Page 6 of Those Summer Nights (Sweet Cravings 2)

He laughed too. I wasn't sure if it was with me or at me. But I liked his laugh. "I guess I'll see you on Thursday, Jellyfish Girl."

He does know my schedule.

He smiled at me and walked over to his lifeguard stand. I watched him push it away from the water so it wouldn't be swept away in high tide. He joined his friends. A girl ran up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the others. She had long brunette hair and perfectly tanned skin. She was basically a female equivalent of him. I instantly disliked her.

He turned his head and looked back in my direction. I quickly looked away and out toward the ocean. My heart was racing. I had let myself get excited for a second. Not that I wanted to date anyone. Besides, guys like that were never available. That was probably his girlfriend. I shook my head and lay back down on my blanket. So much for that. I still wished I had asked him his name, though.

Chapter 2

Tuesday

"I'm dying of starvation!" Kristen said and pretended to faint, falling backward onto the worn couch.

"Stop being so dramatic." I closed the front door of our little condo behind me. Most of the apartments had already been filled by the time I arrived at the beginning of summer, but I had found a room for rent above someone's garage. It was quaint, small, quiet, and so much

better than living in an apartment with a bunch of other people. I wanted to get away from college life, not immerse myself in the same situation just on the opposite side of the country. Plus, my place was only a block from the beach. The only downside was that I couldn't afford it on my own.

I had texted a few of my friends from high school, hoping to reconnect. But I quickly realized that I had completely lost touch with all of them. One of them was engaged to some billionaire in the big city. The exact opposite of me. Broke. Single. I tossed my bag on the floor and kicked off my flip flops, ignoring the fact that I desperately needed to sweep. The only downside of living at the beach was all the sand. Everywhere. Every. Where.

Thankfully, Kristen had answered my ad where I basically talked about being a loser and begged for a roommate. She never even made fun of me for it. And she wasn't around all that often. She liked to party. I liked to read. She liked to run several miles in the morning. I liked to eat ice cream for breakfast. In my defense, she was training to be part of the summer games next year, representing the U.S. women’s volleyball team. So she was training to win a gold medal. And I was…well, still eating ice cream for breakfast.

But she was always here for dinner. Training left her famished. Which was great, because I loved trying out new recipes for more than just myself. Actually, she was the perfect roommate, and she was quickly becoming one of my best friends.

I thought about all the people I believed I had been friends with in Santa Monica. They had dropped me like a hot potato. And all the people I had originally left behind in Delaware? Gone. Not dead, but dead from my life I guess. Who was I kidding? Kristen wasn't becoming one of my best friends. She was my only friend.

“Feed me, you monster!” Kristen said.

I flopped down on the couch beside her and hit her with a throw pillow.

"Ow." She snatched it from me. "If you're not going to cook, do you want to go out for dinner? Drinks are on me."

This sounds like margarita night all over again. "No, I'll cook." I got up and tried to hide my wince. The spray that the lifeguard had used on my legs had initially helped. But it had quickly worn off.

"What took you so long at the beach today?" Kristen asked. "Usually you're back at 5:05. And by usually, I mean always."

I opened up the fridge. "Nothing."

She laughed. "You're lying."

"I'm not lying."

“You are. But it’s okay. A few drinks in and I’ll get the truth out of you. I made a pitcher of sangria!”

There was no way I was drinking with her tonight. Confessing that I was attracted to the lifeguard in the first place was bad enough. A confession about being turned on just from the lifeguard’s touch was too much information. I barely knew Kristen, even if she was my bestie.

I ignored the pitcher of sangria and pulled out some broccoli, garlic, eggs, and cheddar cheese. “How does a quiche sound?”

“Not as good as tacos.”

"You know, you could always feed yourself."

She stuck out her bottom lip. "But the food you make is always so amazing.”

“Quiche it is then. Trust me, you’ll like it. The secret ingredient to a great quiche is red pepper flakes. It’s got that kick that you like.”

“Mmm. Okay, I trust you, Chef Mila.”

I laughed and started chopping the broccoli.

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