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“All right. Okay. To be honest, I didn’t tell Dash everything right off the bat either. But”—she holds up a finger to insist on my attention—“things didn’t start to feel real between us until I did. So keep that in mind.”
I nod, holding my breath, knowing Paige isn’t done.
“Friends don’t lie to each other about big stuff, and it seems like you want Dash and me to be friends with Summer.”
“I do.”
“Then figure this out, Cole. Find a way to tell her that works for you.” Her words have me preparing another nod, but she keeps going. “And if she doesn’t take it well, then maybe she’s not the person for you.”
That has my muscles locking. Paige makes it sound so casual. Like things not working out for me and Summer is somehow acceptable.
And that’s where we diverge.
“Let’s take these to the table.” I pick up my beer in one hand, grab Summer’s water in the other, then clasp Marianna’s beer with a skillful maneuver of my fingers.
Paige doesn’t stop me, and I hope that means she’s done with this topic.
Back with our group, Summer beams up at me and reaches to help with the glasses. I let her warm fingers brush against mine, remembering what it felt like to have them digging into my shoulders and tangling in my hair. I consider telling everyone I forgot something important in my truck and dragging her back outside to push my hand under her skirt again.
Which only reminds me that Summer doesn’t have anything on under her dress.
I sit down fast to hide the reaction my body has to that thought. At this rate, I’m going to be hard the entire night.
Summer turns her attention back to Dash. “How did you and Cole meet?”
Fuck. Of course she’d ask that. Summer wants to knoweverything.
Dash glances at me and I try to convey to him how important it is that he lies. Or evade. Or pretend to pass out.
“We were neighbors.” Not completely untrue. We did live right next to each other for a stretch of time. “Then we were roommates.”
Tension eases from my chest knowing that Dash has my back. For now at least.
“Oh right! You’re the mechanic! Cole gave me your number. He seems to think I need to get work done on my car.”
“And you don’t?” Dash asks.
“No. I do. I just think if I tell Cole he’s right too many times he’ll get a big head. I can’t have bigheaded people walking around my library, knocking books off the shelves with their ears. It would be cataloging chaos.”
“I love librarians.”
I eye Marianna, trying to ascertain if her comment is innocent or suggestive.
The woman smiles at the both of us, so I can’t tell.
Feeling possessive, I rest my hand on the bare skin of Summer’s thigh, just below the edge of her skirt.
Her eyes flick to mine, a tinge of red decorating the tops of her cheeks.
Maybe it wouldn’t matter if Ms. Tweep is interested. I seem to be able to hold the librarian’s attention, even with aNew York Timesbestselling author at the table.
Which means if this relationship crashes and burns, I doubt I’ll have anyone to blame but myself.
SUMMER
I have reached the chillest level I can possibly acquire while sitting at a table with Marianna Tweep. My gushing has been kept to a minimum, and the woman doesn’t seem to be searching for a quick exit or a police officer to put in between the two of us.
Success.
