Page 24 of Romancing the Grump
I scramble to my feet, dodging a hairbrush, some kind of hair tool thing, cord dangling, and a book before I hold my hands up in what I hope looks like a gesture of peace and surrender. “Summer, it’s me!”
I finally lay eyes on her, and my face flushes hot.
The shirt and jacket Summer has been wearing all day are gone, and she’s in a thin tank top with tiny straps and silky-looking fabric. She’s decent, but it doesn’t look like clothing people are actually supposed to see. Her skin is flushed, her cheeks and chest pink, and her eyes are wide. Her cell phone is in one hand, and the other is clutching a hair dryer, arm pulled back like she’s ready to hurl it at me.
“Nathan?” She finally says.
Before I can answer, a voice sounds through the phone. She must have the call on speaker. “Summer? Are you okay? What’s happening?”
Summer lowers the hair dryer and drops it onto the bed. “I’m fine,” she says, her voice still holding a tinge of panic. “A left defender just bulldozed through my door, but other than that, everything’s great.”
“A left what?” the voice says. I’m guessing it’s a sister because it sounds a lot like Summer herself.
“It’s a hockey position,” Summer says, leveling me with a glare that makes me flush with embarrassment.
“I still don’t understand,” the woman on the phone says. “A hockey player broke down your door?”
I swallow against the growing knot in my throat. “I’m really sorry.” I point next door. “That’s my hotel room, and I realized the connecting doors were open, so I went to close mine, but then I…fell.”
My explanation sounds lame, and Summer clearly agrees because her eyes narrow.
“You fell?”
“Your door was unlocked too. I swear it was an accident.”
The woman on the phone giggles. “I bet it was.”
“Uh-huh,” Summer says like she doesn’t quite believe me. She tosses her phone onto the bed and walks toward me, stepping over the pillows littering the floor so we’re standing face to face.
She’s close enough now that I can feel the warmth of her, catch the faint scent of her hair, which I may or may not have branded into my memory when she fell asleep against me on the bus.
“You weren’tleaning on the door?” Summer asks. “You weren’ttryingto hear my conversation?”
I run a hand across my face. I am completely cornered, and she knows it. “Only enough to see if it was really you. But I swear, I didn’t hear anything.”
She purses her lips, her expression growing even moredoubtful, but there’s something playful about her eyes that eases the tension building in my shoulders.
“Pretty sure he’s lying, Summer. His voice sounds guilty.”
I look at the phone and lift my eyebrows in question.
“My sister, Lucy,” Summer says. “Lucy, this is Nathan.”
“TheNathan?” Lucy gasps. “Oh, gosh. I just said that out loud, didn’t I?”
Ha. So they were talking about me.
Summer’s jaw tightens, and her eyes widen the slightest bit, like she can’t quite believe Lucy’s words, but she doesn’t break my gaze. “You did. But since Nathan alreadyeavesdroppedon our conversation, he already knew we were talking about him.” She leans forward the slightest bit. “Didn’t you, Nathan?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping!” I quickly say. “At least…not on purpose.”
“And yet, you were leaning against the door enough to fall through it,” Summer says. “Was that also an accident?”
It’s suddenly very easy to imagine Summer in a courtroom. This cross-examination hasn’t been going on longer than thirty seconds, and I’m already sweating.
“Uh-oh, that’s her attorney voice,” Lucy says. “Better tell the truth, Nathan.”
Fire flashes in Summer’s eyes, a smile playing around her lips.
