Summer Ever After: A Sweet Romantic Comedy

Chapter 29

Walker’s nameappears on my home screen, causing a heart arrhythmia inside my chest.

Why is he calling me?

We haven’t spoken since our kiss a few days ago. Isn’t he supposed to be playing golf in Detroit…like right now?

I stare at the phone, debating whether or not I should accept or decline his call. We’ve never talked on the phone before. What if he’s calling me in the middle of his golf tournament because there’s an emergency with Capri or Faye in Europe?

Fear mixed with curiosity gets the best of me, and I pick up.

“Hello?” I pace my bathroom while also trying to sound calm and casual. It’s a tough multitask, but I’m up for the job.

“Jane?”

It’s so good to hear his voice, to hear him say my name.

“Yeah?”

“Hi.”

My brows drop. “Why do you sound surprised that it’s me? You’re the one who called.”

“I’m just surprised that you actually answered, that’s all.”

“I only did because I thought there might be an emergency or something.”

“No emergency.”

“Then…why are you calling? Aren’t you in the middle of a tournament right now?”

“Yeah, I kind of am.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re calling from the seventh hole or something.”

He laughs, making my heart skip even more beats. “No, I’m done for the day. I just…” Everything pauses—his words, my breathing. The conversation dangles in silence until he finally says, “I made the cut. I’m going to play in round three tomorrow. Actually, I didn’t just make the cut. I finished the first two days in the top ten.”

I slowly drop, sitting on the edge of my bathtub. A mixture of feelings burst through me. I’m happy and proud of Walker. I’m confused but also flattered that he called to share his good news with me. But there’s also a dark side to my feelings, a disappointment. If Walker plays well, there’s no reason for him to hang around Sunset Harbor anymore. He’ll leave and go back to his old life, leaving me with all these feelings.

None of that should be a shock. I always knew it would end that way.

My chest lifts as I put on a brave face. “That’s awesome. You’ve been working so hard. I’m sure you’ll finish off the tournament really strong.”

“I hope so.” He goes quiet, leaving me to fill in the gaps in our conversation.

“It’s really exciting. You should be proud.”

“Golf is the loneliest sport, they say. I don’t know. I just…” His voice goes almost sad-like, “I wanted to tell someone. I wanted to tell you.”

I bite my lip, trying to keep all my emotions and feelings under wraps. “I’m happy you called.”

“Are you? Because last time I wanted to talk to you, you left me standing alone in the parking lot, watching your taillights drive away.”

I comb my fingers through my hair, keeping them there, clutching a fistful of strands. “I was embarrassed. I mean, what do you say when you’re to blame for getting a guy punched in the face?”

“I think I got myself punched in the face. I shouldn’t have kissed you all spur of the moment like that.”

Like he shouldn’t have kissed me at all? Or just on the spur of the moment?

What does the answer even matter?

I drop my hand, letting my hair fall around my face. “Yeah, I definitely didn’t see it coming.”

“Tell you what,” his voice lightens, taking on a flirty quality, “I won’t kiss you again unless you ask me to.”

For real? I’m not even doing the whole trope thing anymore, but that’s the first place my mind went. I can’t not notice that he just used one of the greatest kiss lines of all time.

Stay focused, Jane. You’re stronger than a romance trope.

“I won’t ask you to kiss me again. So we’re good there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.”

“You’re not going to tell me again that I’m like a brother to you, are you? Because I’m not buying it. Nothing about how you kissed me back makes me believe you see me as a brother.”

Yeah, I guess the proof is in the pudding.

Or in how I passionately kissed him back.

I sit taller, fortifying myself for what I’m about to say. I’m glad I’m doing it over the phone. It would be a thousand times harder if I had to look into his handsome blue eyes for this conversation.

“I came home from the bar the other night and texted Capri. I told her about the kiss.”

“I know. She called me right after and ripped me a new one.”

Panic grips my chest. “What did she say?”

“I don’t know. Something about how I can’t be the reason holding you back from falling in love with someone else this summer. Basically, she wants me to leave you alone so you can have a chance with someone else.”

Walker Collins has held me back from falling in love my entire life. Ever since I was in seventh grade, I’ve only had eyes for him. When he moved away from Sunset Harbor, I thought I had put my feelings behind me for good. But the second I saw him, everything came rushing back.

And now that he’s here and I’ve tasted what it’s like to be with him, I’m afraid I’ll never find someone else who makes me feel the way he does.

“What did Capri say to you about the kiss?” he asks.

“That she knows you.”

“You think that would be a plus. I’m her brother, not some serial killer on the street.”

“That’s the problem, Walker. She knows you.”

“Ouch.”

“I’m not trying to be mean. But we both know our goals are different. I want to fall in love and raise a family. And you want to focus on your golf career.”

“You make me sound shallow.”

“Having a goal and working hard to achieve it isn’t shallow. It’s just different than my goals, and Capri knows that.”

“So if I were ready to settle down, I’d have Capri’s blessing?”

“Are you ready to settle down?” I hold very still, waiting for his answer, until I decide asking that question was a bad idea. Why put Walker on the spot like that? “Never mind. That doesn’t even matter. At the end of the day, you and I are different, and Capri knows that. I promised her that nothing would happen between us, so that’s the end of it.”

“Pretend like I’m not Capri’s brother?—”

“You are.”

“Just pretend like I’m not. Would you have any hesitations about me then?”

My forehead drops into my hand. “You don’t live in Sunset Harbor, Walker.”

“And you’re never leaving that island?”

“I’m never leaving, so why complicate an already complicated situation?”

“Because I like you, Jane, and I can’t stop thinking about you no matter how hard I try.”

My back presses against the wall, and I slowly sink to the ground, hugging my knees to my chest. “I like you too.” My eyes fill with tears. I’ve always liked you.

He laughs, and I hear the smile in his voice. “Then let’s just relax a little, okay? It’s not like we’re planning on getting married. We just like hanging out. I’m sure if we explained that to Capri, she’d be cool with it.”

Therein lies the problem. I can’t just hang out with Walker. Capri knows me better than anyone else and knows I’d always want more. Her reservations are valid. She’d have to pick up the pieces when Walker leaves.

“I just don’t think something like this is worth going against Capri’s wishes. Especially when we both know it can’t go anywhere.”

“I don’t like that answer.”

I don’t either.

“It is what it is.” I know that statement is a copout and doesn’t solve anything, but it’s all I have. I swipe an unwanted tear from my cheek and stand, infusing my voice with all sorts of peppiness I don’t feel. “So we’re good. Let’s just forget about everything and keep being friends.”

“Friends?”

“Yeah, just like we’ve always been. Nothing hurt.” Especially me.

“Just friends.”

I can’t tell if his voice is irritated or hurt or just unaffected.

But I’m the one who needs to be unaffected. “Perfect. I’ll tell Capri she can call off the dogs.”

We’ve defined the relationship and blown up my heart. There’s nothing more to say or do. It’s time to end the conversation and move on.

“Listen, I need to get going, but I’m glad you called and that you’re doing well at your tournament. We’ll all be cheering you on.”

“Do you have a hot date or something you need to get to?”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” I step in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at my reflection. “I’m going on a date with Noah Belacourt. We’re headed out on his yacht.”

“What’s the trope angle on this one? Billionaire romance?”

“No trope angle. I think I’ve learned my lesson the hard way with that. I’m playing this date straight up and just being myself.”

“You never needed the tropes. Yourself is good enough.”

His words are a double-edged sword.

“I guess we’ll find out.” I bite my lip. “Good luck at your tournament.”

“Thanks.”

I end the call and stand in the middle of my bathroom, feeling numb.

Being in love is brutal.