Our Secret Summer(25)

“You’re right. Too strange. Better you do it with the DJ tonight.”

“Simone.”

“Or actually… Cristiano might be up for it as well.”

Now I’m the one with the blushing cheeks, and there’s no way to hide my reaction with her standing in front of the mirror. At least I can play it off. “How hot is this DJ?”

It’s a silly question. It doesn’t matter. He could be a young Brad Pitt and still I just know he’d pale in comparison to Cristiano. That thought alone makes me panic with the realization that just like Annika and Simone, I’m starting to have a crush of my own. How can I deny it when it feels like a physical ache? A tightness in my stomach that won’t go away?

Winnie is somewhere smiling deviously.

I slip into my high heels and do one more makeup check before we head for the main floor. The hallway is crowded more so than usual, and I understand why, once I see that Ramón and another security guard are leading Boréal toward his private room backstage where he can prepare for his set.

Simone’s right. He’s cute, but in a tortured rock star kind of way. He’s tall and blond, but his face is a little gaunt and pale. I bet the poor guy could probably use a full night’s sleep.

Everyone is staring at him with excitement. Two guys even step up to ask for a selfie. Obviously they know who he is, but I’m totally lost. My plan is to just hover against the wall out of the way until the crowd clears, but while Boréal is walking past us, Simone takes it upon herself to not-so-accidentally shove me into his path.

Her timing is impeccable. I flail with a sitcom-worthy “Whoa!” He deftly catches me in his arms, and for that split second, we’re starring in a perfectly choreographed meet-cute. He’s staring down at me with a bemused smile. My hands are flat against his chest. We’re in a lover’s embrace with our chests pressed together and our mouths an inch apart.

Immediately I try to extricate myself from him as Simone starts apologizing. “Oh, bollocks. I’m sorry. These silly heels are so high! Are you all right, Elle?”

I try to step away from Boréal, but he keeps a gentle hold on my right arm. “You are fine?” he asks with a thick French accent. He’s smiling at me, clearly curious.

I smile tightly back at him, hyperaware of the scene we’ve caused and the number of curious gazes we’ve drawn. “Yes. Totally fine. Sorry!”

His attention lingers on my face for a beat longer than necessary, and then he moves on and the crowd disperses. Simone is smiling from ear to ear when I shoot her a glare. She doesn’t even have the decency to feign remorse.

“Proud of yourself?”

“God, yes. I just secured your future, babes! Bet he proposes by the end of the night. I might as well start planning your hen do.”

“My what?”

“Your bachelorette party,” Annika supplies for her, rushing to catch up to us. “Good work, Simone.”

They try to high-five, but I cut in front of Annika and wave my hands to break it up. “No! Don’t high-five her for that! I could have hurt myself.”

“Hurt yourself by falling into the sculpted arms of a famous DJ?” Simone snorts with laughter. “Not likely. Annika, did you see the way he looked down at her?”

“Just like how Cristiano looked at her the other night, don’t you think?”

“You two need a hobby,” I tell them point-blank before walking away.

They rush after me.

“Have one, actually,” Simone responds. “It’s called looking fit and fab.”

I hear Annika snicker, and I flip them the bird over my shoulder.

I’m about to make it to the top of the stairs when Simone calls out. “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. You need Boréal, remember? For your bucket list? It specifically said you had to fall in love with a man who’s smoking hot. Blokes like that are rare!”

“What bucket list?” Annika asks, trying to keep up with the turn in conversation.

“Oh… it’s nothing,” Simone says in a rush. “Shite. Forget I said anything.” She catches up to me and takes my hand, squeezing it tight. “Really, I didn’t mean to bring it up like that. I forgot Annika didn’t know about it.”

I shrug. “I don’t care, tell her. She’ll find out anyway if she’s going to help me accomplish everything on it.”

I actually prefer it this way. I don’t have it in me to explain Winnie to someone again so soon after telling Simone, and I want Annika to know about her. I was going to get around to sharing, but it’s not exactly a topic you can bring up any ol’ time of day. Do you have a second while you’re eating your morning cereal to hear about the saddest thing that’s ever happened to me?

Simone tugs my hand so I’ll turn and look at her. She doesn’t trust that I’m being honest. I know she feels bad about blabbing because I see the remorse written all over her face.

“I mean it,” I whisper. “Tell her.”

Fifteen minutes later, while I’m getting my first group of the night a round of waters, Annika walks right up to me with glassy eyes and a wobbly bottom lip. Oh god. Simone definitely told her. She holds her arms out wide and tells me to bring it in.

When I don’t immediately fall into her embrace, she forces me into it.