Page 65 of Summer Ever After
One second, he’s turning my whole world upside down with his charm, and then the next, he’s moved on with his life.
Walker
It’sthe first day of the U.S. Open.
The only thing worse than not making the cut in a golf tournament is not competing, and today, I’m not competing—like some kind of scared pansy.
I’ve been doing my best to stay busy so I don’t end up in front of the TV all day and night, feeling sorry for myself.
First, I worked out, then met Pete at the driving range and hit five buckets of balls until he ran out of things to say. Actually, he did say one last thing: ‘A bad attitude is worse than a bad swing.’ Advice that I deserved to hear.
Ever since Tuesday night, I’ve been in a bad mood.
It could have something to do with Jane and her plan to date every guy on this island. Well, every guybesidesme. Just another thing I’m not competing in. And I can’t decide what I hate missing out on more: the U.S. Open trophy or Jane’s heart.
To be honest, I’m ticked about both.
And now she’s on a blind date with some guy I don’t know, which is worse than her going out with Dustin Pearce, because at least I knew Dustin wasn’t going to cut her up into tiny pieces and hide her body in his trunk, and the blind date guy probably will.
This isn’t me being dramatic. Jane is worried for her safety too.
I stopped by Tala’s house earlier and happened to see a worrisome text thread between Capri and Jane. I even snapped a picture of it over Capri’s shoulder to refer back to later. And by later, I mean now.
My eyes drop to my phone and the picture of Jane’s text to Capri.
Jane
Meeting a guy tonight named Brian at this pin. Here’s his profile picture so he can be brought to justice if you never hear from me again.
Capri
You got it, girl. Have fun!
I zoom in on the suspect's profile picture. Even the best prosecutor would have a tough time convincing a jury to convict this guy based on his picture. The photo is dark, there’s a weird shadow over his face, and he’s wearing a hat. We’re going to need Brian’s DNA to really avenge Jane’s death.
What am I even talking about? I must be sick in the head. I rake my fingers through my hair, blowing out a heavy breath.
My phone dings with a new text alert. It’s from Beach Break Bar. My order is ready for pickup—that’s convenient since I pulled off the side of the road one minute from the restaurant, waiting for it to be done. I turn Stan’s golf cart back on—thankfully, I got it back from Dax earlier this week—and drive the short distance to the restaurant parking lot.
All the windows are open, letting in the summer breeze and letting out The Beach Boys song playing on the jukebox.Several tables are full with guests, but the real dinner rush hasn’t started yet.
I stop at the hostess's desk. “I just got a text that my order is ready.”
“What’s the name?”
“Walker Collins.” At the mention of my name, someone moves at the bar, glancing over their shoulder. I swing my gaze and see a beautiful woman in a summery skirt and a T-shirt.
“I’ll go grab your order from the bar,” the hostess says, but I’m already walking there myself.
“It’s alright. I got it.”
Jane shoots me a reserved smile—the guarded one I hate, which happens to be her favorite one to give me. I have to work hard to get the real-deal smile, but when I do, it never disappoints.
“Are you stalking me?”
“I’m just picking up my dinner.” I take the seat beside her. “What about you? Shouldn’t you be on a blind date tonight?”
“Brian will be here any minute.”
