Page 68 of The Summer List

A few strands of purple hair slip out of her elegant up-do to fall in reckless curls around her face. She lifts an eyebrow while she waits for me. Her grin starts to falter as she mistakes my pause for hesitation.

I’m not hesitating.

I’m just soaking up the sight of this perfect girl on this perfect night, ready to sweep me up into yet another perfect moment.

At the start of this summer, I would have turned away. I would have sat this one out. I would have laughed and told her she’s crazy for thinking I’d ever dance in front of a whole crowd of people in one of the busiest spots in Ottawa. I might have even admitted I have no idea how to dance.

Instead, I step forward and take her hand in mine.

CHAPTER 17

Andrea

Sandy’s cats come flying at us the second we step in the door, nearly sending one of the sculptures in the entryway toppling off its stand. Naomi stoops down to oblige them with scratches while I pull my heels off.

“These things are killer,” I say in a hushed voice as I wriggle my cramped toes against the cool stone of the entryway floor.

“I don’t know how you managed to dance in those,” Naomi says, keeping her voice quiet too.

We’re the only ones here, but something about coming home at night all dressed up to a mostly dark house still has that illicit, sneaking-home-after-a-party feel to it. Once Naomi gets her sandals off, we pad through the house on our tiptoes like we’re scared to make the floor creak.

“So…” I say, daring to be a bit louder once I’ve led us into the living room—or at least, one of the several living rooms—and flopped down on the couch. “What do you want to do now?”

It’s just past ten. We ended up dancing in the market for three whole songs before I persuaded Naomi to let me buy her a replacement ice cream cone for the one she dropped when I kissed her.

The whole crowd smiled and clapped for us when we stopped twirling around. In fact, one guy smiled a little too much and then stepped over to tell me I have a very pretty girlfriend as we were heading back to the ice cream stand.

Girlfriend.

The word is still bouncing around in my head, despite the fact that it was some random creepy dude who said it.

Girlfriend.

I played it on repeat the whole ride home, like that single word made up an entire song I could strum on my guitar, only I’m not sure I know the right chords.

I can play the Summer Fling song. I even managed the Boyfriend of Convenience tune for a while, but Naomi—

Naomi deserves a whole symphony, and I don’t know if I could give her that.

“Well…” she says as she sits down next to me. “We could…kiss again?”

She looks down at where the hem of that gorgeous blue dress is brushing her knees. I watch her curl her fingers around the edge of the fabric, and I decide all my thoughts can wait.

I shift closer to her. “I’d say that sounds like a pretty solid option.”

She huffs a laugh, still toying with the edge of her dress. “Okay, but first I have to tell you something.”

There’s a nervousness in her voice that tells me to lay off on the flirting for a moment. Instead, I shift so I’m facing her with my legs crossed in front of me.

“Of course. I’m all ears.”

She turns to mirror my pose so we’re face to face. “I don’t think I’m ready to have sex.”

I blink.

Whatever I was expecting her to say, it wasn’t that.

Before I can come up with a response, she squeezes her eyes shut and starts speaking so fast I can barely keep up.

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