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Chapter 11
Danica
“Let’s get you some Summersweet magic and a monstercock.”
“He’s got big-dickenergy, for sure.”
I immediately start choking on the coffee I took a sip of. Smacking my cup back onto the counter in front of me, I have to cough a few times before I can speak.
“You’re supposed to be giving me advice on how to make iteasierfor me to live with Ryan, not harder.” My hand quickly flies up in the air in front of Melanie, my waitress at The Barge, to stop her when she snorts. “I heard it as soon as I said it. Don’t you dare make ahardjoke.”
“Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it too,” she scolds me, wagging her finger in my face until I smack it away. “The quiet ones always have something hidden up their sleeves. Or in their pants. Nerdy in the streets, freak in the sheets.”
“You’re the worst,” I mutter.
“Order up!”
Melanie just smirks at me as the cook shouts and then smacks his hand against the bell. She whirls around to grab the plate he just put on the line and then takes it down to the other end of the counter to a waiting customer.
I met Melanie Warner my first morning at Ryan’s house. I walked into town for some fresh air after I woke up, and I stopped in to get some coffee and to sketch at a booth. We started chatting while she sat down at a table next to me to roll up silverware in napkins during a lull in customers, and she asked if I was Ryan’s new roommate. I liked her immediately, even though it made me realize living in a small town really did mean everyone always knows your business.
Melanie is only a year younger than me, is super friendly, and she is easy to talk to. She also just moved to Summersweet not that long ago, so it’s been nice to chat with someone who hasn’t lived here their whole life but knows all the people. From the little bit she’s told me, she has a fucked-up family as well, so we bonded immediately over that.
After that first morning, it kind of became my routine and something I look forward to each day. For the last week, I’ve walked up here to The Barge for coffee and to sketch. Except I don’t seem to ever get any sketching done. While Melanie is in-between customers, we spend the whole time talking. About Ryan.
I need an intervention.
“You just need to make a move on him,” Melanie says when she walks back down to me, crossing her arms in front of her and leaning her hip against the counter across from me.
“That’s exactly what Idon’tneed to do. Have you been listening to me at all?” I complain. “We’ve fallen into a comfortable rhythm these last two weeks. It’s nice, and I don’t want to screw that up.”
And not only because I heard from Stephanie at Sandbar Cottages last night that it could be at least another month before a cottage might be available for me. But because I just really like Ryan, and I don’t want to make things awkward now that they’re so easy.
“I like that I can trust him… and talk to him about anything, and he’ll understand,” I continue. “I like that he supports me, even though he’s hasn’t even seen my art yet. I like that he’s genuinely a nice guy who just wanted to help out his friend’s sister and doesn’t have any ulterior motives. I like that he’s sweet, and thoughtful, and always makes sure I’m comfortable. I like eating dinner together, and listening to the police scanner together, and fighting over who gets the Lego direction booklet first, and watchingGossip Girlwhile we drink our nightly cups of tea together. Did I tell you I told him I’d just make dinner every night, since I’m home all day, but he wouldn’t hear of it and made a schedule for us? He said it wasn’t fair—since we’re both working—that I always make dinner just because I work from home. And it just made me like him even more that he considered what I dowork, when no one else in my life ever has.”
I finish rambling, quickly tearing off a large piece of my blueberry muffin and shoving it in my mouth before I start getting emotional.
“Jesus, you’ve got it bad.” Melanie chuckles, reaching over and patting my hand.
“No, I don’t. I haven’t known him long enough tohave it bad.” Pieces of muffin spray out of my mouth when I try to protest with it full.
“And yet, you’re already like an old married couple, but without the benefit of sex. If you keep going like this, you’re going to be miserable and in the friend-zone forever.” Her words make the rest of the muffin in my mouth hard to swallow, and I quickly take a drink of my coffee while she continues. “I’m not telling you to rip your shirt off in front of him. That would probably give shy, sweet Ryan a heart attack. Something subtle, like leaning in close and grazing your hand across the top of his while staring into his eyes. If he doesn’t pick up on it, no harm, no foul. You deserve to at least see if something is there, don’t you?”
Right, except I tried that our second night together when we were out on the deck, and he showed me the scar on his forehead. I kept willing him to close the few inches of distance between us and kiss me, but he didn’t move. I don’t even think he was breathing when I touched him, because I freaked him out so much.
“So let’s say I do this, and he actually picks up what I’m throwing down, and then he just thinks I’m crazy like my brother told him. It’s not like he’s given me any signs he’s interested in me.”
“I’ve seen the kiss video. Pretty sure that’s all the sign you need.”
“Is there anyone on this island whohasn’tseen that video?” I complain, resting my elbows on the counter and my head in my hands. “That kiss was probably a complete fluke. Maybe it wasn’t even as good as I remember, and I’ve just built it up in my head. What if we try it again, and it’s weird and sloppy and awkward, and then we can never take it back? I live with him indefinitely right now!”
I also casually brought up that day at Giovanni’s during one of our text exchanges, and he freaked out so much he forgot to bring anything home for dinner that night.
“That kiss wasn’t a fluke. I would bet good money on it,” Melanie tries to reassure me. “And I have no money, good or otherwise, to make a bet with. It was hot. I’d kill to have someone kiss me like that.”
“You’d definitely have to threaten a life to force someone to kiss you.”
My head flies up from my hands when I hear a man join our conversation, and Melanie lets out a growl.
