Spencer right now, the only thing that would make tonight even more complicated is throwing Josh into the mix.

“I guess we could.” Spencer looks at me. “Or we could head back to my place? In case it gets really bad and the power goes out?”

I know what happens in Carson’s Cove when the power goes out.

“The Bronze sounds great!” I say, despite my brain flashing through all the different ways tonight could end in a catastrophic clusterfuck.

Spencer shrugs. “Sounds good. It’s been awhile since I’ve sung karaoke.”

Luce lifts up her umbrella to make room for us to join her under it. We head back out into the rain toward the Bronze, where the off-key sound of someone butchering Shania Twain can be heard from half a block out.

When we finally do get inside, I hold out hope that this whole plan will fall apart because the place is so crammed from everyone driven in by the storm that there is barely standing room, but then Spencer points to a single unoccupied table.

“There! Over by the stage.”

There are three empty seats.

Of course there are.

“Luce, why don’t you take this one?” I nudge her into the middle seat, but our telepathy isn’t quite where it needs to be yet. A moment after we all sit down, she jumps up with a “I guess I might as well go grab us a round of drinks” and heads to the bar, leaving Spencer and me alone.

I catch a break when the music is so loud that you can’t carry a conversation, and then a second one when the bar is so busy that I can only see tiny glimpses of Josh if I really crane my neck.

I start to think that maybe tonight won’t be as bad as I thought.

Then the music stops.

“Hey, folks!” The voice of the emcee booms through the speaker system. “Thanks for sheltering with us. We’re going to take a quick break as we set up for the next few performers. Hold tight and get to know your neighbor for a few moments. We’ll be right back.”

Spencer reaches across our table for my hand. “Listen, Sloan. There’s something I want to tell you and I don’t want to wait any longer.”