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His eyes are warm and liquid as he looks at me with blatant, unabashed admiration. He then abruptly turns on his heel and marches towards the nearest bookshelf… leaving me standing in the wake of his charm with insides that now also feel warm and liquid.
The guy working at Relish was right. I’ve been missing out. This lobster roll is everything I’ve ever wanted in a sandwich. And if it weren’t for the sadistic ducks staring me down, this would be the perfect picnic.
One of the brown ones takes a waddly step out of the pond, black eyes still intent on me, and I try not to flinch. I had no idea that ducks make me uncomfortable until right this second—America is teaching me so much about myself.
“Oooh, okay, scenario for you: would you rather fight one hundred duck-sized horses, or one horse-sized duck?” Keeley responds cheerfully. “The horses, obviously. How is that even a question?” She giggles. “I think I’d take the horse-sized duck.” “You frighten me, Keeley Roberts,” I say. In a good way, I find myself adding.
Her eyes widen, and I pull my thumb away quickly. She looks back down at her sandwich and busies herself pulling a pickle off it. She doesn’t like pickles. Noted.
All I wanted to do in that moment was lean into his touch, hold onto that feeling for as long as possible. But I had to remind myself that he wasn’t touching me to be sensual and was instead cleaning Miracle Whip off my face like I often have to do with Everett.
“I’m sorry to hear that, honey. Your grandmother was one of the good ones.” “She was my favorite person,” Becks says, and Sissy smiles sadly.
Kind of crazy, when you think about it, that one breakup can rewrite generations of people.”
“If not the universe, then it has to be this crazy building that keeps locking us in confined spaces together,” he jokes. At least, I think he’s joking.
“No, not my girlfriend.” We’re at the door now, but before Sammie opens it, she levels serious dark brown eyes on me. “Why? Does she think you suck? Because you don’t.” This makes me snort. “Thanks for that, Sammie,” I say with a chuckle, patting her head.
“Beckett thinks you’re pretty, by the way!” Keeley’s mouth falls open. “Sammie!” the girl’s mother chides, barely hiding her smile. “She’s not wrong,” I say with a shrug and enjoy the way Keeley’s cheeks flame red.
After a moment, I drop my grip, and Keeley shoves her hand in her pocket. Looks down at her Converse. Meanwhile, I rub the back of my neck, trying to play it like I didn’t just feel a million sparks travel through me.
Keeley has only been a part of my life for a couple of weeks, but I already know that she’s made up of many layers. Layers I can’t get enough of peeling back and seeing. She’s strong and feisty and funny yet vulnerable and sweet and caring all at once. The best person I’ve met in a long time. My Gran would have loved her.
I step out onto the metal platform… and find Beckett already sitting down, looking in my direction. Like he was waiting for me. Butterflies swirl in my stomach as little Sammie’s words from earlier ring in my ears again: “Beckett thinks you’re pretty, by the way!” Then Beckett telling me, “She’s not wrong.” I mean, way to make a girl blush.
and then I made that box of that macaroni and cheese you put in my shopping basket at Spring Foods.” Beckett grimaces. “I don’t know why they call it Kraft Dinner, because there was absolutely nothing edible inside that box.”
“You are such a charmer,” I mutter under my breath as Nori ushers us inside. He’s walking just a step behind me, and he dips his head so his lips are close to my ear. “Are you charmed, Keeley?” A shiver rolls through me. “Absolutely not.” His responding laugh lights me up from the inside.
It’s not that I don’t want him to smile at Nori… more that I want that smile directed at me. Always.
“Maybe a summer romance could be good for me. And maybe one could be good for him…” I find myself saying. Apparently, I’m just leaping the fence now, no inhibitions.
“Well, I’m no performer, but when I was nervous to present in school, my Gramps always told me to pretend everyone was in their underwear to help ease the nerves.” Oh, boy. Her belly button ring and freckled stomach immediately jump to the forefront of my mind. As if I wasn’t already a jumble of nerves. “Don’t say that,” I groan.
There’s no misreading the moment this time. She feels these sparks, too. The revelation excites me way more than it should.
“By the way, I told Ez about our gramps and your gran.” “Was he surprised?” “Shocked as we were.” She shrugs. “I think he’s fully invested in the soap opera now, too.” “As he should be.” I nod my approval.
I shoot her a flirty smile. “Are you asking me on a date, Keeley Roberts?” I’m only kidding around, but the second the words are out of my mouth, I realize how much I don’t want them to be a joke.
My words have her flustered, and she stuffs her hands in her pockets. Takes them back out. Pockets them again. It’s adorable.
Somehow, my smile gets even wider. “It’s a date.” “You’re trouble, McCarthy.” “You like it, Roberts.”
“He cleans, too?!” Nori stage-whispers—loud enough so he can hear, of course. Beckett takes it in his stride, laughing as he rakes a hand through his already-tousled hair. “What can I say? My mam taught me well.”
“Sláinte,” Becks declares. “Come again?” “Cheers, in Gaelic.” “Sláinte!” we all cry in unison, slamming our cans together. I take a sip and immediately regret it. Guinness is disgusting. Like, super gross. I try not to gag as I set down the can, wiping the foam from my mouth. Yuck.
the last clean latte glass, and he slings a casual arm around me. “This was a good night,” he proclaims, and when I turn to look at him, I notice how loose his body language is, how bright and shiny his eyes are. “Beckett McCarthy, are you a little drunk right now?” His grin is equal parts sheepish and adorable. “I warned you I was an awful lightweight, didn’t I?”
I smile. “C’mon, McTipsy. Let’s get you home.”
And as we set off, fingers brush against my hand—almost tentatively, like they’re asking a question. A question there’s only one answer to. My heart picks up as our fingers thread together, intertwining seamlessly. It’s the perfect end to a perfect night.
“I wanna sit next to you and Kiwi,” Everett declares, smiling up at me. Kiwi might be the cutest nickname I’ve ever heard. “Deal, little man.”
“It could be.” Keeley’s voice is soft and accompanied by the sensation of her foot gently pressing against mine under the table. I meet her eyes, and she swallows. “And I’d love to be able to listen to it again after you leave. It was so beautiful.”
“Sure,” I find myself saying and then feel an accompanying shiver of excitement. Although I’m not sure how much of that has to do with the idea of recording, and how much has to do with the fact that Keeley is now playing full-blown footsie with me under the table. Almost experimentally, I press my foot back against hers. Not going to lie, I have never thought of feet as sexy. Not my thing. At all. But I might be reconsidering that. Because I like everything about Keeley Roberts. Including her feet, apparently.
I’ve planned a few things that aren’t maybe the most traditionally romantic or popular first date ideas, but they’re things I think she will like. That will show her I’m paying attention. Doing everything I can to see her clearly.
“I wanted to give you a good first date, and I only had dessert to work with.” He turns and gives me that lopsided, dimpled grin of his I love so much, and adds, “I wanted to make sure you were suitably impressed.”
“Two of whatever you want,” he says, and I have to say, I love that he wants to try my favorite thing on the menu. At every turn, it’s like he’s searching to know more about me—from the little things to the big ones.
And that’s how we end up sitting on the tailgate of his truck in the parking area, overlooking a mostly deserted highway as we eat our ice creams… and somehow, it’s the most romantic date I’ve ever been on. Because it’s exactly what I would have picked. And he somehow knew it.
Lay my head on his shoulder like it’s something I’ve done a million times before. Soft suede-like material against my cheek. Woodsy, fresh scent in my nose. My stomach is full of a million butterflies, all vibrating in anticipation of…. something. “I’m always going to remember this summer,” Becks says suddenly, like he’s reading my mind.
“The summer I met Keeley Roberts.” I wait for him to elaborate. To add something I did or said that was funny or embarrassing. But he says nothing further. I twist my head to look at him, and he shrugs, his eyes burning into mine as he says, “That’s it, that’s what I’m going to remember. You.”
Because under Becks’s sunny, carefree surface, he’s a complex person who feels deeply. Who loves deeply and puts the people around him before himself. I think, in the process, he’s neglected himself, emotionally—a fact that hurts my heart.
“Colds are from germs, not weather,” I tell him. “That’s what I always said.” He chuckles, and I feel his laugh vibrate through me. “Why do I feel like I’ve known you all my life, Keeley Roberts?”
“Because we were meant to meet each other this summer,” I reply with confidence. “Be here together for this time.” As if to compound my point, I glance at the front door of the building, where my key is still lodged in the lock. I reach out, turn the key again, and right away the door springs open. “Well, would you look at that,” Beckett says. He’s still holding me. “Would you look at that,” I echo as I clutch him tighter.
I wasn’t expecting or planning to kiss her. My goal for the night was simply to make her feel safe and desirable and cared for. I only intended to do something thoughtful and meaningful for her.
My words are polite, but my tone is anything but. I can’t help it. Seeing Andrew brings up this protective, almost primal instinct in me. I know he’s old news for Keeley now, but the fact is, he hurt her. Therefore, I kind of want to deck him in the face.
The song playing on the speakers comes to an end, and I blink, breaking the moment. I’m nervous, I realize. Have a stomach full of butterflies over a boy who makes me feel like I’m beautiful.
“Menace.” His voice is somehow soft and rough at once, his thumb still scraping over my lip. “I didn’t think I’d have to compete with a senior citizen with multiple wild boar paintings on his walls for your affections, but maybe my ego got the better of me.”
“I thought you didn’t dance.” “Tonight, I do.”
Sometimes, we’ve just got to be thankful for what we’ve got, in the moment we’ve got it. And trust that, no matter how the chips fall, the eventual outcome will be okay.
“Or, just throwing something crazy out there.” His expression turns playful. “Maybe she’s better off with you, you doofus.”
The reason I thought I made a terrible boyfriend was because I was closed off emotionally, but Keeley cracks open all of my deepest, darkest emotions without even trying. By just being her. She makes me believe in better. Believe I can be better.
No more refusing to feel, because falling for Keeley requires—no, demands—to be felt in full.
