“First of all, maybe you should focus on your own love life instead of mine. I have this handled with Henry. I’m going to start dressing extra hot so instead of staring at me in horror, he realizes how hot I am. What’s your plan for getting over your little girlfriend?” I tease, turning the conversation back on JJ.
“I have no plans to get over Marley, but she’s not my girlfriend.”
“JJ, we’re hot, single athletes. I’m in love with someone who will probably never return my feelings, and you’re pining for a girl whose last name you don’t know, that you spent less than a day with. Why are we like this?”
For spring break last year, our family spent the week at our house in the countryside of France, and JJ met an American girl at the café in the village. He fell head over heels for her, but forgot to get some crucial details, like her full name or phone number. JJ’s been looking for her ever since with no luck so far.
He snorts, clearly finding it as funny as I do. “Because we grew up watching our parents be sickeningly in love. We’re hopeless romantics.”
“Hopeless for sure,” I agree, pulling into our neighborhood. “Hey, have you heard from Bailey? I sent him a text the other day and never heard back.”
“No, he’s been ignoring all my calls and texts, so I was going to ask you the same thing,” JJ says, sighing. “Hunter said he’s been a jerk the last two weeks, so if you have time, would you be willing to go to the beach house this weekend to check on him? I have a bad feeling, but my schedule is insane, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back.”
“Yeah, it’s no biggie. It’s not like I have any friends to hang out with here, so at least I can force Bailey and Hunter to hang out with me,” I say, poking fun at my sad social life. There’s a distinct smell of smoke in the air, but it must be some teenager having a fire pit in their backyard. I’m glad they have someone to hang out with. “All seriousness, I’ll head there after leaving work Friday.”
“What do you think is going on with . . .” JJ’s voice tunes out in my head as I go to turn onto our street. I see flashing lights everywhere, and I can’t just smell the smoke, I can see it.
“JJ, shut up,” I say quietly, parking my car up the street since all the spots in front of the house are filled with emergency vehicles.
“That’s rude, I’m trying to tal—”
“JJ,” I say his name sharply, and he stops immediately.
Oh shit.I climb out of the car, and I’m immediately met by a police officer. “Miss, please get back in your car,” he says, holding up a hand to stop me.
“That’s my house.” I point, and his face immediately shifts to one of sympathy, silently telling me ours was the one on fire.
Mom and Dad are going to kill me. I’ve been here for two weeks, and the house is on fire.
“I’m going to bring someone over to speak with you. Just a moment,” he says, backing away.
I didn’t straighten my hair, so there’s no way I accidentally left it on. I ate a granola bar for breakfast on the way to the coffee shop, so I didn’t cook anything.
Was there something else I could have done to cause this?
I stare at the house in horror, smoke burning my eyes, and put the phone back to my ear. “JJ, I’ll call you back. I have to call Mom . . . and hope she doesn’t murder me for the house burning down.”
CHAPTER SIX
Henry
MY PHONE THAT I’m trying to ignore won’t stop ringing and I don’t feel like getting my ass chewed out for how today went with Mirabelle and Stacey. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but I was still an asshole. I probably need to apologize to Mirabelle tomorrow, because she didn’t deserve my shitty attitude. It’s not her fault I put myself in a situation where I needed a PR boost.
“Fuck, if you aren’t going to answer the phone, will you at least look and see who is calling you? I’m sick of listening to it ring,” Wilson snaps exasperatedly, glaring from where he’s sprawled out on the other end of the couch.
“It’s on vibrate,” I smart back. He’s probably right, though. I should check it. Avoidance only works for so long.
“Just because it’s on vibrate doesn’t mean you can’t still hear it, Price.” He flips me off, turning to focus back on the game.
I roll my eyes, setting my book down to flip the phone over just as it stops vibrating.
Five missed calls from Sebastian Walker.
I sit up abruptly, running a hand through my hair. What the fuck did Mirabelle say to him about today?
I run through a quick list of every interaction I had with her. I wasn’t mean to her in the weight room with Stacey, but I wasn’t necessarily nice either. I even cracked a few jokes with her, but I know I was standoffish for the most part. I gave her my shirt after Quinn fucking soaked her other one, but I didn’t feel the need to point out that her bra was showing through. She probably already knew, but I felt bad. I gave the shirt to Mirabelle for selfish reasons because I didn’t want anyone staring at her.
I call him back, waiting to hear what my death sentence is going to be after being a dick to his only daughter.
