Page 93 of Beyond the Stroke

“What’s going on, kid?” I ask.

He wrings his hands together. “I’m worried about my spot on the four-by-one-hundred freestyle relay. With Connor here, I know he’ll knock me off the relay team.”

Logan smirks. “Don’t you worry about that. Connor doesn’t do relays.”

Xio tilts his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

I turn to Xio. “Logan’s right. He could anchor any relay team he wanted but he never does.”

“Why?” Finn asks, joining the conversation.

“Lone wolf,” Logan responds, still chowing down on his taco.

“So even though he could medal with all of the relay teams, he chooses not to?” Finn questions.

Their confusion is warranted. It doesn’t make sense to not lend your talent to a relay team, but that’s just another thing that bugs the hell out of me about Connor. And another reason why I’m dumbfounded that he joined the Current.

We finish the tacos, all sixty of them, then after a few games of Madden, the guys leave.

Once they’re gone, I pull Edgar into my lap, then check my email, before responding to some questions Vivi has for my social media. I send her a picture of me and Summer from thecourthouse ceremony. My arm around Summer’s waist while she’s staring up at me with a soft grin. It had been right before I kissed her. Right before everything shifted and I realized I was in way deeper than I meant to be.

I drop my phone and let my eyes close.

Even half-asleep on the couch, all I can think about is the way she looked at me today, and how damn much I want to see that look again.

twenty-four

. . .

SUMMER

Déjà vu hits the second I step out the back door of The Salty Pirate Café and spot Rory. My arms immediately cross over my chest. Not because it’s cold, because I’m annoyed. Mostly at Rory, but partially at myself for the rush of excitement at seeing him there.

“You don’t have to walk me home,” I say, giving him my best side-eye as I head for the dumpster with the bag of trash in my hand.

Rory follows, lifting the lid of the dumpster so I can throw the bag in.

“I know, but I didn’t want you to get lost.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, lips curving into the butterfly-inducing smile I know all too well.

When Rory smiles at me I get flustered. To hide my reaction, I overcompensate and become mean.

“What are you talking about? I’ve been in Coral Cove for months.”

“Yeah, but you just moved into my house today, so technically you’ve never walked home from the café to our place before.”

“Our place?” My brows lift.

“Used to be mine. But you live there now. Mine plus yours equals ours.”

He’s logical. He’s sweet. And he’s exasperating.

All I can do is shake my head.

“Did you have a good shift?” he asks, motioning for us to start walking.

“Yeah, we were busy as usual.”

Habit has me moving in the direction toward the RV park, but Rory takes my hand to pull me in the opposite direction.

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