Third Base (The Boys of Summer Book 1)(61)
“What was that?” she asks, groggily.
“Um… I’m not sure, but we should go.” I look down at her, clad in only her bra and panties. “Seriously, babe, where’s your shirt?”
Her head turns slowly, and she reaches her hand up, her finger pointing out the window.
“It’s outside?” I ask, confirming my fear.
She nods slowly. “Along with the food and wine.”
“Shit, and my picnic basket.” I’m proud of that basket, but I’ll buy another one. Her shirt, though, is another story. I turn slightly, enough to knock her off my lap and reach into the back of my SUV. I know I have spare shirts somewhere in the back and while it’ll be huge on her, it’s better than getting out at my house with her half naked. And it’s sure as hell better than getting out of this vehicle right now to go get the one she left outside.
“Please don’t think less of me, but I’m not going to run out there and get our stuff, so put this on.” I hand her one of my BoRe shirts and help her slip it on. As I suspected, it’s huge and looks like a dress on her. She partially stands and shimmies back into her shorts while I climb up front and turn the car on. I crank the heat, because even though it’s not cold, I’m chilled from thinking about what’s outside watching us.
“Shit,” Daisy says as she climbs up front, looking at her phone. “There’s no service here.” She moves her phone higher in the car, looking for a signal.
“What’s wrong?” I look behind me, trying to determine if I can back up to get out of here then remember how shitty the driveway is and know that I need to turn around. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. Oh I know why, I was too busy professing my love and getting busy in my backseat. This is a classic case of thinking with the wrong head.
“I… uh… I forgot to call the night nurse.”
I look at her questioningly, but she doesn’t meet my gaze. It seems odd that she wouldn’t arrange for a night nurse knowing that I have the day off and had planned for us to spend the day together. Is it because I didn’t ask about the night too? I can see the worry on her face, so there’s no point is making a big deal about it.
Once I get turned around and off the driveway, I’m driving faster than I should, but the thought of John being home alone without care worries me. It’s not like Daisy to forget and that worries me too. As soon as we hit the Interstate, I take her hand in mine. I need to touch her, especially when she’s this close.
“Your grandpa will be fine,” I tell her, trying to calm her nerves. She seems agitated, and that’s the last thing I want. I push the speed limit and weave in and out of traffic, watching my mirrors for the blue lights that could be riding my tail.
The moment we’re exiting, her leg starts to bounce. “We’re almost there, babe.”
“I know, thank you.”
She knows she doesn’t have to thank me; I’d do anything for her and her grandfather. Luck is on our side and we hit every green light possible and there’s very little traffic. Her seatbelt is off before I pull up along the street.
“Thanks for today,” she says as she places a peck on my cheek and is out the door before I know what’s happening. She runs through the rain, to the entrance and punches in her code before disappearing behind the door. She didn’t even look back and wave or anything. Hell, I don’t know if I’ll even see her later.
Driving the streets to my house, I’m trying to figure out how everything changed so fast. One minute we’re freaking out together about the noises outside and then she’s in full panic mode about her grandfather. What strikes me as odd is that she didn’t even call him. She could’ve called once we were on the road to make sure he’s okay and we wouldn’t have had to rush home. We could’ve even stopped to pick him up some dinner and watch a game together.
As soon as I pull up outside my house, I decide to call her. I need to make sure she’s okay, as well as her grandpa. Daisy’s phone rings… in my car. Her screen is glowing, the phone peeking out from under the seat. I hang up and reach down to pick it up.
Every sound around me stills.
All the blood rushes from my face.
My mouth goes dry.
My hand shakes as I hold her phone in my hand. It’s locked, but her notifications are lighting up her screen like the fourth of July.
I swallow hard and close my eyes, praying that when I open them again what I’m looking at won’t be what I think it is. Only it is. Tweet after tweet directed at @BoReRenBlog. As I try to read one, another one comes in and then another. These are tweets to her from other people. I may not be the smartest when it comes to Twitter, but I know what the notifications mean.
Everything I thought I knew about Daisy is a lie.
Everything that I hate about this blog, every complaint that I’ve made has all been for nothing because she’s the f*cking blogger.
I slam my hand against my steering wheel repeatedly and bite the inside of my cheek hard. I will not cry over this dumb bitch. Pushing my shoulder against the car door, I step out into the rain. The weather is f*cking perfect for my mood and I can only hope it continues to rain so I don’t have to leave my house tomorrow, because I plan to get f*cking wasted tonight.
“Ethan,” she calls my name out over the rain. I turn slowly to see the girl who I professed my love to standing a few feet away, soaking wet. I look down at my hand, her phone still there and the notifications still coming in.