Page 65 of Summertime Friends

Our eyes meet, and the horror of the look she’s giving me kills me a bit. Her eyes are bright green, rimmed in red.

“I want him to leave,” Emerson deadpans.

Natalie’s eyes are bouncing from Emerson to me. She probably wishes she had asked at least one question about us earlier.

“Liam,” Chloe glares at me and sighs. I nod my head; she doesn’t need to tell me. I’ll leave.

“Going to use the loo, then I’ll be gone,” I say.

Walking down the hall, I try to listen to their conversation.

“What happened?” Natalie asks.

“It wasn’t working. Brandon was upset that I said no to another venue and was disrespecting his mother’s planning.”

“You were disrespecting his mom? She hasn’t listened to one thing you wanted for the wedding! She didn’t even want me to be your maid of honor,” says Natalie.

“I know.” Emerson sniffles a cry. “At least we don’t have to worry about her now—maybe. I’m surprised she hasn’t called to go off on me about the split.”

“Emme, it had been a year of plan. . .” Their voices drift off as I close the bathroom door behind me.

I didn’t have to go; I needed to know what had happened.

Did I make this happen?

Stop being a prick. This isn’t about you.

I flush the toilet and wash my hands to keep up with the optics. Opening the door quietly to extend my time in the hall before leaving, I run into Chloe.

“Fancy meeting you here again,” Chloe sarcastically remarks.

“Chloe,” I growl lowly.

“I know she’s lying about why they called off the engagement. Her displeasure when you arrived with Natalie made it obvious thatyouhad something to do with this. I don’t know what, but I will figure it out. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to use the bathroom.”

She pushes past me, shutting the door withoomphbehind her.

I don’t think Chloe likes me.

I take a deep breath before returning down the hall. Natalie and Emerson aren’t talking, but the sound of a container being scraped clean fills the room.

I try not to focus on Emerson, but that’s a challenge and one I’ll always fail. There’s a brief smile on her face, but it fades when she catches me looking at her.

“Liam, would you mind running to the store and picking up some more ice cream?” Natalie asks me. She spins the container, opens it toward me, and frowns at the emptiness.

“Yeah.”

“A strawberry shortcake for me and Emme likes—”

“Cookies and cream,” we both say at the same time.

“Yeah. . . how’d you know that?” Natalie asks.

“Good guess, I’sppose.” I shrug.

“Hmm, okay. You can leave it outside the door when you get back.” She looks over at Emerson, who is scrolling on her phone. “We appreciate it!” Natalie sings.

“Anything to help.”

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