“From what I know,” Mom continued, “once upon a time Paul and Rose were friends the way Viv and Toff are now. It’s sweet, when you think about it, everything coming full circle.” Mom cupped her teacup with both hands. “Honestly, I wish they’d married years ago, but Paul took his time, letting Rose get over her divorce.”
“I remember when that happened.” Five years ago, seventh grade. That’s when Rose’s mystery writing career took off. Viv always joked that her mom was killing her dad over and over again in her books.
“Rose really stepped up when Deanna died,” Mom said, “helping with birthday parties, Halloween costumes, that sort of thing. I think that’s why Toff and Viv are so close, all that time they spent together as kids.” Mom raised an eyebrow. “I always wondered if Viv and Toff would date.” Her smile turned mischievous again. “Guess I pegged that one wrong. Want to tell me what’s going on with you and Toff?”
“Nothing,” Amy said too quickly. Mom’s other eyebrow shot up. “I asked him to help me with the publisher contest. That’s all that’s going on with us.”
“How is he helping exactly? Does he like to read?”
“Um, no.” Amy squirmed in her seat. “But he knows how to compete. How to win.” He was great at pushing her outside her comfort zone, too, using his one-two punch of hard-ass coach mixed with flirting to motivate her.
Mom observed her intently, like a psychic trying to mind read. “So you asked Toff to help because he’s competitive? Is that the only reason? Or do you have an ulterior motive?”
“Mom!” Amy blushed furiously, but she’d deny this all day long if she had to.
“You made him a special Valentine when you were in fourth grade, honey. And fifth grade. Sixth, too.”
“Omigod, Mom! Do you keep a journal about every little thing I do?” How did she know about those anyway? Amy had hidden the valentines in her sock drawer, never daring to bring them to school.
“Maybe.” Mom grinned. “Also, who do you think put away your laundry until you started doing it?”
Amy covered her face with her hands.
Mom laughed. “Honey, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We all have crushes.”
Easy for her to say. Amy let her hands drop from her face and took a deep breath.
“Okay, fine. To answer your question, I don’t have an ulterior motive. I really am nervous about this contest. About the whole book world checking out my Instagram…checking out me.” And now it was happening on a scale she wasn’t sure she was ready for. “Anyway.” Amy brushed her hair behind her ears. “I’m not sure he can still do it, with the injury and all.”
Mom tilted her head, watching Amy like a cat watches a mouse. “You might be surprised. Toff seemed to be enjoying himself the other day. With you.”
Dad wandered into the kitchen at the exact wrong time, overhearing Mom.
“I was just thinking about the Cupcake Kid! I hope he’s doing okay.” Dad shot her a grin. “How about you and I make him some cupcakes? Since you and Viv are going to see him.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Mom said, winking at Dad.
Oh. My. God. Was her dad playing matchmaker? Were both of her parents? This was worse than Mrs. Bennet fluttering around the house when Charles Bingley and Mr. Darcy arrived at Netherfield Park, desperate to marry off her daughters.
“Grab your apron,” Dad ordered. “I know the perfect recipe.”
With a resigned sigh, Amy rose from her chair and took an apron from the hook. When her parents were united in a mission, they were unstoppable.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Hey! Took you long enough,” Viv said as soon as Amy entered the bookstore.
Viv was right. Amy had spent too long deciding what to wear, which was silly, since this was just a get-well visit to her coach…whom all of #bookstagram was shipping her with.
Toff still hadn’t texted her. She hoped it wasn’t because he was upset about being a hashtag or, worse, being part of a ship—with her as the other half.
Viv’s mom emerged from the mystery aisle, reading glasses perched on her nose, several pencils stuck in her messy bun, and cat slippers on her feet.
“Amy! Sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in forever. How are you?”
Amy grinned as Rose enveloped her in a hug. She loved Viv’s mom. Someday, if she was lucky enough to work in publishing, she hoped to work with quirky, talented authors like her.
“I’m great,” Amy said. “How are you?”
Rose shrugged, looking slightly harried. “A bit stressed. I’m on deadline for my publisher, but Toff’s accident had me so worried, I couldn’t write a word for two days.”
Viv sidled up next to her mom, giving her a sideways hug. “Flipper will be fine, Mom. He’s got a thick skull, and the rest of him will bounce back fast, since he’s in great shape.” Viv pointed at Amy. “Don’t tell him I said that or he’ll gloat.”
Amy nodded, her cheeks heating as she tried not to think about what great shape Toff was in. Viv slanted her a suspicious look, but Amy focused on Rose.
“We’re bringing him cupcakes, and, um, books.” Amy shrugged, not believing Toff would read a word.
“Oooh, cupcakes.” Rose’s dark eyes lit up. “Did your dad make them?”
“Yeah. I helped a little, but he was so into it, I mostly let him do his thing.” Amy’s chest pinched as she thought of her dad bouncing around the kitchen, singing along to the Chef movie soundtrack. He missed his job so much.
“He’ll find a new gig soon, sweetie,” Rose said, reading her mind. “Everyone in town loves his pastries. Not just in Shady Grove. He’s a legend up and down this part of the coast.”
Amy wasn’t sure about her dad’s “legend” status, but she hoped Rose was right about him finding work soon.
Viv shifted into bossy mode. “Go grab those books Toff refused to take earlier.”
Right. Amy scurried off, grabbed the books, then rejoined Viv and her mom.
“Let’s see what you picked,” Rose said. Reluctantly, Amy showed her the books, feeling bad she hadn’t selected any mysteries, but she had a good reason for her choices.
“Romances?” Rose looked doubtful, but then her expression softened. “I admire your passion for your genre, honey. It’s worth a try.” Rose smiled. “We’ll make a reader out of that boy eventually.” She squeezed Amy’s shoulder and gave Viv’s curls a gentle tweak. “Give Toff my love.”
…
Viv opened the box of cupcakes as Amy drove to Toff’s house. “These look awesome, and they smell great.” Viv inhaled deeply, then sat bolt upright. “Wait a minute. Does this have something to do with Toff texting me about your birthday party? The one he almost ruined by eating all your cupcakes?”
Amy wished Viv’s mom wasn’t a mystery author, because when Viv caught the whiff of a secret, she was like a dog hunting a buried bone.
Amy glanced at Viv, whose eyes were bright with speculation. She gripped the steering wheel tight. “He texted you about that?”
“Yeah. I wondered why he asked.”
Amy slanted Viv an apologetic look. “I was going to tell you—”
“Tell me what?”
“That Toff sort of, um, dropped by my house for lunch the other day.”
Viv’s dark-brown eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Since when does Toff just ‘drop by’ your house?”
“It wasn’t a big deal.” It was, but Viv didn’t need fuel for her fire. “He gave Brayden a lift home from the beach and I made him a sandwich. That’s when I asked him to be my coach.”
Viv shook her head. “I still can’t believe you asked Flipper.”
“I know, I know.” She slanted Viv a quick look. “But now that I’ve entered the contest, I really want to win. Toff knows how to.”
“True, but…” Viv frowned. “I just don’t want y
ou getting your heart broken.”
“That’s not going to happen.” Amy stiffened her spine. “There’s nothing going on with us.” No matter what HeartRacer tweeted, she and Toff would never be a real-life OTP.
“You sure about that? That photo of you two was—”
“I’m sure.” Amy pulled away from the stop sign. “Besides, you won’t have to worry about my imaginary heartbreak after today. I’m sure Toff’s going to want out of the coaching deal now that he’s laid up.”
Which stunk, because she really wanted his advice about being thrust into the social media spotlight.
“I don’t know. He’s pretty stubborn once he decides to do something.” Viv leaned back in her seat. “Not to mention, he’s going to eat up all the social media attention. Have you two texted about the OTP stuff yet?”
Amy shook her head.
“Huh. I’m surprised.” Viv shrugged, then tapped the lid of the cupcake box. “So is this because you teased him about ruining your birthday party?”
“My parents did the teasing. My mom told him the story, since he didn’t remember it. Then Dad called him the ‘Cupcake Kid.’ Toff was mortified.”
Viv snort-laughed. “I wish I’d seen that. I can’t believe he didn’t remember.”
“I can.” Amy sighed. “Anyway, that’s why my dad made him cupcakes, because he knows Toff likes them.”
“And because your dad’s awesome.”
Amy smiled. “That, too.”
They turned onto the road that dead-ended at Toff’s house. She’d been here a few times for parties with Viv—parties where she watched Toff from afar while girls and guys alike swarmed him, vying for his attention.
Amy steered her car down the gravel driveway and parked. The house was a small bungalow with a sun-faded exterior, the gardens a bit overgrown. Toff’s van was parked in the driveway, and an assortment of surfboards rested against the house, along with a couple of wet suits drying on a clothesline.
Viv pointed to a workshop behind the house that looked like a garden shed on steroids. “Have you ever been in Paul’s workshop?”
Amy shook her head.
“It’s cool. You wouldn’t believe how much cash people shell out for a custom board.” Viv opened the passenger door and climbed out. “Let’s go, girl. I want to see Toff’s face when you give him the books.”
“I’m sure he’ll be much happier with the cupcakes than the books.”
Laughing, they climbed the porch steps together.
“Yo, Flipper!” Viv yelled through the screen door.
“Door’s open!” Toff yelled back.
Amy hesitated in the entryway. She wanted to see him, but she was nervous. What if he really was mad? Viv had a point. He hadn’t texted her. She didn’t want him to feel obligated to keep coaching her if he didn’t feel up to it or wanted out.
She squared her shoulders, hoping to fake a little swagger, then walked into the living room, where Toff kicked back on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts, his hair bedhead messy. A video game played on the TV screen. Her gaze drifted to his bare stomach where a nasty bruise bloomed out from a bandage like a Rorschach inkblot.
Toff’s face lit up when he saw them. “Finally, someone other than my dad or the McNerd.” His gaze flicked to Amy, and his grin deepened. “Hi, Ames. How’s my favorite bookworm?”
“Hey!” Viv sputtered.
“Man, your buttons are easy to push, Wordworm.”
Favorite? Amy swallowed. “Um, I’m okay. Better than you.” She motioned to his bandage. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled hesitantly. “Brayden told me you were attacked by a shark.”
Toff’s eyes widened. “He did?”
Did his face go pale underneath his tan? She blinked. It must be the lighting.
“He’s a drama king.” Her smile came easier this time. “You know that.”
“Right,” Toff said, his easy smile returning to match hers. “He definitely is.”
Dallas joined them from the kitchen, pausing to kiss Viv on the cheek. “Tag, you’re it,” he said. “I need to run an errand for my mom, but I’ll be back later with pizza. Good luck. You’ll need it.”
“Extra pepperoni!” Toff hollered as Dallas left the room. The front door slammed shut, and he turned his full attention back to Amy, blasting her with a megawatt grin.
“I’ve been thinking…” He paused dramatically. “If we’re gonna be a ship, Ames, we need a name, like J-Rod. How do you feel about Tamed?”
A tingle crept up the back of Amy’s neck. Somewhere in the distance, she heard laughter. Was that Viv?
“What do you think?” Toff prompted, oblivious to her delusional bookworm panic attack. “You know, Tamed. ‘T’ for me plus ‘Ame’ for you, Ames.” His grin veered from teasing to dangerous. “Not that you could ever tame me for real.”
Amy’s brain shorted out. He wanted to name them, like they were a real couple? She was still trying to figure out how to respond to them being shipped. His amping this up wasn’t going to help. Plus, Tamed was a horrible ship name. There was alpha, and there was caveman. They weren’t going to cross that line.
“What’d I tell you?” Viv said, her voice cutting through Amy’s brain fog. “I knew he’d love the attention. Hashtag Giant Ego.”
Laughing, Toff returned his attention to the TV. “Hang on.” His thumbs manipulated the game controller, his sky-blue eyes focused on the screen.
Viv pointed to a chair across from the couch. “Sit,” she ordered Amy. Amy sat, struggling to find her composure, let alone any swagger. Viv set the cupcake box on the coffee table.
“What a big baby you are, Flipper,” Viv teased, “letting a little injury put you on the couch.” She winked at Amy, and Amy realized she was changing the subject away from ships for her sake. Amy sagged with relief. Viv was the best friend in the world.
Toff paused the video game and squinted at Viv. “Hilarious.” He levered himself into a sitting position, leaning his back against the worn cushions, his tanned, muscled legs stretched out in front of him. He pointed to his bandage. “You still gonna pick on me?”
“Don’t I always?” Viv flopped into the chair next to Amy.
“Whatever,” Toff said, turning back to his video game. “I need to kill this wolf.”
“You’re killing a wolf? For fun?” Amy asked, appalled. At least she’d found her voice.
He darted her a quick smirk. “It’s a game, Ames. No real animals were harmed in the making of this mindless entertainment. I need raw meat for health points so I don’t die.”
Amy stole another glance at the mottled black-and-blue bruises on Toff’s torso. She tried not to ogle the rest of him, which was all lean, sun-kissed muscle. What was it with him going shirtless all the time? She turned away from his distracting…Toff-ness.
He made a grunting noise, and when Amy snuck a peak, he was tugging a T-shirt over his head, his face contorted in pain. Should she help? But that would mean getting close and, um, touching him. His head popped through the T-shirt, and he met her gaze.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I know I’m gross or whatever.”
Gross? He was the farthest thing from gross she could imagine. His injury looked awful, yeah, but the rest of him, not so much.
“So gross,” Viv muttered.
Amy frowned at Viv. “He’s not gross. He can’t help how…how…you know.” Her hand fluttered in his direction. She blushed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. “How the injury looks.”
“Thanks.” Toff shot an I-win look at Viv, who rolled her eyes, then grinned at Amy. “Seriously. How about Tamed? I mean, Bonnie and Clyde is okay, but Tamed has more bite.”
Amy sucked in a breath. Time to get this over with.
“I don’t think so. I don’t wan
t to encourage the fake ship. Bonnie and Clyde is bad enough. The outtake photos were a great idea, though. They got me a lot of buzz and new followers on Instagram and Twitter.”
He chugged from a bottle of Gatorade. She was glad his mouth was temporarily occupied. She needed to talk fast while she had the chance.
“But I didn’t expect people to, um, ship us.” She bit her lip. “It’s weird.” And amazing and terrible. “Also, I understand if you can’t coach me anymore.”
To her surprise, he plunked down the Gatorade and shot her a coach glare. “You’re trying to fire me again? While I’m in pain? That’s a low blow, Bonnie.”
Startled, she sat up straight. “I just assumed that since you’re laid up, you wouldn’t want to—”
“You assumed wrong.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not bailing on you because of a stupid cut.”
Uh-oh. That was the most intimidating coach face she’d seen so far.
“I told you he was stubborn,” Viv said.
“It’s, um, more than a cut,” Amy said, giving her coach one last chance to escape. Or maybe she was trying to give herself an escape route.
Toff’s glare softened. “This isn’t because of the ship stuff, is it?” His lips quirked. “I mean, I totally see why it happened. I’m very shippable.”
“Ugh!” Viv exclaimed. “Can we change the subject before I puke?”
Toff tilted his chin toward Amy. “Only if Amy wants to stop talking about our ship.”
God, yes. “No more ship talk,” she said, relieved. She’d ask him about how to handle the social media attention later.
Viv jumped up. “I need a break from all the testosterone flying around. I’m getting a drink. You want anything?”
Toff and Amy shook their heads, and Viv disappeared into the kitchen.
“She’s been bossing me around since preschool,” Toff said with a sigh, resting his head back against the couch cushions.
“I know.” Amy took a breath. “Are you sure about coaching—”
“Like I said, I don’t quit. Just gimme a day or two of pain meds and I’ll be back to coaching you.”
The Bookworm Crush Page 14
