Every damn time she says that to me, my jaw tics. I want to reprimand her for her smart mouth, but I keep quiet.
“Oh, I like you,” Odette says with a grin. “You aren’t afraid to get sassy with this guy, who is, like, a total ass seventy percent of the time.”
“Seventy?” Summer laughs. “I think your calculations are off.”
I’d defend myself, but she’s right.
I know I’m a jerk, which reminds me that I need to apologize for being one the other day.
But not now. Not in front of Odette and Noah. Later.
“Speaking of numbers, I should get back to work. You too, Summer.”
Her eyes fall to slits once more, but this time, instead of arguing, she nods.
“Probably. Warner was just about to show me how to load a new keg.” She turns to Odette and Noah. “It was so good seeing you guys again.”
“You too! And text me,” Odette instructs her.
She gives them one last smile before hurrying away to find Warner, not bothering to spare me another glance.
For some reason my hands curl into fists as I watch her go.
Fucking Warner.
“What are you still doing here?”
Summer jumps at the sound of my voice, her hand going to her chest.
It’s late. The cidery closes in less than sixty minutes. She should have been gone hours ago.
“Uh, Warner had a thing come up. Something about his grandma, so I said I’d close tonight.”
“Warner’s grandma who died last year?”
Summer’s mouth drops open at the news, then she shrugs, shaking off her shock. “He could have more than one grandmother. You don’t know.”
I do know, because he lost the other one the year before.
He just wanted to cut out early so he could go to Hank’s for two-for-one tequila shots tonight. The money they raise is supposed to go toward the community center, but I know Warner isn’t there for that. He’s there to drink and have fun while someone else does his work for him.
Fucking Warner.
“Do you even know how to close the cidery?”
“Uh, what does it look like I’m doing?” She holds up the glass she’s drying. “Think I can handle closing out the register and putting the chairs on the tables. It’s not that difficult.”
“And do you know the code to secure the doors when you leave?”
“I—” She doesn’t. The way her face falls makes that clear. “I could have texted Warner for the code.”
She has his fucking number?
“Just go. I can lock up.”
She scrunches her nose. “No. I’m not leaving until we’re closed.”
“Summer, I’m telling you—”
