“Do you need our credit cards?” Gil asks.
“No,” she says. “Rooms are complimentary.”
“Huh? Why?” Chase asks, surprise in his voice.
Apparently, Calvin had never told them that part. Miles says, “Because you agreed to help with our marketing.”
“These two rooms are right next to Calvin’s.” Gabby hands them their room cards.
Chase grins. “Speaking of which! WhereisCalvin!?”
Hiding,he almost replies. After the debacle they had the night before, he’s not sure he’ll see Calvin ever again.
“I’ll call him,” Gil says, already on his phone.
Chase turns to Miles. “What have you been doing with Cal these last two weeks?”
“Hanging out, bonfires, going to the mall, karaoke.”Kissing.
“Hey! Where are you? We’re here at Hannah’s Inn,” Gil says to his phone and Miles’s heart thumps. “Yeah, well, Chase was bored out of his damn mind and we left early. What are you doing there? Come here quick, let’s hang out.”
When Gil ends the call, he tells him that Calvin’s at the bookstore down the street, and that he’ll be getting here soon. Miles didn’t evenknow that bookstore was still open.
“So, what do we need to do?” Chase turns to Miles and rubs his hands together, excited. “Post pics? Lives? Vlog?”
“Megan—she’s our digital marketing manager—has some ideas,” Miles says. It’s still surreal to say they’ve got a digital marketing manager. Even more surreal is that almost the entire Cloverlily band is staying at their inn. “Nothing fancy, really. Calvin himself posted a few stories, and it’s already a huge help.”
“Cal doesn’t even show his face!” Chase retorts, and Miles stifles a snort. “We got you, Miles! We’ll do everything! C’mere, tell us all the exciting things about your inn.”
“Go on and treat them to some of our sweets, Miles,” Gabby urges. “I’ll ask someone to bring your bags to your rooms.”
They head toward the cafe, where Matthew gets the hint and already has a tray with assorted sweets for them. He greets them and puts the baked goods down at their table, and Chase instantly brightens up.
Before walking off, Matthew shoots Miles a look that says,good luck.
“These are amazing,” Chase says, his mouth full of the strawberry shortcake. He wipes icing off his chin, and it gets all over his wrist, and he doesn’t make a move to clean it. Gil makes a disgusted noise.
Gil takes some photos of the sweets, and he posts it as an Instagram story. He tags the inn too, and Miles is exhilarated. Altogether, he’s pretty sure the pair has more than a million followers—fuck, they’re going to reach so many people.
“Let’s take a selfie,” Chase says, taking out his phone andcrowding both Miles and Gil into the frame.
Gil complains, “At least swallow first.”
“Heh. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Face going red, Gil swipes at him. Cackling, Chase puts a hand up and blocks it. Strange enough, Calvin didn’t seem to act like these two had anything going on, so perhaps all this teasing and bickering was just messing around.
“What’s your Instagram, Miles?” asks Chase.
When Miles gives it, they open up his profile—and they’re both shocked.
“You’re a hot-shot artist?” Chase bellows.
Miles shrugs. He pokes at his lemon tart, breaking some of its crust. Across the lobby, a group of teenagers who are passing by stop to stare. He’s sure that soon enough, word that more of the band’s at the inn will spread.
“Wait!” Gil scrolls through his account. “I knew your name was kind-of familiar. Miles Curtis… You designed our first cover.”
Chase gasps. He slaps Miles’s shoulder strong enough to knock him to the side. “What!? Why didn’t you tell us?”
