“Damn. That sucks.” He hated how helpless he felt. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight? We don’t have to. We can go to a movie or the pier. Whatever you want.”
“I want to go to dinner.”
He glanced over. “You sure?”
Amy blew out a breath and smiled. “Yes. I want to end today the way it started—happy.”
…
Amy stared out the window as they drove up the coast. Her feelings for Toff were all over the place—still crushing on him, unsure of where they stood, starting to realize she might want more than a laid-back guy like Toff would be willing to give. It didn’t help that she’d seen him only once since the engagement party on Friday.
When she saw him at the beach while picking up Brayden, she’d been so caught off guard when he kissed her that she’d awkwardly pulled away sooner than usual.
Other than that, he hadn’t texted or Snapped her. Their #BonnieandClyde OTP was still going strong, especially because of the interview. Toff had liked some of the comments that made fun of him, posting laughing emojis, but he ignored all the questions asking if they were in an actual relationship.
Amy glanced at Toff, who was being unusually quiet, and sighed. She’d replayed his apology over and over in her mind. He’d said he was “up in his head” and had to “sort stuff out.” What did that mean? She wished he’d open up to her.
Was he sorting out how he felt about her? About them? Were they back to coaching only, or did he want more? And what did she want?
She’d spent a lot of time thinking about that.
She hoped they could talk about this tonight. He’d opened up some at the pier and then again that night under the stars, but she worried those had been exceptions to his no-sharing-feelings rule. Never to happen again. She’d like to know where they stood, because she had other worries on her mind, too, like her family and the news from HeartRacer she couldn’t wait to share with him.
Toff pulled off the road, turning into a small parking lot. The restaurant was fancier than she’d expected. A large deck covered in glittering lights overlooked the water.
“Wow,” Amy said, impressed.
“I hope you like it.” Toff looked anxious. He took her hand as they approached the restaurant. Her heart did a little flip, but she told it to simmer down.
Once inside, they were led to a cozy table in the far corner of the outside deck, half hidden by a huge plant. Had Toff arranged this? She glanced at the gift bag in his hand. He’d gone all out tonight. Maybe he had sorted out his feelings, and maybe, just maybe, he’d planned to spill them tonight.
As Toff sat across from her, she drank him in. Suntanned and smiling, blue eyes sparkling, he made her heart skip a beat. Confused or not, she was going to enjoy this. Enjoy him. Them. Turn around what had become a crappy day and focus on all the awesome that had happened, including some uninterrupted time with Toff.
“Do I get my present now or later?” she teased.
He lifted an eyebrow. “That’s like eating dessert before dinner.”
“Since when do you follow that rule?”
“Since now.” He shoved the gift bag into the corner of the booth, and she laughed.
“I’m not going to jump over the table and steal it.”
“You might, Bonnie. Let’s not forget how we first met.” He grinned, looking more relaxed as they joked. “Someone was running from the cops, and it wasn’t me.”
“We met in elementary school, Clyde.” He might have forgotten who his second-grade reading buddy was, but she hadn’t.
“Welcome to The Reef.”
Their waiter arrived to take their drink orders and told them about the chef’s special. Amy had a hard time concentrating because Toff started playing footsie under the table, looking at her like she was the chef’s special, stirring up all sorts of conflicting emotions.
“I’ll be back shortly with your drinks,” the waiter said.
“Take your time,” Toff said. “We’re not in a hurry. It’s a special night.”
“Of course, sir.” The waiter dipped his head and glided away.
“Smooth. Did you see that in a movie?” Amy teased.
He leaned back against the booth. “Read it in a book some girl recommended.”
“Oh yeah? Which one?”
“The only one I’ve read.”
Amy laughed; then her phone buzzed. She frowned when she saw Brayden’s name on the screen.
Brayden: When will you be home?
Her stomach twisted.
Are Mom and Dad still arguing? she texted back.
Brayden: No.
Amy: Good. I’ll be home later. I’m out with your idol.
Brayden sent a frowny-face emoji as his reply.
Toff’s forehead pinched. “Everything okay?”
“It’s just Brayden. I think he’s bummed out about earlier and bored. He’ll probably be waiting outside when we get back, hoping for a chance to see you.” She couldn’t think about that now, though. She had fun news. Nerve-racking news. “So…I have something to tell you.”
“Yeah? Hit me with it.” Toff stretched his arm across the booth. Amy wished she were next to him.
She leaned forward, a rush of excitement buzzing in her veins. “I’m not just meeting Lucinda—I get to interview her at the Sunset Bookstore! In front of a ton of people.”
“Wow.” Toff’s eyes lit up. “That’s awesome. You can nerd out with her.” He hesitated. “Are you nervous about the interview?”
Amy nodded. “Yeah, but not like I would’ve been at the beginning of the challenge.” She smiled. “So thanks, Coach. All that swagger stuff worked.”
It was true. She’d already started making a list of questions for Lucinda.
“I’m glad.” He fidgeted with the bread basket, not looking at her. Amy was surprised he wasn’t acting cocky, taking all the credit. “When’s the interview?”
“Friday in LA.”
“The day before the Spectacular? Cool.”
Amy frowned. “I didn’t think you were cleared to compete yet.”
“I’m not.” He shrugged. His follow-up appointment was on Friday. “We’ll see. If she clears me to surf, I might just go for it, even though I haven’t been practicing.”
“Have you talked to your dad about that?” She hoped so. She’d hate to see him reinjure himself.
“I already know his opinion.” Toff grimaced. “And my coach’s.”
“But if you’re not ready—”
“C’mon, Ames.” His expression darkened. “Not you, too.”
She gaped at him. “What do you want me to say? Go out there and hurt yourself?”
“Have we had time to decide on dinner?”
Amy frowned at the waiter who’d reappeared out of nowhere. Weren’t waiters supposed to know when to stay away?
“We have not,” Amy said, glancing at Toff, who was scowling at his glass of water. “Give us another five minutes. Please.”
“Very good, miss.” The waiter turned away, but Amy caught his condescending smirk.
She turned back to Toff. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. I’m just worried, same as your dad. But if you do compete, I hope you win.” She hesitated, then decided to go for it. “Then we can have another celebration dinner. My treat?”
Toff shifted restlessly, looking everywhere but at her. “Yeah, maybe.”
Amy’s stomach twisted. Clearly the competition was a sore spot. Was that what he meant by having to “sort stuff out” and not her? But he’d shut down after their night together, so it couldn’t be that. Ugh. She hated how little he was giving her. If he wasn’t going to say anything, she was going to ask.
“Toff.” She waited until he stopped fidgeting and looked her in the eye. “Will you please tell me what’s going on?”
She sighed in frustration, chiding herself once again for not falling for a beta boy who liked to talk or a romantic who’d make hundreds of origami flowers as an apology, like in one of her favorite YA romances.
“I mean,” she said, calling on the swagger that was becoming easier and easier to find, “what’s going on with us?”
…
Toff tried not to panic.
Us, us, us…
The word bounced around in his brain like double red flags warning surfers and swimmers to stay out of the water. There was no way he could answer Amy, not when he was still trying to figure out the answer for himself. He needed to be around her like he needed air, wanted to make her smile and laugh more than almost anything, but putting a label on those emotions was harder than he’d expected.
So he hadn’t.
He forced a lopsided grin, hoping Amy couldn’t read his face. “Nothing’s going on. We’re Bonnie and Clyde, the OTP everyone’s shipping, and we’re here to celebrate.” He looked around. “Can we order now? I need to eat so my growling stomach doesn’t scare everyone.”
He spotted the waiter, who glided toward them like a penguin on ice skates. A mean penguin, like the chinstraps. Those little dudes were assholes.
“Toff…” Amy’s eyes searched his. He squirmed, unsure how to react to all the emotion he saw there. All the feelings.
“Are we ready, sir?” the waiter asked.
We weren’t, but Toff wasn’t giving this guy any ammo. “You go first, Amy.”
She frowned at him, then handed her menu to the waiter. “I’ll have the grilled shrimp, please.”
“Excellent choice.”
The penguin took Amy’s menu and raised his eyebrows expectantly at Toff. Was that a lip curl or was Toff hallucinating? Just because Toff was a teenager didn’t mean he didn’t know how to tip well. If this guy didn’t drop the attitude, he’d end up with zilch.
“Sir?” the waiter prompted.
“The chef’s special,” Toff said. “The chicken one.”
“Coq au vin?”
“Oui,” said Toff, drawing out the word sarcastically. The waiter flared his nostrils, took Toff’s menu, and left.
“I don’t like that guy,” Toff grumbled.
“Just ignore him.” Amy sighed. “Look, forget I asked that question. We don’t have to talk about it.”
She looked sad. Upset. He hated that, but he’d take her up on her offer and ignore the question he wasn’t ready to answer.
Amy tugged at her hair, and a sparkly butterfly clip fell to the table. He watched her re-clip it into that crazy red hair he loved. He didn’t know why he liked her sparkles so much, but he did. He hoped she liked the ones he’d bought for her.
His gaze drifted from her hair to her glossy lips down to her neck. Maybe they should forget about dinner and go to his van. Go back in time to that night at his hideout. Only this time he wouldn’t screw it up by ghosting her afterward.
Amy’s phone buzzed again. “Sorry.” She flashed an apologetic smile. “I’d better check.”
“No worries. I’ll be right back.”
Toff slid out of the booth. He needed to regroup. Calm his nerves. Snarky Waiter cocked a questioning eyebrow when Toff brushed past him on his way to the entrance, but Toff ignored him.
Once outside, he sat on a bench underneath a palm tree and closed his eyes, Amy’s question echoing in his mind. As freaked out as labeling their…relationship…was making him, Amy deserved an answer. He’d never wanted to be part of an official “us” before, but he also couldn’t imagine not having her around, not having all their teasing, laughing. Kissing.
And more.
Was that what it would be like if they were official?
“Nichols! I thought that was you.”
Damn. He knew that voice. Toff opened his eyes slowly, not thrilled to see one of his biggest surfing rivals looming over him. Mack was a bad-ass short boarder from San Francisco. They’d gone head-to-head in a lot of comps, often vying for first and second place in their categories.
“Hey, Mack. What are you doing here?” There weren’t any comps this weekend.
Mack smiled like the Big Bad Wolf stumbling upon Little Red Riding Hood. He looked like a wolf, too, with sharp teeth and bristly hair.
“On my way south to get some runs in at Lowers.” He glanced toward the front door, where a couple of other guys waited impatiently.
Toff nodded. Everyone loved to surf the Trestles. Mack had enough cash to eat dinner here the same way most people chose In-N-Out Burger. His family was loaded.
Mack gestured to Toff. “You’re all dressed up. Grandma’s birthday party?”
Bastard. Mack’d never let him forget the time he had to change into a suit and tie after a comp. His grandparents had flown in three summers ago to watch Toff compete and to celebrate Gram’s seventieth birthday with Toff and his dad.
Toff stood up so he could stare this guy down, which was easy, since he had a good four inches on him.
“Not Grandma’s dinner.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Come on, Mack!” one of the guys by the entrance yelled. “We’re hungry!”
Mack gave the guy the stop-sign hand signal, narrowing his gaze at Toff. “You on a date with that reader chick? I saw some of that Bonnie and Clyde crap on Twitter.” He smirked. “She must be something to tie you down. Can’t wait to meet her.”
Shit. Could this night get any worse?
…
“Brayden, please stop texting,” Amy whispered into her phone.
“I’m hungry,” Brayden grumbled. “Are you at the hot dog shack? You guys should have brought me with you.”
Amy sighed into the phone. “We aren’t at the hot dog shack. Toff took me somewhere nice.”
Where was Toff anyway? She scanned the restaurant, but he was nowhere in sight.
“Bring Toff inside when you get home. I want to show him something.”
Amy rolled her eyes. Toff’s blond hair caught her eye, and she exhaled a sigh of relief. “I need to go, Bray. I’m putting my phone on DND.”
“Wha—”
Amy shoved her phone in her purse as Toff approached the table with some guy she didn’t recognize. Toff didn’t look happy.
“Amy, this is Mack, a surfer I know from up north.” Toff stood next to her side of the booth, crossing his arms over his chest and widening his stance like he was her bodyguard. What the heck?
“So this is her?” Mack sneer-smiled just like Draco Malfoy did to Ron Weasley. “The girl who lassoed the biggest player in—”
“Shut it, Mack.” Toff adjusted his stance to block her from Mack’s view, his hands curling into fists. “You can leave now.”
Amy tilted her head to peek around Toff. Mack scoped her up and down, his expression twisting like he found her…lacking. What a jerk.
“You’re not at all what I expected,” he said. “You’re so—”
“Leave,” Toff snarled. “Now.”
Mack raised his hands innocently. “Chill, dude. I just wanted to say hi.”
Unfortunately, they were attracting attention from the other diners.
“Never thought I’d see this.” Mack aimed a smug grin at Toff. “You’re a tub of Cool Whipped. Should be easy for me to beat your ass at the Spectacular.”
She didn’t know who this Mack guy was, but he needed to shut up and leave.
A burly man in a suit approached their table, his face a mask of cool authority. “Is there a problem, gentlemen?”
“No, sir.” Mack stepped back, giving Toff a mock bow. “Just wanted this dude’s autograph. I guess he’s a big-deal surfer around here, but he doesn�
��t have time for the riffraff.”
Suit Guy’s appraising gaze shifted between Toff and Mack, who stared each other down. Toff’s hands bunched into fists. Amy groaned. Stupid boys and their stupid…measuring sticks.
“Is that true?” Suit Guy asked Toff. “We don’t tolerate paparazzi or overzealous fans interrupting diners, but we don’t want you taking things into your own hands.”
Amy heaved a sigh. Time for her to pull off a get-out-of-trouble save for her coach. She put her hand on Toff’s arm, moving him aside so she could stand up. Their waiter appeared behind Suit Guy, hovering in the aisle with their dinners.
Amy pivoted to face Suit Guy. “Yes, he’s a very big deal,” she said sweetly. “If you watch the Summer Spectacular next weekend, you’ll see him smoke everyone.” She waved a dismissive hand at Mack. “Including this poser, I bet.”
Adrenaline lit up her nerve endings as she grinned at Toff, who blinked like he’d just emerged from a dark cave. “Let’s eat, babe,” she added. She snaked her arm around his waist. “Don’t let this loser get under your skin.” She fired a glare at Mack that would singe off his hair, if only she had superpowers. Mack shot her a glare, but he back-stepped away.
“My apologies, Mr.…?” said Suit Guy.
“Nichols,” Amy supplied, since Toff was still in daze. “Toff Nichols. He’ll be as big as Kelly Slater someday. Just you watch.”
Suit Guy cracked a barely perceptible smile, motioned for their waiter to serve them, then headed toward Mack’s table.
Amy sat, tugging Toff down next to her. Yeah, her feelings for him were all tangled up, but her swagger and her swoony heart had won out. This time.
“Will there be anything else?” asked the waiter. He didn’t look so superior now.
Amy smiled. “Not now. Check back later, please.” The waiter nodded and glided away. She leaned into Toff. “Dig in, Clyde.”
…
The waiter dropped off the leather bill holder, and Toff counted out enough cash to leave the guy a generous tip. He didn’t want to add to his bad karma. He’d barely touched his own dinner, losing his appetite after the scene with Mack.
Amy had tried to pull him out of his funk, joking about Bonnie and Clyde and pretending to case the restaurant like a bank, but he hadn’t played along. Eventually she’d given up, finishing her dinner in silence.
The Bookworm Crush Page 29