Page 23 of Hot Girl Summer

I feel ridiculous for saying it out loud.

“That’s...different.”

“We all have our little quirks. What’s yours?”

“I’m really into giving lifts to strangers. I like to show off my driving skills.”

“I’m impressed,” I say, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

“Not yet. But you will be.”

He glances at me and smiles. In actual fact, Iamimpressed, and pleasantly amused. To avoid any incoming awkwardness, I tear my gaze away and turn up the dial to its original volume.

“I love this song,” I say, mouthing the words to Monty James’ new release. Danny cranks up the volume a couple more times, making a point to keep it even, and sings along while his fingers drum the steering wheel. His pitch and tone proves that he’s no Frank Sinatra, but his singing voice is far from terrible.

“Did you hear Monty’s playing a secret gig at Quiet Waters next weekend?” he says.

“No way, are you kidding? We tried to get tickets for his last gig, but it sold out so quick. It was impossible.”

I swipe across my phone screen and frantically type, “Monty James Quiet Waters,” into the search bar. After a few moments of tapping, I find what I’m looking for.

“Sold out,” I say, throwing my phone into my lap.

“It was worth a try.”

Danny asks about my family, and without going into too much detail, I mention that my parents are still together and that my sister, Kiki, is recovering from an illness. Once again, he seems genuinely interested in what I have to say. Either that, or he has great acting skills. Once I’m finished, he shares his parents’ expectations of him to be the next Clapton or Chopin.

“When I was little, they threw my brother and I into guitar and piano lessons, and, luckily for them, I instantly fell in love with music. My brother? Not so much. We were in secondary school when we formed The Wandering Dragons. My brother was the singer before he gave it all up and Ollie joined.”

“You wanted to impress all the teenyboppers?”

“We wanted to be the next Oasis,” he laughs. “But we always knew it wasn’t a viable career choice. Music was and always will be my passion, but it won’t ever be a steady form of income.

“After I graduated Uni, I launched my business in wealth management. It works for me. I still get to do what I love, and what I like.”

“That’s kind of beautiful,” I say, half-joking, half-sad.

In a way, I feel sorry for him. Sorry that he had to grow up with what seems like pushy parents, and I’m grateful that my own have always been beyond supportive of my own life choices.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved at the gym. It was childish,” I say.

Apologies have never been my strong point, but I owe it to him to at least try.

“Like I said, I don’t offend easily. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I have a habit of digging myself a hole when I’m intimidated by a beautiful woman.”

My mouth falls open, and I struggle to speak. I don’t know whether to thank him, or jump out of the moving vehicle. Luckily, I don’t have to make that decision. When his cheeks turn a pale shade of pink, and his laugh breaks the silence, I follow suit. It’s refreshing to know that I’m not the only one who noticed how cringe-worthy those words sounded.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so cheesy. I’m not a melt. Promise.”

“You almost gave me the ick,” I say, still laughing.

“I thought I could win you over with my charm.”

“You’ll need to work harder than that.”

“I intend to,” he says, sobering.

His prospective intentions are intriguing to say the least, but it’s probably best to change the subject, before Summer gets me into trouble.

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