Page 63 of Plotting Summer

Okay, apparently my smile can grow wider than I previously thought. “That’s what we’re watching?”

“I’m glad to see one of us is excited.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t like romcoms either.”

He leans back in his chair, studying me. “You’re still dwelling on my admission that I’m not much of a reader, aren’t you?”

“I’m not dwelling on it. Not really.”

Tristan folds his arms over his broad chest. “Would it help my case if I told you I read a book while you were gone?”

“You did?” I ask, taking another bite of my sandwich.

“I did. It was absolutely gripping. Eye-opening even.”

See? He just has to catch the bug and he’ll be a reader in no time. “Was it fiction or non-fiction?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I’d probably say fiction, but it was definitely based on true events.” The way Tristan is watching me with a growing smile gives me pause, and suddenly I understand his meaning.

My lips part. “Did you read my book?”

“How could I not? I had to check for accuracy. And can I just say, your whole loosely based off of us comment was entirely misleading?”

I cover my face with my hand and groan. “I assumed you’d read it, I just … can we not talk about it?”

Tristan laughs. “But I have so many questions.”

“How about we save them for later? When we’re not celebrating?” I hope he’ll take pity on me. I get that my reckoning day is coming, but I really don’t want it to be tonight. Though I’m not sure tomorrow is much better. Or the day after that.

“It’s your night, so I guess I can wait.” His head tilts to the side and his smile widens, matching mine. “But just so you know, you’re not getting out of this one.”

As I sit in the cozy little pool with Tristan next to me, my focus is on anything but the movie. Each movement he makes, no matter how small, sends me into a strange anticipatory state. I’m also excessively aware of the current position of his hand and the exact distance, down to millimeters, between our legs. The levels of flirting we’ve engaged in tonight is top notch, but I’m still not entirely certain what Tristan wants or where we stand on the whole summer fling concept. Well, I know where I stand, and it doesn’t include us sitting four inches and six millimeters apart from each other while I pretend to watch a movie I’ve seen countless times. Not that I don’t love it—it’s my absolute favorite—but Tristan’s currently taking up every ounce of brain energy I possess. Which, after edits and with how tired I am, isn’t much to start with.

About halfway through the movie, he leans back, propping his head on a pillow, and his gaze slides to me. It’s only then I realize I’m watching him and not the movie. Quickly, I turn my attention back to the screen, squinting as if I haven’t been blessed with near perfect vision. His hand slides around my wrist, and he gives a little tug on my arm.

I glance down at him, and he pats his chest with his other hand invitingly. And like a bug drawn to a bright, beautiful light, my path is set. I lay down next to him, and he wraps his arm behind me, guiding me against his side. Timidly, I set my hand on his chest, and his other hand settles over mine. I’m pretty sure I’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Comfortable?” he asks, and I nod. “Good.”

I’m so comfortable, in fact, I could fall asleep right here. Not that I will. I want to enjoy every moment I’m in his arms. But with how perfectly content I am and how heavy my eyes suddenly are, it’s going to take a massive effort to stay awake. An effort I’m willing to undertake.

“Capri?” Tristan’s voice is so close, I’m sure I’m dreaming.

“Hmmm …” There’s no way I’m so much as cracking an eye open if I’m having a Tristan dream.

“Let’s get you home.” Fingertips that feel far too real for a dream brush across my cheek. I peek open an eye to find Tristan smiling down at me with an amused smile. “Hey, you.”

My lips part when I realize exactly where I am. “I fell asleep? I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not complaining.”

I rub a hand over my eyes, glancing at the blank movie screen and blinking a couple times to try and get it into focus. “But the celebration and the movie. I⁠—”

“Nope. It was absolutely perfect.” His fingers brush against my cheek again. “You smile in your sleep. Did you know that?”

I shake my head, feeling my face warm beneath his attentive regard.

“Just every once in a while, your lips curl into a small little smile.”