Page 24 of Merritt and Her Childhood Crush
Fleeingthe big house isn’t enough distance. So I hop in Lo’s car and put thirty minutes, a giant bridge, and an entire intercoastal waterway in between me and Hunter.
Hunter—who was totally messing with meand I liked it.
Hunter—whose big, callused hand cupped my cheek with impossible tendernessand I wanted to kiss him.
Hunter—who already broke my heart onceand I can’t live through it again.
Armed with the address for a tile store Lo put in her planning doc, I make a pit stop at Crumbl. Honestly, there isn’t much that a five-hundred-calorie Kentucky butter cake cookie can’t cure. Especially when it’s chased by a giant cold-brew coffee.
At least once a week, my coworker bestie, Jana, and I escaped the office for Crumbl cookies. Though it’s a chain, I thought it might remind me of New York or make me feel homesick for the city. Nope. Already, my life there feels like a skin I’ve shed.
Trouble is, Oakley doesn’t fit either, which leaves me in a bit of a freefall. How am I ever supposed to feel like I’mhomewhen I don’t actually belong anywhere? Except, in that brief moment when Hunter’s hand cupped my cheek, Ididfeel like I was home.
The thought makes my throat feel tight.
No.No, no, and a little more no for good measure. Hunter does not—CANNOT—feel like home because I will never be the same for him.
I give my head a good shake as I follow the GPS directions toward the tile store. I can’t forget that everything about this situation is temporary. I just need to get a hold of myself, figure out a way to keep my composure even when Hunter is around. Then we can finish the renovation and move on with our very separate lives.
I dig deep and channel a little bit of New York Merritt. She was never flustered in stressful situations. She always kept her cool, knew exactly the right words to say.
Because I always knew the right answer.That’s it. I just have to do the same thing here. Arm myself with knowledge. Know the answers.Need Hunter less.
“I will OWN you, tile,” I say out loud as I park my car. “Subway tile. Backsplash. Grout. See? I know tile words.”
Maybe not what they all mean, but vocabulary is a good start.
My new resolve, combined with the rush of sugar and caffeine in my system, has put me in a fantastic mood by the time I walk up to Hamilton’s Custom Tile and Interiors. This place is so very Eloise. The shop is in a small strip center and has a bright pink and green awning with the name in a handwritten script font. Big potted palms out front complete the picture.
Inside, as I wander the aisles, making notes in my phone about various tile shapes and materials—I realize just how much Hunter was messing with me.
“Oh, you’re bad, Hunter. Soverybad.”
I’m staring at Saltillo tile—one of the more memorable names Hunter mentioned. Is it appropriate for a kitchen backsplash? No. No, it is not. Does it look at all like it would fit with Lo’s aesthetic for the house? Not even close.
The tileispretty. I could see the pinky coral square tiles working in another beach house with a different vibe. But only on thefloor. Because these arefloortiles.
“Don’t think I won’t give back as good as I get, mister,” I mutter.
Mister?I sound like Gran. Plus, I’m talking to myself out loud, something she always used to do. Maybe living on Gran’s property is rubbing off on me. Whether that’s good or bad, time will tell.
What’s definitely not good is whatever happened earlier between Hunter and me.
What even was that moment? We were fine. Talking about tile. And then I spiraled into a sort of babbling panic, and Hunter moved closer. Then he put his hand on my face and leaned closer and—
“Are you looking for flooring?” a voice asks.
I recognize the man with the bright smile and long dreads who is standing beside me. He was chatting with other customers when I walked in. He looks just amused enough to make me think he overheard me talking to myself.
“Backsplash, actually.”
He glances at the Saltillo tile sample in front of me. “Right. Well, these are mostly used for flooring. If you’re looking for backsplash—”
“What if your contractorsuggestedSaltillo for a backsplash?”
He looks surprised. “I’d say hire a new contractor.”
Now,there’san idea.
