Summer Rush (16 page)

“Mmm, from the diner?” I ask with big eyes, and a giddy voice. Going out for breakfast is a rare event, even though it’s my favorite meal of the day.

“Well, how can I say no to that smile?” he laughs. “The diner it is!”

After saying goodbye to my parents and wishing them luck at their appointments, we head out to Joey’s car. We drive to the diner with the top down, enjoying the beautiful summer morning. Although I’ve been brought up with just the basics and hand-me-downs,
which never bothered me in the slightest
, sitting in a fancy car with the top down and driving down the Carolina stretch is quite fun.

Even though it is nine in the morning on a Monday, the diner is surprisingly packed. I assumed everyone would be at work, but I guess during tourist season there really isn’t a down time. After waiting a few minutes, we are escorted to a small table in the back of the restaurant. The diner has been around for years and I’ve been coming here since I was a little girl. When my grandparents were alive, they used to bring me here every Sunday morning to get me out of the house. Pushing my menu aside, I already know what I’m ordering, a number 10–scrambled eggs, bacon, and a toasted bagel with cream cheese.

“Aren’t you going to look at the menu?” Joey asks with his eyebrows scrunched together.

“Nope, I already know what I want,” I respond with a huge childlike grin.

“Come here much?” he jokes.

“Not in a really long time, but the menu hasn’t changed in twenty years.”

“Okay then,” he smiles, looking back down to his menu.

“Hope?” I hear a familiar voice say next to me.

Looking up at the tall, rigid, good looking man next to me, my heart stops and my breathing goes erratic,

“Trent. Hi. How are you?” I manage to say through the massive knots forming in my throat.

“Good…I’m doing good, thanks,” he says, his lips slightly curled in a grin.

He glances over at Joey then back to me, waiting to be introduced.

“Oh uh, Trent this is um…” I start but pause, trying to decide how I reference Joey. Is he my boyfriend? Are we just friends with benefits? Is he just my summer fling?

Joey’s smile fades into disappointment and his eyes fill with pain, seeing my obvious dilemma; with that I clue in to how he perceives me–his girlfriend. Shooting him a smile, I continue.

“Trent, this is my boyfriend, Joey. Joey, this is Trent,” I say with a forced smile. Although I’m proud to call Joey my boyfriend, this is definitely one of those awkward situations that you just can’t prepare yourself for.

Shaking hands, Trent nods his head as Joey says, “Nice to meet you.”

Trent turns back to me. “Well…I better get to work. It was nice seeing you, Hope,” Trent says with a smile, then turns his head to Joey and gives him a skeptical grin, but doesn’t say anything else before walking away.

“Something tells me that was the ex,” Joey jokes once Trent is out of hearing distance.

“That obvious?” I ask, scrunching my forehead with a weary look.

“Well if the death grip he gave me wasn’t my first indication, it was the sweet smile he gave me before he walked away. I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be best buds anytime soon.”

“Sorry.” Because, honestly, the situation is my fault. Trent didn’t do anything to deserve my loss of feelings for him, and Joey didn’t break us up. It’s not his fault I had feelings for him while having a boyfriend.
God, that sounds awful!

“Eh, I’m used to being the bad guy.” He winks.

Thankfully, our waitress finally comes over to take our orders, changing the topic. Talking about ex-boyfriends with current boyfriends is not something that’s top on my list of fun conversations.

“So, boyfriend, huh?” Joey asks with a sexy grin.

Feeling my internal temperature rising and my cheeks getting flush, my stomach knots up hoping that I read that situation correct–hoping that’s what we are and that’s what he was expecting me to say. I honestly could never do the friends with benefits thing–that’s just too dirty for me and the idea of a summer fling makes my heart ache. However, it could be true. He doesn’t live in North Carolina, he lives in New York.

This is a summer fling!
I suddenly feel like I’m going to be sick.

“Babe…” He reaches over the table for my hands. “I’m just joking. I got frickin butterflies when you called me your boyfriend. I’m on cloud nine right now.” He laughs at his confession.

“But, you’re leaving,” I sadly say, trying to swallow away the lump forming in my throat.

“What are you talking about?”

“To New York. That’s where you live.”

“Um, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. There’s no way I can go back to that life.”

“You’re moving here?” I ask in shock.

Rubbing his thumbs over my hands, and giving me a smile that melts me to my core, he tries to reassure me. “There’s too many negative influences back home. I don’t want to take the chance of falling back into my old ways. I’ve gotta good thing going here,” he says, his sparkling eyes full of emotion, and admiration.

“And your parents–they’re okay with this?” I ask.

“Are ‘ya kidding me? They’re ecstatic. It was their idea.”

The waitress interrupts our conversation, delivering our food. However, before even taking a glance at my plate I ask in a surprised tone, “This was their idea?”

“Last summer, after everything went down, I didn’t really leave the house. I went from being a drunk social butterfly, to a hermit. The only time I left the house was to do my community service, and that was it.”

He had to do community service?

“At the end of the summer when I finished my hours and went home, it didn’t get much better. My friends wouldn’t stop calling and my old life was right at my fingertips. I stayed sober and I didn’t fall off the bandwagon, but it was hard as hell. My parents saw what I was going through, not to mention you came up in conversation periodically.” He winks before continuing. “So, they brought up the idea of me moving into our beach house; to get away from everything, but still have family down here to be around. I was so depressed at home that I agreed immediately. So, here I am.” He takes a bite of his omelet with a cute smile.

I can’t help but do cartwheels inside that he’s here and
won’t
be leaving. We can actually try this out. We can actually be a couple. I’m thrilled that I can finally breathe clearer...and happily.

“And, I’m so glad you are,” I genuinely confess.

“Me too.”

“So, I’ll see you in a few hours then?” Joey asks, putting the car in park.

“Yup.” I lean over and peck his lips. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“My pleasure,” he responds as I open my door. “Hey!” Grabbing my hand, he brings me back down into my seat, pulling me in for another kiss. “Do you really need to take this test today? Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” he begs, giving me a pouty look with puppy eyes.

My body instantly melts into a big pile of mush. I so badly want to give in and spend every second of today with him like we had planned, but I completely forgot that I have to do a quiz online for one of my summer classes and it has to be submitted by five o’clock today.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I
really
don’t want to, though.”

Pecking my lips, he says “Okay,” then pecks my lips again. “Just one more,” he jokes before kissing me a third time. Although, I could sit here and kiss him all day, I know I have to go if I’m going to pass this class.

“You’re killing me here,” I say after the fourth kiss. He smiles against my lips.

“Have you changed your mind yet?”

“Trust me, if it were up to me we wouldn’t be having this discussion,
but
I need to pass this class.”

Exhaling with disappointment and defeat, he kisses me one last time before letting me go.

“You’ve got three hours, woman,” he jokes, tapping his watch.

Saluting him in agreement, I get out of the car and rush into my house. I want to get this quiz over with so I can get back to our day of fun.

While I’m going over my notes and doing a quick study session before I start my quiz, I hear a knock on the door. I glance up at the clock; its only been a little over an hour since Joey left.
He can’t be back already?

“Coming!” I yell, placing my notes and laptop on the coffee table.

Turning the corner, Trent is standing on the other side of the screen door. My stomach drops to the floor, wondering what he is doing here.

“Can I come in?” he asks, expressionless.

“Yeah, of course,” I answer, opening the door. “Do you want a drink or anything?”

“No thanks, I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Um okay,” I respond nervously. “Do you wanna go sit in the living room then?”

“Sure.”

He sits down on the couch and I choose the seat across from him on the recliner. Anxious to hear what he has to say, I ask, “So, what’s up?”

“Is your mom here?” he asks. He sounds like he is stalling.

“No, she and my dad have some doctor’s appointments today. They won’t be home until later.”

“Oh, is everything okay?”

Seriously? Cut to the chase!

I smile. “Yup, just check-ups.”

“Okay, I’m just going to cut to the chase on why I’m here.”

Thank you!

“Do you know who Joey is?”

Wait, what?

“Um, what’s that supposed to mean? Of course I know who is,” I answer with a confused look.

“And you’re okay with that?” Trent asks, looking shocked.

“With what?” Why do I always feel like I’m missing something?

“He’s the guy that smashed into the credit union last summer,” he says like it’s common knowledge.

Still looking at him like he has ten heads, he pulls a newspaper from his back pocket and hands it to me. Looking down at the front page, there is a picture of the credit union, the front window smashed in with a BMW in front of it. A mug shot of Joey is right next to it.

Oh my god!
I cover my open mouth with my hand. Although I don’t have time to watch the news, I remember my mom telling me about this story. I didn’t see the damages to the building because it’s at an intersection that I avoid–the intersection my parents were almost killed at. Everyone was talking about it, though. The town was in an uproar because the driver,
Joey
, was way over the legal limit for drinking while driving and basically got off with a slap on the wrist because his grandfather is the district attorney.

Dropping the article onto my lap, I cover my face with my hands and weep, unable to hold back the tears that have been welling in my eyes.

How did I not know this? How can I date someone so ignorant? Someone who could endanger so many lives by getting behind the wheel drunk?

Rushing to my side and sitting on the arm of the chair, Trent wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into his side for comfort.

“I’m sorry, Angel. I just knew there was no way you could be dating someone that has done something like this...with your mom, well I had to tell you,” Trent confesses, rocking, and soothing me like a baby.

“Thank you,” I whisper in between sobs. “I had no clue.”