love to go walk,” she says loudly, but Jason is too busy screaming with triumph as he and Ally score a helicopter and blast through the CG landscape.
“C’mon.” I grab an extra hoodie on my way out, and, sure enough, Maren shivers the second we step onto the sand and feel the first whip of ocean breeze. I hold it out to her wordlessly.
“What’s that?” she asks, staring like she’s never seen outerwear before in her life.
“That is a hoodie, which I guessed you’d need because that Angels shirt, besides hurting my soul, is not going to keep you warm.” I press it closer to her. “The Angels find so many ways to suck, don’t they?”
She yanks the jacket away and inspects it. “I was afraid for a second it might be a Dodgers jacket, in which case, I’d have to freeze to death, because I’d never let it touch my body.” She slides her arms in the over-long sleeves and flips the hood up over her tousled hair, grinning at me. “Thank you.”
“For not grabbing the awesome blue hoodie that was right next to that one?” I ask.
She’s still smiling, but it looks like it might slide off her face at any second. “Thank you for thinking to grab me a jacket. That was sweet.” When I shrug, she pokes me with her elbow. “I guess you’re pretty nice. For a Dodgers fan, of course.”
We walk along the wave line, jumping to the side to avoid getting too soaked.
She presses her hands deep into the jacket pockets and says, “So, about Jason—”
“Hey,” I interrupt. “Let’s not talk about Jason right now, okay?”
“That bad, huh?” She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry—”
I’m not usually a big interrupter, but I have to cut her off here. “Don’t.”
“What?” I can’t see the exact color of her eyes in the near darkness, but I can tell they’re wild and desperate.
“Don’t ever feel like you have to apologize for Jason. You’re not him, you’re not his keeper. If I’m pissed that he’s acting like an asshole, that has zero to do with you.” I let my feet sink into the damp, receding sand as a fresh wave gets ready to break in.
I wonder if she’s going to argue on his behalf, maybe say something about them being a couple or whatever, but she doesn’t. “I didn’t realize you had a sister who was a lawyer,” she says instead.
It’s way out of left field, but it’s not talking about Jason
Though, speaking of assholes…
“Yeah. Lydia. What made you think of her?” I ask, trying to see her face around the hood.
She pushes the cloth back, and I think her face might be even more gorgeous in the moonlight, if that’s possible. “You told me your dad said I remind him of Lydia.”
I groan. Awful comparison. “You are nothing like my sister,” I say. You are nothing like any sister of mine, thank God, I think, Because otherwise, all the dirty things I’ve been thinking about you tonight would be pretty damn horrible. “My dad just meant that you’re super smart and driven.”
Maren snorts. “Hardly. Funny thing is, actually, Lydia sounds a lot like my sister, Rowan. Super smart, super driven. She has a masters in business already, top of her class. She runs my mother’s bakery.”
“I had no idea your mom had a bakery.” I try to think if Maren ever mentioned her mother before, but I don’t remember it if she did. “Lydia’s a lawyer, and my parent’s kind of act like she walks on water.”
Her smile is very real this time, and very proud, in a way. “Can you blame them? You guys are all so amazing. You especially. Your parents must be so damn proud of you.”
I shrug, pretty much loving hearing Maren’s high opinion of me from her own mouth. “I don’t keep them up at night, you know. But it was more like they expected me to do what I’m doing. They just want me to live and die for the business. They wanted that for my brother, Enzo, too, but he basically told them it was never happening and took off.”
“They’re lucky they have you.”
“C’mon.” I grab an extra hoodie on my way out, and, sure enough, Maren shivers the second we step onto the sand and feel the first whip of ocean breeze. I hold it out to her wordlessly.
“What’s that?” she asks, staring like she’s never seen outerwear before in her life.
“That is a hoodie, which I guessed you’d need because that Angels shirt, besides hurting my soul, is not going to keep you warm.” I press it closer to her. “The Angels find so many ways to suck, don’t they?”
She yanks the jacket away and inspects it. “I was afraid for a second it might be a Dodgers jacket, in which case, I’d have to freeze to death, because I’d never let it touch my body.” She slides her arms in the over-long sleeves and flips the hood up over her tousled hair, grinning at me. “Thank you.”
“For not grabbing the awesome blue hoodie that was right next to that one?” I ask.
She’s still smiling, but it looks like it might slide off her face at any second. “Thank you for thinking to grab me a jacket. That was sweet.” When I shrug, she pokes me with her elbow. “I guess you’re pretty nice. For a Dodgers fan, of course.”
We walk along the wave line, jumping to the side to avoid getting too soaked.
She presses her hands deep into the jacket pockets and says, “So, about Jason—”
“Hey,” I interrupt. “Let’s not talk about Jason right now, okay?”
“That bad, huh?” She shakes her head. “I’m so sorry—”
I’m not usually a big interrupter, but I have to cut her off here. “Don’t.”
“What?” I can’t see the exact color of her eyes in the near darkness, but I can tell they’re wild and desperate.
“Don’t ever feel like you have to apologize for Jason. You’re not him, you’re not his keeper. If I’m pissed that he’s acting like an asshole, that has zero to do with you.” I let my feet sink into the damp, receding sand as a fresh wave gets ready to break in.
I wonder if she’s going to argue on his behalf, maybe say something about them being a couple or whatever, but she doesn’t. “I didn’t realize you had a sister who was a lawyer,” she says instead.
It’s way out of left field, but it’s not talking about Jason
Though, speaking of assholes…
“Yeah. Lydia. What made you think of her?” I ask, trying to see her face around the hood.
She pushes the cloth back, and I think her face might be even more gorgeous in the moonlight, if that’s possible. “You told me your dad said I remind him of Lydia.”
I groan. Awful comparison. “You are nothing like my sister,” I say. You are nothing like any sister of mine, thank God, I think, Because otherwise, all the dirty things I’ve been thinking about you tonight would be pretty damn horrible. “My dad just meant that you’re super smart and driven.”
Maren snorts. “Hardly. Funny thing is, actually, Lydia sounds a lot like my sister, Rowan. Super smart, super driven. She has a masters in business already, top of her class. She runs my mother’s bakery.”
“I had no idea your mom had a bakery.” I try to think if Maren ever mentioned her mother before, but I don’t remember it if she did. “Lydia’s a lawyer, and my parent’s kind of act like she walks on water.”
Her smile is very real this time, and very proud, in a way. “Can you blame them? You guys are all so amazing. You especially. Your parents must be so damn proud of you.”
I shrug, pretty much loving hearing Maren’s high opinion of me from her own mouth. “I don’t keep them up at night, you know. But it was more like they expected me to do what I’m doing. They just want me to live and die for the business. They wanted that for my brother, Enzo, too, but he basically told them it was never happening and took off.”
“They’re lucky they have you.”
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