Chapter 13
thirteen
. . .
RORY
“You look like hell,” Charlie announces right before he snaps me in the side, using his goggle strap as a sling shot.
“Jesus, Charlie.” I flick him on the ear. I know he hates it so it’s the only thing that I can do to get back at him.
We’ve just cleared the pool after practice and are headed to the locker room for showers.
“Late night?” Logan wiggles his eyebrows playfully.
It wasn’t that late, but I spent another shitty night on the floor of Summer’s van. I told myself it was for peace of mind. Either sleep in my bed worrying about her or stay close and know she’s okay.
While Summer snored softly from the loft, I replayed the moment I almost kissed her.
Repeatedly.
It only added to my sleepless night.
I lean against my locker and take a deep breath. I could probably fall asleep right here, but then I’d miss my meeting with Vivi to create content for two of my sponsors, and the podcast appearance I have scheduled after that, then my appointment with Dr. Carpenter, the sports psychologist I’ve been working with after my injury.
“What’s going on with you?” Eli asks, dropping on the bench next to me while the other guys hit the showers. “Is this about your parents?”
Eli’s mention of them reminds me I haven’t responded to my parents’ request for dinner on Sunday night at the club. My mom didn’t come out and say it but I know Daphne will be there.
My parents are hoping to get us back together. I don’t know how to make it any clearer that I don’t want to get back together with Daphne, and I need to focus on swimming. I don’t have the emotional energy for any of it, so I’ve ignored it and hoped it would fade into the background, but it hasn’t.
“I spent the night with Summer.”
Eli’s brows shoot up.
“On the floor of her camper van.”
“Ouch.” He chuckles quietly. “Nice to know the Rory Shields charm can be resisted.”
“It’s not like that with Summer.”
“No?” he asks, surprised.
“I’m attracted to her.” Wildly attracted to her , my brain corrects. “But there’s more.”
Eli shakes his head. “What happened to avoiding distractions?”
“That’s the thing. I think I’m more distracted when she’s not around. Like I need to know she’s safe and everything is good with her so I can focus. And she’s got the sweetest pug named Edgar.”
“Edgar? As in Edgar Allen Pug?” Eli asks, cracking a smile. “There’s a pug that has his own social media account.”
“Pretty sure it’s just Edgar.” I make a note to ask Summer when I see her later. Unlike yesterday morning, she didn’t tell me to leave her alone. I think it’s a sign we’re becoming friends.
Eli nods. “So, what are you going to do about Summer? You can’t spend every night on the floor of her van and expect your body to be in its best form.”
“I know. I have to figure something else out.”
A few minutes later, I let the shower’s hot spray melt away the tension in my muscles.
I don’t know what I want from Summer. With my training and travel schedule, I can’t make a commitment, but I know I can’t stay away.
Later when I knock on her van door, Summer opens it with resigned reluctance. She’s not surprised to see me but she’s also not as irritated as I thought she might be.
Maybe I’m growing on her.
Last night, I discovered that she loathes my favorite cheat day snack cakes, but I also discovered things that she does like so I picked them up at a local gift shop on my way over.
When she motions for me to enter, I hand her the reusable shopping bag.
“What’s this?” she asks, peeking inside.
“Some herbal peach tea since I know you like tea before bed. A pack of fairy lights to give you some mood lighting but also to make it easier to see at night if you need to get up. And a mini first aid kit. Since you won’t let me be your bodyguard, I’ll at least be your medical supplier. Oh, and some gourmet pickles.” I pull out the jar. “Marisella at the gift shop said these are the best.”
“This is?—”
“A peace offering,” I interject before she tells me she can’t accept it. “You’ve made it clear you don’t want me intruding in your life, and if you want me to leave, I will.”
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling, because I know what I’m about to say makes no sense.
“I know this sounds crazy, but ever since I met you, I can’t stop wanting to be around you. Now that I know you exist, I can’t just pretend you don’t. I’m not trying to push you into anything, because I can’t make any kind of commitment either. But I like being near you, and if you let me be here for you, I think you might like it, too.”
Summer swallows hard and forces a smirk. “You sound ridiculous, you know that?” But her voice lacks its usual sharpness.
I offer her a grin. “Yeah. I know.”
She turns to set the bag on the counter and pulls out the jar of pickles. A failed attempt to open it with her injured wrist has her holding the jar out to me.
“How’s your wrist?” I ask, opening the jar easily before handing it back to her.
“Still sore, but getting better each day.” She takes a pickle from the jar and bites into it, making a show of narrowing her eyes in scrutiny while she chews. Then, she swallows and a small smile pulls at her lips. “Okay, you can stay.”
She makes two mugs of peach tea, then puts some pickles on a plate and sets them on the small counter by the bench that serves as a desk and dining table.
“They’ll be even better when they’re cold.”
“So why the pickle obsession?” I ask.
“The crunch. The sour tang of the brine.” She eyes me. “What is it you love about Little Sunshine Cakes?”
“Where should I start?” I hold up the pickle she offered me and pretend it’s a choco roll. “Perfect ratio of cake to filling. The chocolate’s not too sweet, but still satisfies my sweet tooth. And it’s a hit of nostalgia. They’re something I enjoyed as a kid, and still holds up as an adult.
“They were a novelty that my parents would only buy if I did well at a swim meet.” I laugh, recalling a memory. “I used to pick the chocolate coating off the sides and eat it first. It helped make them last longer.”
Summer takes a long sip of her tea, while I bite into the spicy dill pickle.
“I preferred the old logo. The one with the smiling girl in pigtails.” Summer’s face is a hard blank. “You know what I’m talking about? Before they changed it to the sun a few years ago?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
She doesn’t respond, so I let it go.
We drink peach tea and eat spicy dill pickles. It’s weird. The two things don’t go together at all but Summer is enjoying herself and I’m just happy to be here.
When we’re done with our snack, Summer clears the dishes and rinses them in the sink.
“You can’t sleep on the floor again,” she announces.
I sigh. “It’s late. I don’t want to fight about it. Just one more night. That will give me time to get the security cameras installed.”
Her head swivels in my direction, her mouth gaping open in outrage. “You can’t do that without telling me first.”
“I am telling you. That’s literally what this is.”
“I’m already rethinking this whole thing,” she says before disappearing into the tiny bathroom.
“It’s too late, Wildflower,” I call, standing to roll my tight shoulders back. “We consummated our friendship over tea and pickles. There’s no turning back now.”
While she’s getting ready, I do some stretching. A few lunges in hopes that my muscles won’t tighten too much while I’m sleeping on the hard floor again. Then, I brush my teeth at the sink with the travel toothbrush I tucked in my pocket earlier, before I start arranging the blankets on the floor.
Edgar is already in his bed, noisily snoring. I move my head close to his in hopes of understanding how such a tiny dog makes so much noise.
“I said you can’t sleep on the floor,” Summer says from behind me, where she just exited the bathroom.
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” I ask, looking around while also contemplating if lounging in the driver’s seat would be more comfortable than the floor.
Summer crosses her arms and presses her lips together, her eyes looking up at the loft bed.
Oh.
“With you ?” I ask to clarify.
“Never mind,” she says, moving toward the ladder and climbing up. My surprised tone clearly has her rethinking the offer.
I scramble to pick up the blankets off the floor and follow her up the ladder, my back and shoulders relaxing at the sight of the comfortable sanctuary that is Summer’s loft bed. I’d laid here for a while the first night, rubbing her back while she cried, but ultimately decided to give her space once she fell asleep. I know how comfortable the mattress is and don’t want to deny my body the opportunity to get a good night’s sleep.
“I want to. If you’re okay with it?” I ask, hopeful.
“Fine,” she says, pulling up the sheet to get settled.
Getting into the loft is the tricky part, I have to climb the ladder to get up but at the same time bend down so I don’t hit my head.
Once I’m up, I carefully crawl into the space beside her.
After I’m situated, my entire body relaxes into the mattress. Sweet relief.
It’s quiet between us. I’m thinking Summer has already fallen asleep, until she whispers, “This is weird.”
“What’s weird?” I ask, shifting my body so I can hear her better.
“Us. This. I’ve known you for like four days and now you’re my bunk buddy?”
Those are her words, but she doesn’t hesitate moving her pillow over to make more room for me. It’s a snug space, but the comfort of the mattress, and my proximity to Summer, who smells fantastic, is all I need.
“Are these Egyptian cotton?” I ask, loving the feel of the soft cotton sheets on my skin.
“Threadbare.”
“Is that a brand?” I tease.
“No.”
Summer shifts and in the tight space, her hand brushes against my chest.
“Oh my god. Are you naked?!” she shrieks.
“I’m not naked. I just took my shirt off.”
“That’s naked.”
“Not to me. I live most of my life shirtless.” I stretch my arms over my head before resting my hands over my chest. “I don’t mind if you’re shirtless.”
I can practically hear her roll her eyes. “Nice try.”
“What? There’s no harm in a friendly, shirtless sleepover. We are friends. You said so the other night.”
“I said I needed a friend. Not that you were that person.”
“Ouch.” I rub my chest, over my heart where feelings for Summer are quickly taking up residence.
She shakes her head. “Trust me. I’m saving you from a lot of emotional baggage that being my friend would involve.”
“Speaking of emotional baggage, shouldn’t friends know more about each other?” I ask.
“We’re not that type of friends. We’re more like acquaintances.”
I consider it for a moment. “How many types of friends are there?”
“Let’s see. Friends you call in an emergency.”
“I took you to the doctor,” I point out.
“Because you injured me.”
“Fair point. What other types?”
“Friends with benefits.” She clears her throat. “We’re definitely not that kind of friends.”
“No? I think there are a ton of benefits to being my friend.”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
Yeah, I do. While I’m disappointed we’re not friends with benefits, it’s also cool because I don’t think I could be Summer’s friend with benefits. I’d want more.
The thought surprises me.
What more do I want? Or have time for?
Hadn’t the end of my relationship with Daphne been because I needed space? I couldn’t put the energy into the relationship that she needed. Couldn’t take the next step she wanted; a proposal. But when I’m around Summer, she doesn’t drain me. It’s the exact opposite.
“Your ride-or-die friend,” she continues.
“Scarlett,” I say, reminding her she shared that bit of information. “She’s your ride-or-die?”
“Yeah.” She’s quiet a moment. “What about you?”
“Eli’s my best friend on the team. We’ve known each other for over a decade and are each other’s biggest supporters. He’s been keeping me sane and supported with my parents giving me so much pushback on my career decisions.”
“Your parents aren’t supporting your career?” Her tone reveals disbelief. “I would have thought they’d be super proud of you.”
“They are, or they have been. But they’ve always been one step ahead, thinking about the future. They know my career will eventually come to an end, so they want me to start preparing for that moment. They want me to settle down.”
“Settle down how? They want you to stop swimming?”
“They’re pressuring me to get back with Daphne.”
“Really?” Summer rolls toward me, tucking her hand under her pillow for support.
“They’ve been pushing me to give it another go with my ex because her dad and mine are in business together. For them, it would be nice and easy if we got married and kept the business in the family.”
“Why’d you two break up?” she asks.
“I was injured and needed time to think about my next steps in my career. It wasn’t fair to her to put her life on hold when I didn’t know what I wanted. She wanted to get married, but I wasn’t ready.” I take a breath, and decide to be completely honest. “And I knew we weren’t right together. That I was staying with her because of our parents’ desires. I felt guilty about it for a while but I know I did the right thing by ending it with her.”
“I can relate.”
“You can?” I don’t know anything about Summer’s family or past experiences. She’s a woman living out of a camper van who is determined to only rely on herself. So, it makes sense that there might have been something or someone in her life that made her feel like she needed to be on her own.
She nods, but doesn’t elaborate. It’s late and I don’t want to push her. The fact that she let me stay the night is a huge step on its own.
If Summer can relate to my predicament, then maybe she’d be willing to help. In my head, a plan starts to take form.
“You know what would help me out?” I ask.
“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
My lips twitch at her snarky tone, but I proceed anyway.
“If you came to my family dinner with me tomorrow night.”
“As your human shield?” Her laugh is easy and light.
“As my date.”
“To show your parents you’ve moved on?”
“Yeah, but also because I’m ninety-percent sure they’ve invited my ex to dinner.”
“I could probably take this chick. Does she work out?”
“I don’t need you to get into a fight, although that would be hot to see you fighting for me.”
She waves her wrist. “You’re right. I can’t afford any more injuries.”
“So will you come to dinner?” I prod.
She’s quiet a moment, contemplating, and just when I think she might do it, she shakes her head. “Can’t. I have to work.”
“Sure. I get it.”
My response comes quickly. I’m used to smiling my way through whatever expectations people throw at me. Easygoing and flexible.
If I don’t hold my own against my parents, I’ll end up married to Daphne out of guilt.
“Goodnight, Flipper,” she says on a sigh. Under the dim glow of the fairy lights we hung earlier, I watch her eyelids softly close.
“Goodnight, Wildflower.”
A stubborn weight settles in my chest, and I try to shake it loose.
I can’t be mad that Summer said no. She doesn’t owe me anything. I’m the one pushing for this friendship.
But just once, it would be nice if someone showed up for me.