Page 52 of XOXO, Summer
CHAPTER 17
SUMMER
“You ready?” I park a block down from the store and look at Daniel before we get out. Sunglasses on, ball cap in place, identity not hidden in any way, but I understand him wanting to try.
“As I’ll ever be.” He didn’t want to come, not because he doesn’t want to visit downtown Mountain Laurel Cove or hang out with Roman and me. He doesn’t want Roman subjected to fans, or, worse, have photos of his son plastered all over the internet.
I can’t relate to what he’s experiencing. It’s unique for someone in his position. But also, at six-four and displaying those shoulders, he’s not exactly able to blend into a crowd. So I get his hesitation. But for us, he came charging out of the house ready to tackle fame head-on.
Popping out of the car, I open the back door for Roman to climb out. We don’t make it onto the sidewalk before I’m waving at Joan from the coffee shop located up the road when she passes us. She does a double take at Daniel but doesn’t stop to chat, thank goodness. “See that store ahead?The Honey Hive?” I lean down to whisper to Roman, “That’s my sister’s shop.”
“Is there honey?”
Standing back up, I reply, “Oh boy, is there honey. Honey in everything.”
Daniel keeps his head down and asks, “Which sister is this?”
Over my shoulder, I whisper, “Winter. She’s a mogul in the making. I swear she’ll have a honey empire one day.”
He laughs as he strips his sunglasses off and opens the door for us. “I have no doubt, if she’s related to you.”
Heading straight for the counter, Winter hands a bag to a customer and wishes her a good day when she lays eyes on me. “In the market for some honey?”
“Sure am,” I reply, tapping the counter and glancing around the store. “What’s new?”
“We got this nougat honey bar that I can’t stop eating.” Reaching around, she takes one from a wooden display rack. “It’s wicked good.”
“Wicked, huh?” I laugh. She graduated from Boston University last month and brought home some of the local vernacular.
“Want to take one?”
“Bring a few home tonight.”
Despite a few other customers browsing, her eyes land on Daniel and Roman with their hands pressed to the ice cream counter as they study the selection. I smirk, my gaze following her as my shoulders relax. Leaning closer, she whispers, “These are the tenants for the summer?”
It’s only been a few days, but calling Daniel a tenant feels like such a disservice for how involved we already are. “They stayed with us for the past two nights. The pipes are broken over there.”
“Spring filled me in. So he plays hockey, huh?”
“He does.” I look over at him just in time to catch him wink at me.
Resting her arms on the counter, she says, “In Boston, they call the groupie girls who chase hockey players puck bunnies.”
“No.”But I’m not sure either . . .My mood infects my hunger, so I grab a candy bar from the display and rip the top of the wrapper off. “I need this, after all.” Taking a bite, she’s not wrong. From the first taste, it’s delicious, but it doesn’t make me feel better like I hoped. Does accepting Daniel’s offer make me a groupie?
Stealing another glimpse of Daniel, I’m frustrated we haven’t found time alone to work out the details. It would be easy money for me. I don’t have to pretend to care about him. I already do, he and Roman both. But I hadn’t been thinking about other women in his orbit, not really. Wonder if I should. “It’s good,” I say, once I swallow. I take another from the rack, feeling the need to stock up on comfort foods. and shove it into my pocket.
“Are you going to give me the details or what?”
No way would she know. I haven’t spent any real time with her in the past few days, and I haven’t told anyone about the arrangement. I don’t plan to either. I can only imagine the lecturing I’d get if my family knew I was selling myself in exchange for money. Wait . . . that sounds so much worse than the idea I came up with or the offer I’ve accepted. “What details are you talking about?” I play coy.
“You and the hockey player, silly.”
“Oh.” I laugh like we’re sharing an inside joke to throw her off. “I’d need more time than I have to share those details.”
She clucks her tongue at me. “Give me the short version.”
I step aside when another customer comes to the checkout. “Trust me, you’ll get an earful soon enough.”
