Page 41 of Hot Girl Summer

“I have yoga at six.”

“So come after, we’ll still be there. That is, if you want to. You can bring Stefan and James if you like. And I’m sure Ollie would love to see April again.”

Great. Nothing screams strictly platonic like bring your two gay housemates and your best friend.

“Actually, that sounds good.”

“Maybe I’ll bore you with my life story.”

The fact that he feels comfortable enough to tell me things speaks volumes. I smile, and I can just about make out his dimples in the dark.

Chapter Eleven

“Well,well,well,littleone.” James says, as I walk through to the living room. “How was your impromptu date?”

“It wasn’t a date. We were hungry, and I wanted to thank him for the tickets.”

“Oh my,” he says, clutching at imaginary pearls. “Look at you embracing your hot girl summer.”

“He’s not my type.”

“You don’t have a type,” Stefan scoffs. “Ryan and Alex are polar opposites.”

“Physically,” James adds.

“What about me?” Stefan asks.

“I fancied you for like a day in middle school, Stefan,” I say. “Anyway, I liked your accent.”

“You felt sorry for me because I wore glasses and couldn’t control my curls.”

“I liked you because you had a kind heart.”

I perch on the arm of the sofa, swinging my little legs around to rest my feet on Stefan’s thighs.

“You still do, and even if I did like Danny, he’s still married.”

“He’s separated. It’s not the same.”

“It still makes it complicated,” I muse. “So get this...Monty James is his wife’s cousin.”

Their mouths fall open.

“Wow, well if she’s half as hot as he is, she must be a supermodel.”

“Thanks for that,” I say, dying a little inside.

Whatever spark I had left burning through me as a result of my evening with Danny, Stefan’s comment had singlehandedly extinguished it.

James gives me a sympathetic smile, then pats Stefan’s leg.

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight, gorgeous.”

Stefan glances at his watch, and rises to follow his husband. It’s not late, but I’m dealing with a married couple who are old beyond their years.

Once I’m alone, I slump down onto the couch. My clothes are still damp, but the sofa has soaked up the warmth from Stefan and James’ body heat. Sinking down into the worn fabric, I pull out my phone, check my Instagram notifications and re-read my last DM conversation with Danny.

I sit with it for a few moments, contemplating, thinking about him. Replaying the night’s events over and over in my head while I study the avatar on his Twitter profile. In the photo, his hair is at least a shade darker, and the lines around his eyes aren’t as prominent as they are now. There’s no light, no warmth or happiness behind his eyes. I feel sad for the person he used to be. I try to convince myself to go to bed, but Stefan’s words resonate in my head, and curiosity gets the better of me. I open up Facebook like the stalker that I am now becoming.

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