Page 36 of Baby, It’s You (Clairesville #1)

Olive

T he ride home from Onilley Lake is peaceful and relaxing.

Hunter and I fall into an easy conversation, joking and comparing interests.

I find out he hates mayo and loves the movie Pride and Prejudice , which I can’t get over.

He explains how he used to watch it with his mother when he was little and ended up loving it; it became his comfort movie.

I chuckle to myself thinking about Hunter in all his masculine glory, sitting alone in his room, watching Mr. Darcy confess his love to Elizabeth.

By the time he drops me at my house, I feel like I have learned so much about him today.

It’s not until I get inside that I realize, I never asked him what his part of the deal we made was.

I wonder what would scare him—he seems so confident and sure of his actions.

He may be more reserved than his friends, but I like that about him.

He doesn’t try to put on a persona or peacock around in front of other people. He just is who he is.

I send him a quick text.

Okay, you cheated. What were you supposed to do today that scared you? I never found out.

I hop in the shower while I wait for his response, wincing at how burnt my skin is.

Hunter brought me some sunscreen but by the time we got back on land, it was too late—the damage was done to my cherry red back.

It’s my own fault for not being prepared, knowing my fair skin can't handle the sun for more than an hour without burning to a crisp.

I replay every moment of the day in my head, smiling every time I think about the group’s playful banter and how welcoming everyone was. I don’t usually hang out with anyone but Ivy. I’m always with her or working so it was nice to meet some new girls today.

Leena and Alice were like yin and yang—Leena bright and cheery, while Alice rarely showed emotion.

Ysabel even asked for my phone number before I left, which made me excited.

She works for a local interior designer and told me she spends most of her time going from stores to galleries looking for clients and would love some company.

I quickly agreed; any excuse to go shopping without having to spend my money sounds great to me.

By the time I finally exit the shower and wrap a towel around my body, I realize it’s been over thirty minutes, and I have two texts sitting on my phone from Hunter.

I’m trying to convince myself that it doesn’t scare the crap out of me that I might never know what it feels like to kiss your lips.

I gasp. Then I read the other message, sent just a few minutes ago.

I scared you. Forget I said any of that, please. I will see you on Monday to film.

I walk over to my bed and sit on the edge of it in my towel.

I keep reading over his first message again.

I can’t even lie to myself and say I’m not tempted to know what his lips taste like.

What I feel for him is lust, though, nothing else, and it’s not worth it to sleep with him and ruin the friendship we have formed.

At least, that’s the story I’m sticking with; if I tell myself that enough, maybe I will believe it.

I text him back thanking him for today and saying that I will see him Monday, completely ignoring his other text.

I don’t need anything else to worry about right now and I need to prioritize visiting Jane.

Knowing I most likely have only a few months left with her causes my throat to constrict.

I promise myself that I’m going to see her tomorrow morning before work and then get ready for bed.