Page 48 of Sunny Goes Cold Turkey
Well, my curiosity is piqued. I can’t type fast enough.
ANDERS
LIKE WHAT SUNFL9WER???
I smash the send button, leaving my desperate message as-is, in its all-caps, misspelled glory.
Her phone buzzes and she scans the text. “Ugh!” She groans, pushing herself to stand. “You are so much trouble. I’m leaving before you get me fired or we ruin your career or both.”
She holds out a hand like she’s going to pull me to my feet. I take it, jump to a stand, and pull her to me in one swift motion. Wrapping my arms around her, I steal one more long, selfish hug. Oliver can deal.
“Good night, Anders,” she says into my neck. Her warm breath on my skin is torture. She pulls away, her eyebrows are furrowed and her mouth is drawn into a line. “That… we can’t be doing any more of that.”
I hold my fingers up in the Boy Scout salute. “Last one, I promise.”
Nothing can stop me from texting her two minutes after she walks out that door, though.
17. Sunny Shushes Anders
“Honey, I’m home,” I grumble to Mercer as I walk in our front door. Anders just gave me one last hug. We said goodbye and I listened to sad Celine Dion love songs the whole drive home. Next, I’m having a pity party catered by my friends Ben and Jerry. I dump my bag on the floor and stomp into the kitchen.
“Geesh. Rough day?” she grunts, from what looks like an intense yoga pose in the middle of our living room. She’s wearing her holey, velvet track pants that read “Juicy” across the bottom and are at least fifteen years old. She found them in a thrift shop when we were in high school and has worn them consistently since. Her predictability is comforting.
“Something like that,” I call from the kitchen, digging through the freezer. There’s a half-eaten pint of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream in here somewhere. “I got busted for making out with Anders last night. Oliver gave me a talking to.”
I give up on my ice cream. It’s probably freezer burned by now, anyway. Defeated, I flop on the couch.
Mercer faceplants. “What?” she screeches, muffled by her yoga mat. She scrambles into a sitting position with her legs folded under her. “I mean, I figured you guys weren’t making friendship braceletsin your closet, butwhat? And how in the heck did Oliver find out? I haven’t told anyone!” She holds up two fingers. “Scout’s honor.”
Geez, she looks like the female version of Anders right now. Not the reminder I needed. I scowl thinking of his Scout’s promise to stop hugging me.
“I think it’s like this,” I mumble, holding up three straight fingers. “Anyway, I guess Anders butt-dialed Oliver when we were…you know… and he heard it. A lot of it.” My face heats at the thought. I’ve been blushing about it off and on all afternoon, ever since Ollie came over at lunch and laid down the law.
Mercer cackles, standing. “No way! Talk about crummy luck.” She drops onto the cushion beside me. “Well? So?”
“So, what?” I hug one of our yellow throw pillows against my stomach.
“Ugh! What else? How was it? Making out with Anders Beck? How am I even asking this question? I’m offended you didn’t tell me about it the minute you got home last night.”
“Merce, you were dead asleep by the time I got home.” I wanted to talk to her, but anyone who prefers to keep their face attached to their skull lets Mercer sleep. “And to answer your question, it was… surreal. But it’s over. Oliver made sure I understood that nothing can happen between us, or it will essentially ruin Anders’ career.”
“Pfffft.” She rolls her eyes. “Oliver is a tool. He better have given that same lecture to his boss.”
I nod. “Anders and I decided on some professional boundaries. Rules.”
She makes a fart noise in response. “That is lame.”
I have to agree. “Yeah, but we all need this movie to go well, right?” I’m talking myself into this, but I shouldn’t have to. This is huge for our resort. I honestly don’t know if we’re prepared to handle the publicity that will come from being used as a location for this movie. We’ve been busy enough since Indigo’s crazy social media following discovered us. My brother’s fiancée used our resort to hideout when she needed a break from the spotlight and it worked out very well for all involved. She found my brother and it put our resort on the map. That’s how the location scouts found us. Now here we are, making out with movie stars in closets.
Mercer shrugs. “So, what are the rules? Did you run them past Oliver for approval?” She mimics his robotic tone with disdain I’ve never seen in her before. Mercer doesn’t sugar coat anything and she’ll tell you right away if you’re being a doofus, but she doesn’t just dislike people. My spidey senses are tingling.
“Um… what’s your beef with Oliver?”
She jumps from the couch. “No beef.” She’s rolling up her yoga mat awfully fast.
“Mercer. What?” I know there’s something.
She groans. “Nothing. He’s just annoying. I’ve been helping Joe this week—”
