When I glance up, Summer’s eating her food, pretending she didn’t notice the awkward way I snatched my fingertips from her cheek.A wave of relief hits me.I'm grateful for her lack of awareness, even if it’s an act.
We eat most of the meal in silence, but when we get to the last onion rings on our plates, Summer pushes me to resume our search for the wayward lovers.
“Like I said, the agency is on it.We can start looking again tomorrow, though my guess is they’re long gone, if they were ever here.”
Her mouth pulls into a thin line.It's the Summer Grimace.I know it well.She's not pleased with me, but I can't help it.It's fucking New Year's Eve.
“It's fucking New Year's Eve,” I tell her with more of a whine in my voice than I would have liked.“We have plans.”
She drops her last onion ring onto her plate.Her grimace is still there, but now there’s also knitted eyebrows to contend with.Uh-oh.The Summer eyebrow knit can be deadly.
“What plans?I didn’t know about any plans that involved me.When did you have time to make plans for me?”
“I’m a multitasker.I can make plans and do lots of hot-alpha-pilot shit all at the same time.I’m gifted that way.”
She laughs.“Since when do you do hot-alpha shit?”
“Hey, I’d be offended if I weren’t completely secure in my hot-alpha shit-ness.”
Summer’s no longer amused.She doesn’t want to party with me and Bryttni tonight and I can’t really blame her.But I had to at least extend an offer.I have late dinner reservations.I have tickets to shows and clubs.She can tag along if she wants.
“I came here to find Evander and Phoebe.”
“Plans are already in motion.Our contractor is on the case.We start again tomorrow.”I say the last bit while I stand up.“I’m going to get us ice cream.”
She points at our empty glasses.“We just had milkshakes.”
“What’s your point?”
She scowls up at me.“This ‘we have plans’ conversation isn’t over.Do you hear me, Declan MacLaine?You do not make plans for me without my permission.Now, go get me cookies and cream in a cup with double sprinkles.”
“Summer, I damn sure know what kind of ice cream you like after all these years.”
As I hightail it out of the restaurant, I realize I have no idea where to get ice cream or if the MGM Grand even sells it, and if so, where in the endless maze of gambling and drinking and shopping establishments it might be hiding.
But I’m thankful for the break from Summer.She’s mad at me, but even when she’s mad I want to gather her up in my arms and finally taste those sweet, dark pink lips of hers.
This is a spectacularly not-good idea.Summer is the forever type of kissing partner, and I can’t be trusted with forever.In my life, forever is six dates.Tops.
I let my imagination wander.Let’s say one day I lost my fucking mind and kissed her.What then?Worst-case scenario: she sees it as a betrayal of our friendship, the one we’ve built over more than a decade.She could leave Yosemite Ranch, and I would never see her again.
Not worth the risk.
So there will be no kissing of an angry Summer or happy Summer or grimacing Summer or any kind of Summer.Because I need her to staymySummer.My friend through whatever life throws at us.The way it’s always been.
Besides, what am I going on about?I’m here with Bryttni, who’s new and exciting, smokin’ hot, and ready to go.And all I can do is think of Summer, my pretty friend, totally off-limits, and clearly not interested.
I mean, if she’d ever been interested in me, wouldn’t I have gotten a hint by this point?
I find the ice cream two floors down, and race back with our orders before they melt.I find Summer right where I left her, at our table.
But she’s not alone.
Someone’s sitting across from her.
A male someone.
The gym bro is blond, in black jeans and a tight T-shirt.He leans over the table like he’s about to lunge, then lick Summer like a popsicle.Bro’s captivated by her every word, smiling and laughing and checking her out from head to toe.
