“What makes you say that?”
“It’s my grandpa’s name.”
He lifted a hand as if to run it through his hair before realizing it was up. Scrubbing his jaw and looking pointedly away, he said, “Elliott’s fine, I guess.”
“Directions? Please.” This guy was unbelievable. How was he one ofBen and Liv’s good friends? She’d keep it short. Wouldn’t want to run the risk of offending him.
He inhaled slowly, then cleared his throat. “Sorry. I— Uh— hit my bong a little too hard.”
Ohho, maybe they had more in common than she thought. That also helped explain his strange behavior, though it didn’t excuse it. “You got it on you?” she blurted, deciding she wasn’t in that big of a rush and had put up with weirder people before.
“Does it look like there’s a bong in my pocket?”
Her gaze dropped to the front of his pants. “I’m not answering that.”
With a shake of his head, Elliott called her attention to his broad shoulders—broad everything. He was abigguy. About the same height as Able, if she had to guess, he was a little softer, more casual, more anti-social.
Leaning out the window, she asked, “Can I get those directions?”
“Oh, yeah. Go back to the river road, then hang right. At the first turn—the only one on the right—go up the hill. At the square—”
“Get to the opposite side and park behind Reads & Roasts?”
His reply was a silent nod.
The moment she fired up her engine, he lifted one of his big hands in a small wave, then turned tail and jogged inside. The screen door slammed before she could even roll up her window.
God, he was awkward. She didn’t remember him being that weird when they were on the same phone calls in the past. He was a treat to look at, though, even if his conversational skills were lacking, even if he thought she was annoying, even if he sucked. She’d just keep a buffer between them in social settings and enjoy him from afar.
Checking her phone before she drove off, she found a text from Liv.
Olivia
Where are you???
Fern
Got lost, sry!
On my way
Fern hit play on her audiobook and smashed the gas, spinning gravel beneath her wheels until her car found purchase—pulling a U-Haul was no joke—and she got back on her way. Things weren’t off to an auspicious start... but hey, it could only go up from there.
2
Elliott goes fishing.
Motherfucker.Crossingtohis kitchen island, Elliott grabbed his bong. He’d packed it but hadn’t had a chance to enjoy it before a car came crunching down his driveway, insanity blaring from its open windows. Someone had made a wrong turn—obviously—since his was the only house on Potter’s Lane. Turned out it was Olivia’s best friend, Fern Walsh, that annoying sexy brunette, showing up to completely rock his shit.
Watching her twenty-point turn was the purest form of entertainment he’d consumed all week. He hadn’t realized a car that small could pull a trailer that big. It was a wonder she hadn’t smashed into his front porch while trying to resolve her vehicular situation. There was no way she could see out the back.
He’d debated telling her she could drive behind his studio and loop around, but by the time he worked up the courage to get her attention, she was three-quarters of the way out. Plus, he hadn’t wanted to risk approaching her moving vehicle. The way she was handling that thing, he’d have been dead before dinner.
Plopping down on the couch, Elliott fitted the bong to his mouth, covered the carb, and took a long pull. As his lungs filled with that familiar heaviness, he waited for his raging anxiety to calm into something manageable. If that was possible.
He couldn’t believe it—could not fucking believe it. Fern was way too chatty.Waytoo extroverted for him. Dude, ninety percent of her job was yakking to people, and she was stellar at it. He’d heard it himself over months of Liv taking video calls around their friend group. Fern Walsh wasnothis type.
But there was no denying it, no matter what he wanted. The truth was clear as day the moment he got to her car and scented her. He was screwed.
