Page 73 of Our Scorching Summer

My heart sinks deeper into my chest. She was scared and alone because of me. “I do get it. I deserved every second.”

“You did.” Lily eyes me for another couple of seconds before walking over to me and pulling the mug of tea out of my hand. “So, what are you going to do to grovel?”

“Everything.”

Chapter17

Lily

The dayI turn down a man’s offer to take me on a shopping trip is the day I marry a billionaire.

Well, maybe not even then.

Thingsdon’t always make me happy, but they sure as hell don’t depress me, either.

“What about this one?” Nico holds up another micro-bikini. The fluorescent-yellow fabric is bright enough to sting my eyes. In the middle of each bikini triangle is an embroidered image of a smiling sunshine.

“Really?” I shake my head in disbelief. “Do you think I want the Baby Sun from Teletubbyland on my nipples?”

I know this buying spree is another of Nico’s attempts to apologize and get me to spend the rest of the summer with him. And because the shopping spree is coupled with a spa day, a restocking of all my skincare products, a new phone, and a guarantee that if he fucks up again, he’ll buy me my flight home—even if it’s $5,702—my stern front is starting to crack.

We haven’t hooked up since his mess up, and a part of me doesn’t want to admit just how much I miss thebenefitswe added to our friendship. Maybe I’m letting him off the hook too easily, but Nico’s some of the best foreplay I’ve ever had.

Is it so wrong to indulge in being wanted? Especially when I have to return to the horror that is dating in New York City soon enough.

Ugh.

“You’re right.” He hangs the smiling bikini back on the rack. “I should be looking for introspective, cloudy-day bikinis.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

Nico digs some more, and I anxiously anticipate what ridiculous option he’ll present next. I’ve never had a man be so involved in my outfit choices. Earlier this morning, I got out of the shower to find my new favorite pair of denim shorts and a black tank top on my bed next to a tray with a cup of tea on it.

“Okay, youneedthese.” He holds up a bright-red pair of bikini bottoms tie-dyed with hues of orange and yellow. The entire ensemble looks like a heavy-flow day gone wrong.

“Someone’s going to look at me and think, I bet her pussy is made of molten lava.”

“I’d argue it’s thehottestplace in the world.”

The chuckle escaping from my lips is involuntary, but Nico catches it, winking in return.

I hate being mad at him. “If you like the print so much, maybe you should wear it.”

“Great idea.” He holds the bottoms to his hips. “I think it’ll be perfect for surfing.”

The bikini returns to the rack, and the three overstuffed bags hooked around his forearm jostle to reveal red indents on his corded skin.

Have we really been shopping for this long?

We take another loop around the store.

“Speaking of class, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pass,” Nico says.

My stomach growls so loudly, I’m certain it could’ve been confused for an earthquake. I catch the woman beside me gaping at me.

“How does someone fail surf school?” I turn back to Nico, who seems oblivious to the orchestra of frogs that have made a home in my belly.

“It’s a crappy situation, really.” He shrugs. “To graduate, I need to take someone who’s not attending class on a tandem surf.”

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