Page 360 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Summer taps my knee. “Okay. Let’s treat this like a research project and start with what we know. What are the facts?”
I sit up. I can do research projects. “The facts,” I repeat.
Summer nods encouragingly.
“I ampretendingto be in a relationship with Flint Hawthorne.”
“Right. Good,” Summer says. “What else?”
“In exchange for my presence in his photos and my attendance at an event later this month, I’m gaining access to his land so my research may continue indefinitely.”
“Yes. Fake dating. Land. Got it.”
“I have been given no indication that our relationship is now or ever will be anything but strictly professional.”
Summer lifts her hand in slight protest, like she’s not quite comfortable with my last point.
“What?” I ask. “That’s a fact.”
“No, I know,” she says. “I was only protesting the use of the word professional. Is there reallyanythingprofessional about paying a woman to be your date?”
“He’s not paying me. That’s not what this is.”
“It is what this is. He’s not paying you withmoney,but he’s still paying you.”
“But he’s—”
She cuts me off. “I didn’t say I have a problem with it. I’m just calling a spade a spade. As long as he isn’t paying you for sex, you’re fine.”
“Sex?” I squeak out. “You don’t think—surely he doesn’t—” I press a hand to my stomach. “Oh, man. I don’t feel so good.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Summer reaches over and grabs my shoulders, giving me a little shake. “We’re getting off track. And I’m positive Flint Hawthorne isnotexpecting sex.”
“Right. Of course not. Because that would be ridiculous.”
“Totally ridiculous,” Summer repeats, but my thoughts are moving so fast, I barely hear her words. It’s like the minute she mentioned sex, my brain lost a gear and spun completely out of control.
Summer lets out a little laugh. “Still, can you imagine?” Her expression turns sly, and she bites her bottom lip.
All at once, my jumbled thoughts coalesce into something potent and sharp, and I reach out and smack Summer’s knee. “Stop imagining sex with my fake boyfriend right this second.”
Her eyes widen, and her mouth stretches into a wide smile. “Oh my gosh.”
She jumps up and runs to the door. “Lucy! You’d better get in here.”
“What! Why?” I demand. “Why are you getting Lucy? And why are you smiling like that?”
“What? What’s happening?” Lucy bursts into the room, her apron on and a wooden spoon in her hand.
“Audrey likes Flint,” Summer says.
“What?” Lucy and I say at the same time.
“That’s why you’re so freaked out right now,” Summer says. She turns to Lucy. “I made a comment about imagining sex with Flint, and Audrey immediately turned into a jealous she-bear and practically pushed me off the bed.”
I roll my eyes. “I did not push you. I smacked your knee. And I’m not jealous, because I do not like him. Excuse me for thinking it’s wrong for you to sit there, thinking about him like he’s some sort of—”
“World-famous movie star?” Summer says. She lifts a hand to her chest in mock exasperation. “How dare I?!”
