The Summer Girlfriend (Heart Beach, #1)(28)

“You can hook up to the Bluetooth if you want to play some music,” Jeremiah said.

“R and B okay?” she asked, and he nodded.

She connected her phone, and “Jaguar” by Victoria Monét started to play.

“Ooh yes, I love H.E.R.,” Jeremiah said, snapping his fingers to the beat.

Noelle’s eyeballs almost popped out of her head. “H.E.R.? What—”

“I’m joking,” he said, laughing. He laughed even harder when he glanced over and saw the incredulous look on Noelle’s face. “I know this is Victoria Monét. Amara listens to her.”

He started to sing along, and Noelle discovered Jeremiah’s first flaw. Well, his second flaw. His first flaw was that he didn’t mind telling his family a lie about being in a relationship. His second flaw was that he couldn’t sing. For some reason, she found this incredibly endearing.

“Don’t sit over there judging my singing,” he said, grinning at her. “Can you sing any better?”

Noelle cleared her throat and started to sing the song’s hook. Jeremiah used his free hand to cover his ear that faced her.

“Damn, girl.” He pretended to wince. “You might hurt somebody with that voice.”

Noelle snort-laughed, and Jeremiah smiled at her as he turned up the volume. They spent the rest of the drive singing poorly to each other. By the time they turned off the exit for Heart Beach an hour later, Noelle’s nerves had mostly evaporated. They drove over a bridge, and the water sparkled in the sun beneath them. Seagulls soared overhead.

“Do you care if I roll down my window?” she asked.

“Nah,” Jeremiah said. “Go ahead.”

She rolled down her window and inhaled the salty air. Something about the smell of the ocean instantly relaxed her. “I haven’t been to the beach in forever.”

“Welcome back,” Jeremiah said. He smiled at her, but something about his smile was a bit stilted, less carefree than when they’d sung together during the drive down. She wondered what that was about.

As they drove through Heart Beach, Noelle absorbed her surroundings like a sponge. The houses in Heart Beach were definitely nicer and larger than the ones in the beach towns she’d visited before. The front lawns were groomed and pristine. They drove by a country club where people played tennis or lounged by the pool. Kids biked down the sidewalk on beach cruisers, balancing ice cream cones in their hands. Other people were walking down side streets, dressed in bathing suits and cover-ups, clearly having just come from the beach.

Jeremiah made a left onto Hawthorne Street, and he slowed to a crawl as he pulled up in front of a gray house with white shutters. The house was three stories high, and a veranda wrapped around the perimeter. Rocking chairs were stationed on either side of the front door, and perfectly pruned bushes lined the front lawn. It was definitely a big house, but somehow remained picturesque and quaint. It looked like a beach house from a Hallmark movie.

People in black uniforms were carrying tables and umbrellas from a van parked across the street to the backyard. The driveway was packed with other cars. New cars, like Jeremiah’s. Noelle guessed they belonged to his family members.

“They’re setting up for Amara’s party tomorrow,” he explained as he cut the engine and stared up at the house.

“Home sweet home,” Noelle said. She inhaled deeply and placed her hand on the door handle, but Jeremiah didn’t move. He stared up at the house with furrowed brows, his mouth set in a tight line. He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. He didn’t crack a smile at her home sweet home joke. He probably hadn’t even heard her.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Slowly, he blinked and looked at her, almost like he just was remembering that she was there.

“Yeah,” he said, unlocking the doors. “Ready?”

She squared her shoulders and took one more deep breath.

“Ready,” she confirmed.

She was officially on the clock.





Chapter Seven




Two summers ago, the night before Pop died, Jeremiah had stumbled up the driveway of their Heart Beach home, tripping over his own feet and struggling to see straight because he was so drunk. Hours ago, Theo, an old friend from NYU whose family also had a home in Heart Beach, had met Jeremiah at the Sand Saloon, the main bar in town. They’d taken shot after shot before switching to beer, and eventually Jeremiah realized that it was almost three a.m. He was an adult and could do whatever he wanted, but out of respect for his mom and grandfather, he tried not to come home too late whenever he was at Heart Beach. A lot of the time, he failed at this endeavor.

He didn’t always get as drunk as he did that night. Sometimes he didn’t drink at all. Most nights, he was just out. Whether it was here in Heart Beach or back home in the city. He was still part of the same friend group from college, and the great thing about those friends was that they didn’t expect anything from him because they didn’t care. They didn’t care about how he fell short in comparison to Percy, who was ambitious and intelligent, or Amara, who was creative and individualistic. They didn’t care that Jeremiah stuck out like an inadequate sore thumb among his stellar siblings. When Jeremiah was out with those friends, he didn’t have to think about his shortcomings. They cared only that he knew how to have a good time.