Page 348 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“Of course you can do it,” Summer says.
Lucy nods. “Just remember. You’re doing this for the squirrels.”
I repeat those words the entire time I’m driving to Flint’s house. He must have Nate watching and waiting for my arrival because I don’t even have to press the call button before the gates are swinging open, admitting me onto the winding drive that cuts through Flint’s acreage and leads up to the house. Here, in front of the house, it’s less woodsy and more just rolling pastureland. New fencing lines both sides of the drive,and I wonder if Flint is eventually planning to have animals. He grew up on a farm, after all—it probably wouldn’t be outside his comfort zone.
Pondering this question distracts me until I’m parked in front of Flint’s house.
I cut the engine but stay in my seat, hands still gripping the steering wheel.
This is stupid.
I am not sexy bikini material. Girlfriend material.
Definitely not Flint Hawthorne girlfriend material.
It’s funny. A few weeks ago, that name didn’t mean anything to me. And now, it feels like I see it everywhere. In thePeoplemagazines Lucy is always leaving all over the house. In my Apple news feed on my iPhone, though that probably has everything to do with the increased Google searching I’ve been doing lately. Itoldmy phone to show me stuff about Flint because I looked him up a few (or ten…maybe a dozen?) times. I even saw his face on a cookie down at the feed store. Apparently, Ann has always been a fan.
The only thing I haven’t done yet is watch one of his movies, for reasons I can’t quite define. A part of me thinks I don’t want to watch one, only to be disappointed. Considering my track record with movies, that feels like a real possibility. But a bigger part just wants to see Flint…asFlint.Not as the movie star he became when he was interacting with my sisters, but as the guy who works in his own backyard and invited me to eat with his family. If I watch his movies, he’ll turn into a movie star forme,too. And I don’t know that I’m ready for that to happen.
A knock sounds on my window, and I startle, one hand flying to my chest.
I look out to see Flint bending down to look through the glass. He’s wearing sunglasses pushed back in his hair, a plain white T-shirt, board shorts, and flip-flops. He’s dressed for the pool justlike I am, but on him, the clothes look effortless and easy. Like he dresses like this every day.
“You okay?” he asks, his voice muffled by the window between us.
I nod and unbuckle my seatbelt. It’s now or never, I guess.
He opens the door for me, offering his hand, and I slip my fingers into his, letting him help me out of my truck.
“Wow,” he says, as he looks me up and down. “You look amazing.”
“Oh.” I look down at my clothes. “I—honestly, my sisters made me wear it. I wanted to come in the Speedo I swim laps in and a pair of sweats, but they refused to let me out of the house.”
“You looked great in sweats the last time I saw you. But this is nice too,” he says smoothly. He moves toward the front door, talking as he goes. “Thanks again for doing this. Joni and I have been talking about the best way to grab a few photos.” He opens the door, holding it open while I cross inside. “I’ve got a few ideas, but please remember you have full veto power. Anything that makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to do. And of course, you’ll see every shot before I post anything publicly.”
I nod as I follow him through the kitchen and toward the back door that leads onto the patio. “Is there really a point to keeping my face hidden? If I attend the premiere with you, everyone will see me then anyway, right?”
“Yes. But we want the element of surprise on our side. If your face is visible now, before the premiere, odds are pretty good that someone will figure out who you arebeforehand.Then we risk people showing up at your house or your lab, following you to the grocery store. I’d rather spare you that drama as long as possible.”
“So, wait. Those things will happenafterthe premiere?”
He grimaces. “Probably. But we’ll be prepared for it. As long as we both stay isolated for a few days, interest should die down.”
“Stay isolated. What does that mean?” I ask.
He shrugs. “The easiest thing would be for you to stay here for a few days. That way you won’t have to deal with people knocking on your door. And you’d be close to your squirrels so you could keep working.”
My heart grows the tiniest bit when he refers to them asmy squirrels.But also, he thinks I’ll just stay here? At his house? With him?
Flint lets out an easy chuckle. “It’s a big house, Audrey,” he says. “I’ve got plenty of guest rooms. You can be on the opposite side of the house from me if you want.”
I press my lips together.
Am I really so transparent? Or is this man just really good at reading me? “No, I know. I wasn’t worried,” I lie. “I’d be happy to stay here. You know. For the squirrels. But I’m sure we can figure it all out then.”
He gives his head the tiniest shake, like he can’t quite make sense of me, but then his easy smile is back, and he’s tilting his head toward the pool. “So we’re thinking something candid,” he says, steering the conversation back to the here-and-now of what we’re trying to accomplish. “Maybe we’re in the water, your arms around me, the mountain view visible behind us, and I take a selfie that shows my face, but only the back of your head.”
He’s talking like he’s reading a list of bullet points, which goes a long way toward keeping me calm.
