Summer Ever After: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

Chapter 13

“So this was fun,”I say to Blake once the game is over.

Fun, but something I never want to repeat again.

Watching Walker Collins play coed softball is almost as bad as watching him play golf. He looks ridiculously handsome, and a piece of your heart goes over to the dark side each time he does something athletic, which is basically every two seconds.

“Are you headed home?” Blake asks. “Because I can give you a ride in a half hour or so. I just have to clean everything up first.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m going to walk.” And save myself the trouble of listening to you talk about Fortnite the entire time.

“Alright, well…” He looks like he might go in for a hug, but I stop that by holding my hand up for a high five. He hesitates before committing to the five. “I guess I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Yep.” I turn and leave before anything else can be said, but Blake has already moved on from me.

“Hey, Walker? Can I get that jersey back?”

“Actually, I was wondering if I could keep it. It has sentimental value to me.”

Sentimental value? Yeah, right—he said that loud enough just for me to hear.

“I guess that’s okay.” Does Blake have to be such a pushover?

I’m only twenty feet from the field when Walker calls my name. “Jane, hold up.”

I immediately hate myself for how my feet slow. I’m the worst friend ever.

“If you’re asking for another ride, I didn’t drive here,” I say over my shoulder.

He bumps his body into mine as he catches up. “No, I just wanted to say thanks for wearing my jersey. I hope I made you proud.”

“I didn’t wear your jersey. I was supporting the team.”

“By wearing my number.” He shoves his hands in his pocket, casually walking beside me. “How did your date with Blake go?”

Play dumb. It never fails. “What date?”

“The one Blake said you two were on.”

Blake can’t be trusted.

“It was a friendly brunch. Nothing more.”

“You seem to be going out with a lot of guys this week. Are you after some kind of world record or something?”

My chin lifts. I will not let Walker get the best of me. “I can’t help it if I’m desired.”

“All these dates wouldn’t have anything to do with the Summer of Jane Hayes, would they?”

It’s time for another subject change. “Shouldn’t you be practicing your golf swing?”

“It’s my day off.” I feel his grin on me. “Want to hang out?”

I immediately shake my head. “Nope.”

“Oh, come on. We could go to the beach. We can even invite Capri to come too.”

The last thing I need is for the three of us to hang out together. I’m good at hiding my feelings for Walker, but I’m not that good at hiding them, especially given how much he’s upped his flirt game since coming to town.

“Since when do you want to hang out with Capri?”

“Since it’s the only way I can hang out with you.”

Every alarm goes off in my brain—it’s like a four-alarm fire up there. Part of our BFF Code of Conduct was never to use each other to get close to our cool family members. I’m sure the opposite is true as well. Never let Walker use Capri to get close to me.

“How about you just hang out with Capri all by yourself?”

His teasing charm fades into something more serious. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

If last night is any indicator, Walker is telling the truth, but I act like I didn’t notice how painful the whole evening was for him.

“Oh, come on. You hung out with Capri last night and did just fine.”

“No, I was present while the rest of you hung out. Everybody was kind enough to tolerate me showing up.”

“No one was tolerating you. You’re part of the Collins family. You just need to act like it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve been close to your family for years, so I feel like I have a pretty good insight into the inner workings. From my point of view, you distance yourself from everyone for no reason. It doesn’t make sense.”

At least, that’s the conclusion I came up with last night.

“I’m not distancing myself.” One pointed stare from me has him reconsidering his answer. “Okay, fine. Maybe I do put space between me and my family. I’m not trying to. It’s just been that way for so long it’s hard to reverse.”

The sidewalk ends, causing us to walk along the shoulder of the road.

“It’s not hard to reverse. Your mom and your sisters want to have a closer relationship with you, so just put forth a little effort, and voila?! They’ll reciprocate your effort, and you guys can all be close again.”

“Voila??”

“Yeah.”

Loud music plays behind us, and we both look over our shoulders. Two golf carts speed down the road in our same direction, riding close to the edge where we’re at. Walker grabs my shirt, forcibly tugging me away from the line, switching places with me so he’s the one closest to the road.

I stare up at him, blinking.

Why is that the most romantic thing any guy has ever done for me?

It falls under the category of a protective male character. He’d rather be the one to get hit by a car than me, and I’m here for it. Not because I don’t want to die—there’s that—but also because it’s comparative to all the 1,820 fictional gentlemen I’ve read about in books.

Walker Collins is a gentleman.

I don’t think I’ve ever swooned this hard in real life.

The speeding carts zoom by, but Walker doesn’t seem to notice them or my swooning. “Of course someone like you thinks family relationships are easy and will all work out.”

I need to get my head back in the game and remind myself what we’re even talking about right now.

“Someone like me?”

“Jane, your red flag is that you don’t have any red flags. You’re constantly flying green flags. You grew up in the easiest family dynamic ever. Lots of money. Famous parents who adore you.”

“So you’re saying my life was easy because my parents are rich and famous?”

“Wasn’t it easy?”

“Yes.” I smile, catching his I-told-you-so look. “But there were also some hard things. When you have no siblings and your parents are gone all the time for work, you have to look elsewhere for a family. That’s where Capri came in. Your family became my family. They’re the perfect people to have in your corner. That’s how I know that if you just try with them, it will all work out, because it did for me.”

“Things don’t typically just ‘work out.’”

“Okay, fine. I shouldn’t have said that it will work out. Even though I have your family, I still feel sad that my parents aren’t around, and I feel alone sometimes, but then I remind myself that I’m never truly alone. I have parents, friends, and neighbors who care about me.”

Walker laughs.

“What?”

“Even your solutions to your problems are so easy. You let hardships just roll off your back. I mean, when was the last time you ever felt anxious over anything? Or had a stomach ache?”

“What does a stomach ache have to do with anything?”

“See? You don’t even know what I’m talking about.”

“Then explain it to me,” I challenge, not sure if he’ll actually do it.

A new expression crosses over his face like he’s weighing his words carefully. We’ve never had the type of relationship where we share deep things. We’ve never had any kind of relationship besides surface flirtation as we passed in the halls at school, but I can feel the conversation shifting.

He puffs out a quick breath. “My stomach ties up in knots every time I get together with my family. I feel anxious that I’m not going to fit in the way they want me to. Or that I’m just the disappointing misfit they all have to tolerate. I’m worried I won’t know what to say or that every exchange will be forced and awkward. I’m stressed that I won’t be able to leave when I want to. I literally stew over it for hours beforehand.”

I actually don’t understand what he’s talking about. I’ve never felt that way before, but hearing Walker talk about how hard it is just to be with his family makes me sad, and I instantly want to fix whatever is broken.

“Has it always been like this with them?” I keep my eyes on the ground, not wanting to scare him into silence.

“I don’t know. Everything changed when my dad died. I was just so angry at everyone, especially my mom, for moving us to Sunset Harbor. I let that anger suffocate every relationship I had. It’s my fault.”

I’ve spent years trying to get Capri to face her own struggles related to her dad’s passing and not repress her feelings. It’s weird now to be doing the same thing with Walker.

“You were really young when your dad got cancer. It would be difficult for anybody to watch a parent get sick and die. Plus, your grandpa died around that same time. It’s a lot and normal to have some trauma from that experience.”

“Or maybe it’s not trauma. Maybe this is just who I am. I push people away because I don’t need them. I have golf.”

“You don’t have golf.” My lips push into a frown. “Golf is a great hobby or career. You might get instant satisfaction from playing it or feel success, thrill, and excitement every time you step onto a course, but golf can’t give you all the things a meaningful relationship can. It can’t give you comfort, love, safety, laughter, friendship, worthwhile purpose. It’s just a game. It’s not meant to replace everything else in life that really makes us happy.”

I can’t tell if he hates everything I said or is letting it sink in and ruminate. But just in case he disagrees and hates it, I pile on more.

“Most people would agree that humans aren’t meant to be alone. We’re meant to be surrounded by family and friends.”

His silence is killing me, so I continue my Ted Talk.

“So maybe while you’re in town, you should try to spend more time with your family—rebuild the relationships you lost when your dad died.”

He lets out a heavy breath. “That sounds like a lot of work.”

“It probably is a lot of work, but the effort is worth it. And the more you come around, the more you’ll get used to them, and the less anxious you’ll feel. You’ll get to know everyone better, and that will make it easier to talk to them.”

He shrugs but doesn’t say anything.

“I mean, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I could get a permanent stomach ache.”

“Is being with them the only time you feel that way?”

“I wish.” He pushes out a humorless laugh. “I get date gut, friend gut, and the worst one of all…golf gut.”

“Golf gut.” I suppress a smile. “That sounds serious.”

His tone lightens. “It’s very serious. I spend a lot of time in the bathroom for that one. I have to budget that time in before every tournament.”

“It’s a whole different T time—toilet time.”

Walker buckles over with laughter. Making him laugh just became one of my proudest achievements. I’m out, folks. There’s nothing else I need to do with my life.

“For a second, I thought I was sharing too much information with you, but you took it to another level.”

“You’re welcome,” I say, still feeling proud.

“Listen, Pollyanna, I still don’t think you fully grasp the gravity of golf gut or family gut.”

I puff out a laugh. “Pollyanna?”

“Yeah, you’re like Pollyanna over there. Remember that old movie? Grandma Deedee would play it on repeat at our house after my dad died, like she was trying to send us subliminal messages about being happy amidst struggles just like Pollyanna was happy in her circumstances.”

“I do remember that. And actually, I think you just paid me a compliment. Pollyanna was a very optimistic person.”

“You’re the closest thing to Pollyanna I’ve seen in real life, which means you and I come from very different places, especially when it comes to family dynamics.”

“Maybe you should try being like me a little bit more. You know, telling yourself the glass is half full.”

“Nah, that’s not really my style.”

“Well, if you’re just tolerating my positivity, why are you even here?” We’re walking toward the north end of the island, nowhere near the canals where Walker is staying. “Shouldn’t you be headed in the opposite direction?”

“I’m not tolerating your positivity. I’m walking with you, making sure you get home safe. It’s the least I can do. I mean, you wore my jersey number to the game.”

I grab him by the shoulders and forcefully turn him around, pushing him in the opposite direction. FYI: his biceps are bigger than they look. “I don’t need a chaperone. You can head home to your own house. ”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to hang out?”

“Goodbye, Walker!” I wave behind me as I walk away.

“Goodbye, Pollyanna!”

For the love! Did he just give me a nickname?

He only used it two or three times. That doesn’t classify as a nickname. It can’t classify as a nickname or else another one of my favorite micro-tropes just got ruined by Walker Collins.

This man is killing me.