Page 8 of Very Unlikely
Everyone thought I had a thing for her, and like all men, when one of their ‘friends’ gets a shiny new toy, they wanted to test out her features before I had even removed her from her ‘90s getup.
“Mal was dating someone. Sean picks his nose in public…” I can’t not grin about the disgust in her tone, “… and David told me to call him when I get a boob job.”
Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say my ‘friends’ were worthy of her time. I simply said they were interested.
Summer has a beauty not many people appreciate these days, and when you pair it with her natural I-don’t-give-a-fuck-what-you-think-about-me attitude, a lot of men come away from their exchanges scared and somewhat vulnerable.
Excluding the messy bun look most mother’s rock, her hair is rarely styled. She doesn’t wear makeup since I told her nude is better than retro blue, and despite my efforts to steer her away from the wardrobe she plucked from both her mother and father’s closet, she wears clothes she feels comfortable in.
She’s still a fucking mess, but since she can sniff a psychopath from ten miles out, I’ve let her warped sense of style off lightly the past three years. I’ve also not had a single beverage thrown into my face since we joined forces. That’s a record for an average jock, not to mention one with a name as highly recognizable as mine.
After rolling out of the bed and shoving my feet into a pair of shorts to hide my boner, I spin around to face Summer. “You’re using the gift Indigo got you.”
Her eyes bulge as effectively as mine when I imagine her in a position I shouldn’t from her asking, “Now?”
Call me conceited, but even if the zipper in my shorts is made out of titanium, there’s no way it isn’t bending under the pressure of my cock right now. I’m not just imagining Summer in many compromising situations, I am also picturing her doing it in the sexy scientist getup she donned when she believed no one would like her for her. She unkinked her hair, hid the tiny freckles that adorn her nose with a heap of foundation, then tried to dull the innocence in her eyes with thick-rimmed glasses, having no clue the person she matched with found her nerdy self more endearing than her sexy scientist persona.
I just have the occasional relapse when I forget we shook on a no-touch agreement.
After recalling the amended terms Summer added to our collaboration, I reply, “Not now, but one hundred percent before we get to Ravenshoe.” I gesture my hand between us. “I can’t do this for ten weeks straight. It will kill me more than my mojo being decommissioned for the summer.”
With the glint in her eyes evil and her lips curled into a shit-eating grin, she slips out of bed and moseys toward the bathroom. “I’ll be ready to leave in ten, Simple Simon. That’s one of the benefits of being the DUFF.”
Before I can assure her she isn’t the designated ugly fat friend, she enters the bathroom and closes the door behind her, pardoning me to adjust the raging hard-on her grind-up instigated before her smile wholly pioneered it.
I never said I wasn’t attracted to my best friend.
I just know we can never be if I don’t want to hurt her like my father did my mother.
“Over easy,” I interrupt when the waitress asks Summer how she’d like her eggs. “Alwaysover easy.”
The waitress barely skips away from our table three steps when Summer’s fist lands in my stomach. “You know my eggs are going to come out runny now, don’t you?” She flicks away a curl that wrangled itself free from her messy bun like she’s nowhere near as smart as she is before dropping her voice to the same low level. “Then she’ll have even more chance of taking you home for the night.” Her gag has the patrons around us sniffing their food to make sure it hasn’t gone sour. “It’s seven in the morning, for crying out loud. Do people not have morals at this time of the day?” After taking in my twinkling eyes, she asks on a more serious note, “Are you sure this is within our budget? I may not get a summer job since I’m not local.”
“It’s Denny’s,” I reply, my croaky voice exposing I’m on the cusp of laughing.
Summer’s worry isn’t entirely her fault. I’ve lived the frugal life of a student for the past three years because I hate what my father’s money did to him. It took him from a man to a boy, and time and time again, he used it to hurt my mother. I wouldn’t touch it at all if I didn’t believe a majority of it belonged to my mom. Since she’s no longer here to spend it, I occasionally use it. It’s rare, but I can’t say nonexistent—yet. That day is coming after summer break. Hopefully, very soon.
“Alright, but if your fluttering lashes cause a re-run of the mass exodus I endured yesterday, remember, you brought it on yourself. I don’t care what time it is. Psychos don’t have to stick to a schedule like zombies. They roam the streets for victims at all times of the day and night. More times than not, they pick up the brainless idiots the zombies left behind the following morning.” Her brow arches as her lips thin. “You need to be careful, Lenigan69.Extremelycareful.”
I toss my napkin into her face, wordlessly cautioning her about the use of her hideous nickname in public before I stand to my feet.
“Where are you going?” Summer pushes out in a hurry, shocked.
I can feel her swoony eyes from here when I say, “To the kitchen to make sure they cook your eggs right.” The heat bounding out of her intensifies when I add, “Because there’s no way I’ll survive the sulfurs of hell two days in a row.” It has nothing to do with infatuation and everything to do with the honesty of my statement.
My eyes stray to Summer when she whispers, “Three…trailersup.”
“This one?” I ask while slowing at the front of a single-wide trailer with a large blue truck parked out the front.
She wets her lips before bobbing her head. I think her quiet stems from embarrassment but learn otherwise when she whispers, “He remembered we were coming. He lit Mom’s candle.”
Summer’s mother has also passed. Cancer took her eight years before mine. Her treatment, then ultimately her funeral wiped out their family savings, meaning Summer and her dad had to move to a trailer park on the outskirts of town. Although it wasn’t the ideal setting to raise a daughter, between him and the mechanics he supervises daily, Rye got Summer through both middle school and high school before shipping her off to a college usually out of most dual-income parents’ league, let alone a single father.
Summer works at Books N Bites to help pay for her tuition, but I don’t think she fully comprehends how much of her father’s salary goes toward her schooling each year. He’s snowed under, and my foot almost piercing through the front stairs when we climb them is a sure-fire sign of this fact, much less the out-of-date tags on her daddy’s truck.
“Are you sure you want to stay here, Lennox? There’s a motel two blocks over. My Aunt Trace works there. She could get you a discount.”
“Did your dad say it was okay for me to stay?” When she sheepishly nods, I reply, “Then I’m fine staying here. It’s kind of cool.”
