Page 24 of Villainous Summer

“Nice to meet you, husband,” Devin joked.

I cracked a smile, extending my hand to shake hers.

It was warm, soft, and completely platonic. While Devin was cute, I was not attracted to her.

Summer looped an arm over Devin’s shoulders and smiled at me. “I told Devin all about how we met.”

Raising a brow, I waited for her to continue. Waiting for her version.

We had concocted a story at The Cabin: she was dropped off at the wrong house and knocked on my door, asking if she could wait out the rain on my porch. My version was finding her soaking my mother’s rug. And then there was her own version, the one she refused to explain to me.

Her story never made sense to me. There had to be more.

“Is that so?” I asked.

“Quite the dark knight, weren’t you?” Devin asked. “Thanks for saving my friend.”

“Oh yeah, the world is flush with knights swooping in today, aren’t they? So many gentlemen out there.” Summer drained the can, then held it upside down to shake out the dregs.

Summer’s phone chimed, and I saw “Nico” flash on the screen.

Dropping her hand from Devin’s shoulder, she stepped back. “I’m . . . um—getting another drink.”

Devin furrowed her brow before she shot me an awkward smile. “She’ll be right back.”

Tilting my drink up, I swallowed the rest of the warm liquid.

Summer

My cell was burning a hole in my hand, but I fought the urge to look at the messages from Nico again. It wouldn’t help to see his pity. I was a mix of emotions, and there was nothing Nico could say that would change the facts.

With a new can of seltzer in my hand, I glanced around the party.

Mr. Haruki had invited the usual people. In high school, the girls and I would sit on the balcony with our sodas and watch from above, rating our favorite entries.

That was a long time ago. I could begrudge my friends for moving on, but in the midst of what could be a real scandal of my own making, I felt irrevocably alone.

I knew the risks. Hell, I told Wren multiple times not to send nudes to her dipshit ex, Buck. But when I get asked, all reason goes out the window.

A neighbor waved me over to the table where they had set up a shot-ski.

With the one-and-half cherry fizzes alongside the three seltzers, my brain was already fuzzy.

But then my phone chimed again.

Nico: Sorry about the bomb I dropped on you. Let me know if you need anything.

I set it face down on the arm of a wicker patio couch and took place between Fred and some girl with short blonde hair.

The red liquor was sweet but burned as it went down. I fought back the cough as people around us cheered, and a new warmth flowed through me.

I grabbed a new can of seltzer and my phone, then headed toward Van, who was standing with a few others.

Without a word, I laced my arm through the crook of his elbow.

He looked down at me with surprise and what seemed to be appreciation.

After a few minutes of chatting, I laced my fingers with his and tugged Van toward the side of the house.

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