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CHAPTER11
Chloe
Amanda offered to help me today to apologize for interrupting Peyton and me for a second time. Ryan was working, and she wasn’t interested in hanging out at the beach without him. I think Amanda was a smitten kitten for the boy next door.
Though I was a little disappointed, I would not allow Amanda to feel guilty. This was her home for the summer. She should not have to sanction her coming and goings because I allowed Peyton Manos to lead me astray.
God, how I wanted him to lead me astray.
I never felt that instant lust with anyone before. The want and desire coursed through my veins and burned like hot molten lava. And don’t get me started on what he did to my girly parts. That bitch screamed at me for neglecting her and letting Peyton walk out the door. I rewarded her in the shower last night with the new pulsating shower head I installed.
I was not a one-night stand kind of woman. I’d gravitated towards scholars like myself. I was a curvy bookworm. I spent my free time in libraries and second-hand bookstores. I never attended sporting events. And I never considered the tall, muscle-bound alphas potential boyfriend material.
Maybe it was time to open my mind to the possibility that Peyton Manos was more than a jock. What I knew about the hot Shake Shack owner could fit in a thimble.
I should invite Peyton to dinner and get to know him better. Argh, why hadn’t I done that last night before I let him kiss me? Kiss was too sweet a word for what I wanted Peyton to do. Devour, consume, make me forget my name all come to mind.
I completed my temperature checks on the freezers and left Amanda to finish the opening prep work. Something was crackling between Peyton and me. I wanted to explore it. I had never taken the initiative to ask a man for a date. Today was a good time to start. I stopped at the back entrance of the Shake Shack and took a fortifying breath. I opened the door with every ounce of confidence I could muster.
Peyton was standing with his back to the door, hugging a tall willowy blonde. She raised her head that was tucked against Peyton’s broad shoulder. At my gasp, Peyton swung his head around. His eyes widened with surprise.
Watching me gawk like a stupid schoolgirl was a smirking Nancy.
I slowly stepped back, almost comically. Had I not been entirely embarrassed, I would have found it amusing.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid, Chloe,” I mumbled to myself as I hurried down the boardwalk toward Catherine’s Sweet Treats. What possessed me to think that Peyton Manos was anything other than a player? I released a loud sigh. Peyton hadn’t done anything wrong. It was I who let my guard down, thinking something was blossoming.
Oh hell, listen to me. Blossoming. I need to kick my romantic ass to the curb. Last night meant nothing to Peyton. All that happened between us was old-fashioned lust. Peyton was an attractive, virile male. Add his charm and trust fund, and he must have women throwing themselves at him. And I’d had the pleasure of witnessing it. Case in point, Nancy wrapped around him like a spider monkey.
I returned to Catherine’s with less pep in my step, and it did not go unnoticed by Amanda.
“Did that idiot turn you down?” Amanda popped her hip against the counter and eyed me suspiciously.
“He had other plans,” I told her. I wasn’t ready to give Amanda the blow-by-blow of what went down.
What had gone down?
I walked in on Peyton hugging his high school sweetheart. Then the obvious hit me. Oh my god, I am an idiot. Of course, Peyton was still hooking up with Nancy. She, too, was a local. They ran in the same influential social circle. Nancy was tall and slender, with long blond hair and blue eyes. She was the epitome of the trophy wife Aunt Catherine scoffed at.
Where was Nancy last week? Was I merely a distraction while Peyton waited on her return?
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Chloe? I can hear you thinking from over here,” Amanda mused.
“Nothing,” I lied. “We have to unlock the doors if we plan on selling any ice cream today,” I deflected.
“Fine,” Amanda huffed. “But I will find out what McHottie Shake Shack did to put you in this funk. Especially when you started the day all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” she giggled.
I handed off the task of tweeting to Amanda. I wasn’t interested in engaging with Peyton Manos. Not even from afar.
Yesterday, I called Mari from the library, inquiring when a decision would be made about the internship. She told me that the board met Friday. All applicants would receive an email today regarding their status. This also applied to volunteers. The email would inform you if you’d been accepted or put on a waiting list.
Mari was the head librarian but not a board member, which was a shame. I had a great rapport with Mari and the other women who worked at the library. I doubted any of them were asked for their opinions of whom they would choose.
We’d merely been open half an hour, and my patience was thin. I checked my phone every two minutes. Amanda finally snatched it out of my hand. “I’m keeping this for a while,” she eyed me cautiously.
Amanda should be worried. She was holding my future in her hands. As we stood in a silent standoff, my phone rang.
I quickly propelled toward Amanda and took possession of my cell. I looked down at the screen. “Oh my god, it’s the library,” I squealed. Indeed, they must be calling to give me good news. Rejections come in an impersonal email.
“Hello,” I answered enthusiastically.
