Page 14 of Hot Girl Summer

There’s no point in lying now.

“Well now you know my real name, you can think of it as a gift with purchase.” My words from the night before resurface in my mind. “I’ll tell you the story sometime, if I ever see you again.”

This time, I secretly hope I will.

Chapter Four

Afterwork,Iheadto The Ethical Coffee Co, Brighton’s latest hipster hangout, for a much-needed caffeine fix. Rich, roasted coffee grounds and baked goods perfume the air as I spot Stefan sitting by the window looking every inch the sophisticated style icon that he is. He looks right at home here, with his mass of long curls flipped to one side, slouchy mauve tee, and ripped denim shorts.

“I’ve ordered you a coconut caramel iced coffee,” he says, not looking up from the book he’s reading.

“My hero,” I say, pulling up a chair.

He turns a page and finishes what he’s reading before he closes the book and lays it on the table as I savour the rich, creamy sweetness of my first sip. “So, how was your day?”

“Eventful. Remember that guy from last night?”

“Is he balls deep in your DMs yet?”

I almost spit out my drink. “Not quite. He came into my work, and now he knows my real name, so I guess it’s only a matter of time before he finds my socials.”

“Is that really so bad? He seemed nice.”

“With a side of asshole.”

He shoots me a pointed look. Stefan always likes to give people the benefit of the doubt, and he’s right of course. Danny had shown that he could be a decent human being, and that perhaps there could be more to him than I initially thought.

“Nice isn’t my brand, Stefan.”

“Well, maybe it should be.”

I navigate the Spotify app, and slide the phone across the table.

“That’s his band.”

Stefan grabs the phone, and after a brief inspection followed by tapping, typing, pausing, scrolling, swiping, and more tapping, a suspiciously proud smile spreads across his face. “Daniel Pearce.”

“How did you...?”

“Twitter. You can thank me later.”

On the outside, Stefan is every hipster Viking-lover’s dream, but on the inside, he’s that secretly nerdy kid you see in movies. I should start calling him Joe Goldberg.

He shows me the phone screen, which displays Danny’s bio and a photo that must have been taken ten years ago.

Catfishing prick.

Before handing it back, he hits the follow button.

“Stefan!” My voice raises an octave as I snatch the phone from his hand. “I can't believe you just did that.”

“You can’t unfollow him now, because he’ll know, and you’ll look like a stalker.”

And he’ll be callingmeJoe Goldberg.

“You’re such an ass.”

“Hee-haw.”

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