The Boyfriend Project (2 page)

“Those girls.” I bit on my lower lip. “It's stupid, but it bothers me that they aren't talking to Jeremy. Like maybe they don't think they could be into him.” I shook my head. “See, that is so shallow and stupid. I don't want to be jealous, but I wouldn't mind if girls were jealous of me.” Because if they were, then I'd know that they knew I had a terrific guy. I didn't know why I needed that validation.

“I was,” Avery said quickly. “Jealous of you. Before I had Fletcher. I know that's awful because you're my best friend, but for a long time I wished that Jeremy had wanted to be my boyfriend instead of yours. I mean, the three of us hung out together. What was wrong with me that he didn't choose me?”

“Nothing was wrong with you,” I reassured her. Then I added, “But I didn't know you wanted him for a boyfriend.”

“Now I can see that we wouldn't have been right
together, but I would have said yes in a heartbeat if he'd asked me out. He's so nice.”

He was nice. But was he too nice?

The guys returned to the table. Avery dropped that bag of sugar. I snatched it up and placed it back into its holder, noticed a yellow packet mixed in with the blue ones, plucked it out, and inserted it in its proper place. Then I smiled at Jeremy—a little guiltily because we'd been talking about him—as he set a cheeseburger and shake in front of me, and a basket of fries between us.

“Thanks.” He knew exactly how I liked my burger and he didn't mind ordering it medium well, with a slice of cheese on top and a slice on the bottom, pickle, and tomato that wasn't from the ends. Mustard on the bottom of the bun, mayo on the top, and the B. S. special sauce on top of the mayo. My mom always made me order my own burger. She was embarrassed that I couldn't just order a burger by calling out a number or saying
all the way
. But I was particular. What was wrong with that? I knew what I wanted.

Avery and Fletcher had cheeseburgers, too, but they were sharing a basket of onion rings. I carefully unwrapped my burger, peered beneath the top bun to see everything exactly as I liked it, and bit into it.

“So . . .” Avery said as she dipped an onion ring into ketchup. “You know Dot, the owner of the Shrimp Hut?”

The Shrimp Hut was the restaurant on the beach
where Avery worked on the weekends. “Yeah,” I said.

“Her mom is having some surgery so she's going to be out of town for a few days next week and she asked me to house-sit, take care of her cat and dogs. The cool thing is, her house is on the beach. It has three bedrooms, and she said I could have company. Interested in joining us?”

Us?
I looked at her, shifted my gaze to Fletcher, back to her. “The two of you?”

Grinning, she nodded.

“Your parents are okay with this?” I asked, stunned. Her dad was a cop who kept a pretty tight rein on things.

“I'm leaving for college in six weeks. They know they need to trust me. I'm officially curfew-less. They want me to let them know when I'll be home, but they know there is nothing I'm going to do right now that I won't do at college.” She shrugged. “They're letting me grow up.”

My mom hadn't given me a curfew in a while but I didn't know if she'd approve if she knew Jeremy was going to be there. I suppose I didn't have to tell her that he'd be there, although I'd felt so guilty about lying to her before that I'd confessed about our botched romantic night. Mom had just laughed and said, “Karma's a bitch.” Now Karma was giving us a second chance with a bedroom on the beach. I couldn't hide my excitement about that as I looked at Jeremy. “What do you think?”

“Up to you.”

He was always such a gentleman. Clearly he didn't want to push me into anything and would let it be my decision. Although I did wish I heard a little more enthusiasm in his voice. “Could be loads of fun. I just don't know if I can swing it with my mom.”

“There's nothing you could do there that you can't do just as easily out by the lake,” Fletcher pointed out.

I grimaced. “I don't exactly tell her we go to the lake. But you're right. I'll talk to her.”

“Great!” Avery said. “We'll have a blast. It'll probably be two or three nights. Dot's still working out the details. I'll let you know when I have them.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Beneath the table, I squeezed Jeremy's hand. We were getting an all-night-alone-in-a-bedroom-together do-over. This time I was determined we would round second base and head to third. I could hardly wait.

As I walked through the door, I dropped my keys into a small bowl on a nearby narrow table that hugged the wall. I headed for the kitchen, not surprised when I heard, “You're a little late.”

Stopping, I turned and faced my dad. No question whatsoever that we came from the same gene pool. Same blond hair, same boring brown eyes, same unimpressive height. “After the movie, we went to B.S. for a burger.”

“Wish you kids wouldn't call it that.”

My dad wished for a lot of things, mostly that he hadn't gotten my mom pregnant when they were eighteen. I'd heard numerous times about all the challenges they'd faced working, going to college part-time, taking care of me. Opportunities lost, dreams delayed.

“Sure that's all you did?” he asked in his best lawyerly
cross-examination voice.

“Movie and burger.” What happened in between was none of his business even though I knew he thought it was. I'd had the responsibility lecture so many times that it was practically part of my DNA now. I pointed toward the kitchen. “I'm going to grab a water.”

I tried to ignore the fact that my father was trailing behind me like a bloodhound on the scent of an escaped convict.

“This girl you're spending all your time with . . .”

Gritting my teeth, I grabbed a bottle of spring-fed water from the fridge, slammed the door closed, leaned against it, and unscrewed the cap. “Her name—again—is Kendall, and I'm not just
spending time
with her. She's my girlfriend.”

“You're too young to be this serious about someone. You need to be exploring possibilities.”

Strange advice coming from someone who had insisted I work at his law firm this summer, who had decided which universities I should apply to. “What possibilities? I love her. I'm happy with her. What more is there for me to look for?”

My dad glared. “I know you think I'm riding your ass for no good reason, but you're going to change. What you have now may not be what you want in a few years or even a few months.”

“Talking from experience?” I didn't know why my parents were still together. They did nothing except pick at each other. I shoved myself away from the refrigerator and headed for the doorway.

“Don't take that attitude with me,” he snapped.

I stopped only long enough to toss back at him, “Just because you're unhappy doesn't mean I am or will be. Kendall and I are perfect together. Get used to it.”

I'd taken three steps when my dad barked, “Get a haircut.”

I swung around to stare at him. “Seriously? That's how we're going to end this?”

“You're starting to look unkempt. Appearance is everything.”

Appearance of a happy home, marriage, career. “Whatever.”

Striding out, I suddenly wished that I owned that motorcycle Kendall had mentioned so I could go roaring away from here. But then again, that feeling was nothing new. I'd wanted to get out of here ever since I'd overheard my parents refer to me as the biggest mistake of their lives.

Lunch?

Jeremy's text came in as I was leaning against a tree waiting for Drifter to finish sniffing around in search of the perfect spot to do his business. The German shepherd was so fussy. His owner, Sandy Miller, was out of town for a few days so I walked and fed him while she was away. He was fine being by himself at night. And it gave me a little spending money.

I texted back:

Jo-Jo's?

Jeremy:

C U there.

Smiling, I slipped my phone back into my shorts pocket. Drifter had come over and was looking up at me, his tail wagging fiercely. He was always so pleased with his accomplishments. Removing a plastic bag from the other pocket of my shorts, I proceeded to clean up his mess, tossed it in a nearby trash can, and carried on
along the neighborhood trail.

Once I returned Drifter to his home, I headed off to meet Jeremy in my bright red Smart car.

He was already in a booth at Jo-Jo's Diner when I got there. Grinning, he slid off the bench and waited for me to join him. It was the manners thing his dad had drilled into him. When I got near, he kissed me on the cheek. Then we both settled into the booth.

We'd eaten at the family diner often enough that we didn't have to look at the menu. He ordered meat loaf and I went with fried chicken. While we were waiting, I reached across the table and held his hands. He was wearing a long-sleeved, buttoned, light-blue shirt and a dark blue tie. He'd loosened the tie. Made him look sexy, rebellious.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

He shrugged, smiled. “Missed you.”

Warmth swirled through me. Even after all these months, sometimes it was difficult to believe that he loved me. His family had way more money than mine, lived in a larger house. His dad was a lawyer for Pete's sake, which just sounded fancy. They'd taken us to a high-end restaurant for Jeremy's birthday. He'd had to wear a sport coat. He'd looked great, but the evening was so formal and uncomfortable. I'd worried that I would use the wrong utensil or make a mistake in etiquette that would have everyone raising eyebrows at me. My mom and I liked to
hang out at Cheez It Up, a pizza place with a rodent for a mascot and a carnival atmosphere. “How's work?”

“Same-o. Researching stuff.”

“TV shows make it look so exciting to be a lawyer,” I said. “What if you're bored because you really have no interest in the law?”

He looked out the window. “My dad would be disappointed. Sometimes I think he's trying to relive his life through me.” He shook his head. “Sorry, just got into it with him last night. Guess some of the remnants of our
discussion
are lingering.”

“Why didn't you say something when you texted good night?”

“I didn't want to bother you with it.”

“Jeremy! I'm your girlfriend. We're supposed to share stuff.”

“Not this.”

I was a little hurt that he would keep something from me, because I assumed we shared everything. I'd been with him long enough to know he and his dad seldom had
discussions
. They were often at odds, but he rarely talked about it. I was surprised that he'd agreed to work with his dad this summer.

“Did the argument have anything to do with our going to the beach with Avery?” I asked.

“No, I didn't even go there. I don't have to get his
permission. I'm eighteen.”

I stared at him, surprised but also impressed with his rebelliousness. He always got his parents' approval if we were doing something other than just hanging out. I wondered if Fletcher was rubbing off on him or if he was simply coming into his own.

The waitress came to our table. Jeremy and I unlocked hands and she set the food down.

“How's Drifter?” Jeremy asked, and I recognized that he wanted to move the discussion away from his dad. He'd met the dog when I cared for him before. See? The sharing thing.

“Doing good.” I waved my drumstick around. “You know, I've been thinking that we could bring in some extra money pet-sitting while at A&M. It's not like high school, where we're in class all day. Our schedules will be more flexible.”

“We?” he asked.

“Yeah, I figure we could do it together if you want. I even have a name for it. ‘Pawsitively Pampered.' Positively spelled
P-A-W-S
, etc.”

“You've given a lot of thought to it.”

I shrugged. “I'm going to need some spending money. Don't want to depend on my mom for everything.”

“Wish I didn't have to depend on my dad for anything.
I'll help you where I can, but I'm planning on getting a job that will give me more independence.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“I don't know. But I'm going to start browsing the Aggie website for an on-campus job.”

“I'll do that, too. It would be nice to have something firmed up before we got there. I can't believe it's only a few more weeks before we leave.” We'd managed to get rooms in the same coed dorm. While we weren't sharing a room, at least we wouldn't be that far away from each other.

“It can't come soon enough.”

“The beach vacation will be a nice break. Mom said I could go, so I'm all good.” The advantage to being a high school graduate about to head off to college was that when I asked my mom if it was okay for me to spend a couple of nights at the beach, house-sitting with Avery, she didn't bat an eye when she said yes. But she did toss out one of her usual truisms: “Just remember that all actions have consequences.”

I knew that she was referring to any actions with Jeremy, that she was aware he'd probably be there.

“It'll be fun,” he said.

“And we'll get to share a bed.”

Jeremy gave me a slow smile. “Yeah. Maybe it'll work out differently this time. Although it might be awkward
with Avery and Fletcher there.”

“Not if we're quiet,” I said in a low voice. “And I can whisper.”

He laughed. “At least my back shouldn't cramp.”

Reaching across the table, I squeezed his hand. “I'm really looking forward to it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I was also just a little bit nervous about the prospect of what all might happen when we were alone in a bedroom at the beach. It seemed like it had the potential to be so romantic. I decided I was going to pack candles, clean sheets—not that I thought those on the bed wouldn't be clean, but I just wanted to make sure. The more I thought about it, the more my palms began to grow damp. I needed a distraction.

“Hey, I'm working at the shelter this afternoon,” I said. I volunteered at Second Chance, the local pet shelter, at least three times a week. “You know, if you can sneak away from the office.”

“Not today. Besides, I need to get a haircut after work. My dad's been ragging on me about it. Just this morning he said I looked like I was a member of a rock band.”

Jeremy looked more like a choirboy. His hair barely touched his ears. “Maybe you should grow it out for the rest of the summer. You know, continue the little rebellious streak you started by not asking your parents about the
beach trip. I could really dig running my fingers through the longer strands.”

He studied me over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his sweet tea. “The law office is so conservative.”

“But you're not actually a lawyer.”

“True.” He ran his finger up and down the condensation on the glass. “Think you'd like it long?”

“I'd love it long,” I admitted. Jeremy was cute but I thought longer hair would make him hot. And if he didn't shave every day he'd look older. Like Fletcher. Course Fletcher
was
older.

“I didn't think my hair really mattered to you.”

I lifted my shoulders. “I like it however you want it, but it doesn't hurt to change things up now and then.” I wound some strands of my curly hair around my finger. “I'm thinking of cutting mine way short.”

“I like it long.”

“It's just so hard to take care of.”

“Yeah, pulling it back in a ponytail is probably challenging,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

I tossed a chip of ice at him. He ducked, laughed. I was so glad to hear him laugh. I hated when he was having a tough time dealing with his dad.

“I'm also thinking about adopting a dog,” I confessed.

“Your mom would kill you.”

I dropped my head back, groaned. “I know.” I must
have inherited my love of dogs from my dad because my mom was not a fan. “But there's this little basset hound, Bogart. He's twelve, has arthritis in his hips, moves slowly. He's been there for three weeks. I don't think anyone is going to want him.”

“Maybe you should give it a little more time.”

“If you're not getting a haircut, maybe you could stop by the shelter, adopt him. Your mom is home all day.” His mother didn't have a job. She was into serving on boards and committees for various charities around town, which I guessed was another sort of work.

“I don't think either of my parents would welcome a dog. And what about when I go off to college?”

“Do you have to be so practical?” I was really getting desperate to find a home for Bogart. Not that it was my job to place dogs. My job was to clean out their kennels, but still, I worried about them.

“Sorry, babe, but I know the dog would be miserable in my house.”

Because Jeremy was miserable in his house. Or not in his house, but with his parents. They'd never really warmed up to me or made me feel welcome. They weren't rude or anything, but they were very distant. I was not at all bothered that we hardly ever spent any time at his place.

“I get that,” I told him.

“Maybe Avery will take him.”

“Maybe. I'll check with her.”

“Or maybe when you get to the shelter, you'll find he's been adopted.”

“That would be even better,” I admitted.

But when I got to the shelter, Bogart was still in his kennel, curled in the corner. According to the forms that were filled out when he was brought in, his owner, Samuel Forrest, had died. I found that particularly sad. Not only had he lost someone he loved, but he'd lost his home.

He struggled to his feet, waddled over, and stuck his nose through one of the openings in the wired gate. I slipped my fingers through, rubbed his snout. Then, even though I had work to do, I opened the door, went in, and sat on the hard concrete. He crawled into my lap and I stroked his back.

“What am I going to do with you?” I asked with a sigh. We were a no-kill shelter so I knew he wouldn't be put down, but I hated thinking of his spending what little time he might have left in this small space. Removing a leash that was dangling over my shoulders, I hooked it to his collar. “Come on. Let's go out.”

His tongue was lolling as I escorted him down the hallway. The other dogs went nuts barking, but their time would come. They'd all get to come out for a romp in the
fenced-in area behind the shelter. When I got Bogart outside, I unhooked his leash. He just dropped down beside my feet.

I couldn't stay here with him. I had other dogs that I needed to bring out. Still I reached down and gave him an affectionate petting. He looked up, a plea in his eyes:
More, please.

So I gave him a brisk rubbing over his back. He looked as though he were in heaven. “I'll be back,” I told him reluctantly. He limped off to warm in the sun. My heart was breaking.

As I walked back inside, I pulled my phone from my shorts pocket and texted Avery.

Kendall:

At the shelter. Doesn't your brother want a dog?

Avery:

Course. He's a boy.

Kendall:

Come now. Have one for you.

Avery:

Not my decision.

Kendall:

Come look, anyway.

Avery:

K

I knew once I got her here that she would fall in love
with Bogart. Then she'd convince her parents that a dog was a good idea.

My step was a little lighter when I went to retrieve the chocolate lab whose owner had decided he had too many dogs. At least that was the reasoning he'd put on the intake form. I'd seen that reason countless times and I never understood it. Did the owner just look around one day and think,
I thought I had five dogs. Uh, I have six. One has to go.

Didn't make sense.

I heard the beep of an incoming text and glanced at my cell phone to see a message from Jeremy.

Thinking of U. ☺

Smiling, I sent him back the same message. He was always texting me with little reminders about how much he loved and thought about me.

Chocolate was happy to see me, his entire body jerking back and forth with the enthusiasm of his wagging tail. He knew what it meant when I was holding the leash. When I opened the door, he jumped up, his paws landing heavily on the shoulders of my five-foot-four frame and nearly taking me down to the ground. He licked my neck and face. “Okay, okay.” Here was another dog that I wished like crazy I could take home.

Heck, if I could, I'd take them all.

“Hey, Kendall,” Terri, the shelter's director, said as
she walked in carrying what looked like a Lhasa apso mix.

“What a cutie!” I ran my fingers over his silken hair. He was beautiful, looked to be recently groomed.

“His name is Fargo. His owner just surrendered him because she can't take care of him anymore. It was hard on her. She went through half a box of tissues while she filled out the paperwork.”

Difficult for the dog, too. He wouldn't be able to understand why he was here. But he had such a sweet face. “How old is he?”

“Four.”

“Then he won't be here long,” I assured her. The small, cute, young ones always went quickly.

“Hope not, but then I hope that for all of them.” She walked off to get him situated in his temporary home, and I led Chocolate outside. Once I unhooked the leash, he bounded across the open expanse. I could see Bogart still sunning himself.