Page 379 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Is that what I did when I pulled away from him last weekend? When I stopped him from kissing me? I saw him as a celebrity instead of a man?
“Flint, is it hard?” I blurt out, and he tosses me a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the road.
“Is what hard?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Living like this. Growing a beard to make it through the airport without getting mobbed. Spending a small fortune to outfit a woman just so she can pretend to be your girlfriend?”
He smiles. “Geez, Audrey,” he says, his voice teasing. “Want to make me sound a little more desperate?”
I grin, glad that he’s at least willing to joke about it. “If it matters, Ireallylove my new wardrobe.”
“That does matter,” he says. “I’m glad you do.”
“I do feel obligated to tell you that we’ll have to stay in California for at least three weeks for me to wear every single thing Olivia bought. Or,youbought. As it were.”
“I figured. I knew what I was doing when I asked my sisters to go along.”
“That was really sweet of you. I think I would have been overwhelmed doing all of it by myself. But what I meant was, is it hard being famous?”
He shrugs. “Yes and no. I’m kind of built to like the attention—it’s just the way my personality is—but sometimes the lack of privacy is tough. It’s why I moved back home. Things are infinitely easier in North Carolina than they are in LA. But I try not to dwell on the negatives. I get to do what I love. Not a lot of people can say that, so it doesn’t feel right to complain.”
“I feel that way about my job sometimes,” I say. “Once, I was out early in the morning collecting water samples from the creek that cuts across the bottom of your property—this was before you bought it—and I saw a doe and two fawns cross the path in front of me. The sun was filtering down through the trees, and the air was still and quiet and peaceful, and I just thought,this is my job.I actually get paid to be out here, to experience this magic. I felt pretty lucky.”
He’s quiet for a beat before he says, “I really am sorry I bought your research forest out from under you.”
I shrug. “The university would have sold it anyway. Better it went to you instead of someone building mountain condominiums or something else ridiculous. I know I was mad at first, but I definitely prefer what you’ve done.”
“Oh hey, I almost forgot,” he says. “I got a couple new pictures for you this morning.”
I sit up a little taller. “Of the squirrels?”
He nods. “There was a fourth one with them this morning, and I don’t think I’ve seen this one before. His tail looks a little bushier than the other two.”
“You can tell them apart?”
He smiles. “I couldn’t at first, but I like watching them. And the more I do, the easier it gets.” He nods toward his phone sitting in the center console. “Here. You can just pull them up if you want. They’re the most recent photos in my Favorites album.”
I reach for his phone, then hold it up to his face to unlock the screen. It only takes a little bit of scrolling to find his photos and pull up his favorites.
“See how the one on the left has a tiny gray spot between his eyes?” he says. “I’ve been calling him Coal Dust. The one on the left I’m calling Colleen.”
“Colleen? What kind of a name is that?”
“Are you kidding? It’s a perfect name. She looks like a Colleen. Don’t tell me you don’t see it.”
I chuckle as I swipe to the next picture. “And this is the new one?” This photo is of a slightly smaller squirrel with a much bushier tail.
“Yeah. I haven’t named him yet. But he’s new, right? Have you seen him before?”
“I’ll have to compare to my photos just to be sure, but I don’t think so.”
I scroll through the photos one more time, but then I swipe one too many times, and a new photo comes up. My breath freezes in my throat. The photo is of me, clearly taken that day we were in the pool together, only in this photo, my face is visible. I’m smiling, one hand lifting my wet hair off my neck and holding it up in a makeshift ponytail, and I’m looking over my shoulder with an expression that seems just on the verge of laughter.
Flint looks over and must see why I’ve fallen silent. “Oh, geez, Audrey. I’m sorry. That—I should have asked before I kept it. I just thought—” His words cut off, and he lifts a hand off the steering wheel to run it through his hair. He swears softly. “I must look like such a creep.”
I breathe out a chuckle. “I knew you were taking my picture, Flint. It’s okay.”
He nods. “I just—” He clears his throat. “I really love that photo of you.”
