Page 22 of The Romantic Agenda
“No, really.” She risks a glance up at him. Oh lord, please don’t let me throw up.“I mean it.”
“So do I.” Malcolm leans over and kisses her on the top of her forehead. “I’ll go so you can get changed.”
Frozen in place, all she can manage is, “But—”
“Ten minutes,” he says, as he walks out of her room.
Summer’s yellow polka-dot bikini, where the dots are hearts, suits her. “Oh my god, I love your swimsuit!”
“As do I,” Joy says without a hint of humbleness. Immediately she notices Fox noticing her with a bit too much interest. The easiest way to stop someone from staring is to subtly point it out to them. It isn’t a bad stare on his part. He’s looking respectfully, just a little too long for her liking. His shorts are the exact same shade of blue as her bikini. “We match. Imagine that.”
“We do.”
Joy tilts her head. “Do you ever say more than a few words at a time?”
“Why?”
Suddenly feeling mischievous, she says, “Because it’s usually the quiet ones I have to watch out for.”
“What?”
“You’re not fooling me.”
“I don’t— What are you talking about?”
Joy leans closer to him, whispers, “Seven words that time. New record,” and quickly walks away. She tosses a casual glance over her shoulder—his eyebrow is still arched in response.Got him. She pauses at the entrance to the boathouse before heading down the short set of stairs.
Malcolm is near the back, winding a thick rope around his arm. When he finishes, he pokes her in the side as he passes her to head for the rented boat. After he left her room, she may or may not have gone on a mini crying jag that thankfully no one was there to witness.
Using words Malcolm has heard before, and often, won’t help her get her point across. Lesson learned. She has to find a way to shock him somehow. Force him to listen to what she has to say without him prematurely assuming he knows what she means.
“Are you going to take pictures for RoT?” Summer suddenly appears by Joy’s side. “I could help. I takegreatpictures.”
Joy practically flees closer to the boat to put some distance between them. Summer keeps popping up like a jump scare in a horror movie—the risk of being startled by one is low, but never zero. “RoT?”
“Yeah! Oh, I follow you. I almost had a heart attack when Malcolm said he knew you, and then I did have one when he said you’ve been best friends for years.”
“You’re an influencer?” Fox’s rumbly voice snuck up on Joy like a thief in the night. And that was still only three words.
“No.” Joy inches toward the boat. She knows jack all about them, but this one seems nice enough. Sleek and pointy with a white racing stripe cleanly cutting through green paint. “I wouldn’t call myself that.”
Fox is silent for a beat too long, clearly thinking. “Would other people call you that?”
Six. Joy smiles, suddenly feeling ridiculously pleased by this development. Petty speaks to petty—she has a feeling he counted his words first.
“I like to dress up in nice clothes, do my makeup, take pretty pictures of myself, and post them on the internet. I can’t help it if other people like them as well.”
“Thousands,” Malcolm adds unhelpfully while offering a hand to assist her on the boat. “Hundreds of thousands of other people.”
Joy sits down on the blue cushioned seat. “What are numbers, really?”This thing doesn’t have seat belts, what the hell?
Summer giggles at something on her phone and holds it up for Fox to see as they board together. “Holy shit.”
Joy sighs deeply, assuming she showed him her Rule of Thirds account. “Thanks, Summer.” Typically, she likes to ease people into the reveal that she has the equivalent to the population of a small country following her online life.
“Sorry.” Summer scrunches her delicate nose. “I think that’s incredible, personally. I couldn’t ever imagine being that popular.”
“My sister would disagree with you. Every time someone mistakes her for me, she literally sends me a bill for pain and suffering.”
