The Replacement Crush

by Lisa Brown Roberts

  McNerdy was fair game for anyone.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I feel bad for snapping at him.” I dropped the leftover cookies into a plastic bag one by one, determined to prolong my absence from the store. I wondered how long I could stall before Mom came to drag me out by my hair to work with Dallas.

  Amy squirted dish soap into the glasses and started washing them. “Well, I kind of see why you snapped.” She hip-bumped me. “You were embarrassed, right? His timing was the worst.”

  We laughed together as I reached for a dishtowel.

  “He really is adorable,” Amy said, shooting me a sideways glance. “And sweet.”

  I took a breath before speaking. “It’s okay, Amy. If you like him. I don’t mind.” Liar, liar pants on fire.

  Amy turned to face me, her hands still in the soapy sink water. “But I don’t. Like him, I mean.” She blew a loose hair off her cheek. “Okay, I like him, but not like that. Not that he isn’t totally lust-worthy. It’s just…I’m sort of interested in someone else.”

  Relief flooded through me. “Yeah? I thought maybe—”

  She pointed a soapy finger at my chest, grinning. “You were worried I was going to move in on your territory. Don’t worry. He’s all yours.”

  My face flamed. “But he’s not my territory. At all.” I grimaced, drying a glass so hard it squeaked under the towel.

  Amy handed me a dripping glass and smirked. “Denial isn’t pretty on you.”

  ...

  Dallas spent the rest of the afternoon huddled over the store computer, transferring data from the index cards into the software program he’d somehow whipped up in a week. And probably trying to purge the awful images of me dancing from his memory.

  Mom busied herself with customers while I worked in a secluded corner of the store, sorting through books we’d recently acquired from an estate sale. Once in awhile Mom shot a concerned glance at Dallas, then me. I knew she’d picked up on the tension between us. I tried to relax, worried that she would jump to embarrassing conclusions. I should apologize to him, but I wanted to do it when no one else was around, which was impossible on a busy Saturday.

  Six o’clock finally arrived and Mom locked the door, flipping the open sign to closed. She turned to us, wiping her hands on her jeans. “Whew. What a day.”

  Dallas glanced up, then leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. I stared at him, watching his muscles practically ripple.

  “Is it always this busy on Saturdays?” he asked, twisting and turning in the chair, his shirt straining at the seams. I swallowed and tried, unsuccessfully, to look elsewhere.

  Mom busied herself picking up the stray books customers had left scattered on tables. “Sometimes. Depends on what else is going on in town.”

  Dallas stood up and started stretching his legs behind the desk. Oh dear God. I turned away before he could catch me watching him.

  Mom’s laughter floated across the store. “You sore from sitting all afternoon, Dallas? Believe me, I can relate; it’s the writer’s curse. One of them, anyway.”

  He stood up and hugged a knee to his chest, balancing on one leg. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, even at school we have a break between seated torture sessions.”

  Mom and I both laughed, but he kept his eyes on Mom, not me. He switched legs, hugging his other knee to his chest and balancing on the opposite leg.

  “What are you, the karate kid?” I asked irritably.

  He finally looked at me, his posture ramrod straight as he remained balanced on one leg. He was far enough away that I couldn’t read his eyes, but he definitely wasn’t smiling.

  “Maybe,” he said, releasing his knee and raising his arms high over his head. He rose up on his toes and flexed his other foot, just like the dorky guy in the old eighties Karate Kid movie.

  Mom chuckled, and I felt her watching me, silently willing me to be civil to Dallas.

  “Hey, Mom. Remember Paul’s coming for dinner, right? And Toff. Don’t you need to get ready?”

  Her face froze in shock. “Oh my gosh. I completely forgot. What can I feed them?” She shot me a panicked look. I should’ve reminded her earlier, but I’d forgotten, too, distracted by the book club.

  Dallas dropped his pose and leaned against the wall.

  “Just fire up the grill.” I felt guilty as I watched Mom frantically dig through her sweater pocket like it was Hermione’s bottomless purse, full of groceries that would magically appear and save the day. “I can bike to the store and grab some grillables.”

  Mom bit her lip. “Okay, I guess that works. I’ve got salad makings, and wine,” she muttered more to herself than me.

  “I should go,” Dallas said, pushing off the wall. “You have things to do and I—”

  Mom stopped muttering to examine Dallas. “I have a better idea. Why don’t you join us? It’s the least I can do after making you slave all afternoon at the computer.” She gave him her most persuasive smile.

  He darted a wary glance at me. “Um, I’m not sure…”

  Mom shot me a warning look. What did she think I’d do, anyway, un-invite him? My racing heart and sweaty palms wanted the same thing she did even though my Vulcan brain was not pleased.

  “Do you need to eat with your family?” Mom asked. “Or maybe you have a date. I understand if you have other plans.”

  Dallas’s neck reddened slightly. “I, um, don’t have other plans, but I don’t want to horn in on yours.”

  “Pfft.” Mom waved her hand dismissively. “It’s not horning in at all. This gives you a chance to get to know some other locals.” Mom pinned me with her eyes. “Right, Vivvy?”

  “Vivian,” I muttered under my breath. Why was it so hard for her to stop using my little kid name? “Right,” I said in a louder voice, returning her gaze. “I should run to the store.” I turned to Dallas, willing my hormones to stop their party-girl chattering. “Are you a vegetarian? Vegan?”

  His eyes blinked rapidly behind his glasses. “What? No, definitely not.”

  I smirked. “I didn’t think so. Do they even have those in Wisconsin?”

  “One,” he said, “but we keep her locked in a cage as a traveling exhibit.”

  I laughed, relieved to glimpse a smile from him before he turned away to text someone. His mom…I hoped.

  ...

  As I waited in line at the market, I wondered what had possessed Mom to invite Dallas to dinner. Manners, probably. Normally I’d support the gesture, but things with Dallas were definitely not normal.

  What if Toff and Dallas hated each other? What if I accidentally insulted Dallas again in front of everyone? And what should I wear? And most importantly, why did I care what I wore?

  As I rode home, Spock’s disapproving visage rose up to lecture me.

  “Vivian Galdi, it appears you’ve lost sight of your mission. You’re about to join two young men for dinner, one of whom sends your zing meter into an unacceptably high range.” Spock lowered his imaginary eyebrows in disapproval. “I’m concerned about your apparent lack of control, Vivian. When humans make rash decisions, the consequences can be…disturbing.”

  “But it’s my mom’s fault!” I exclaimed. A passing jogger shot me a baffled glance. I was losing it, talking out loud to imaginary spaceship science officers.

  Pedaling home, I did yoga breathing. This was not a big deal. It was just a barbecue with some guys from school. Right?

  When I walked in the house, Mom looked up from the salad bowl where she was tearing lettuce. “You weren’t wearing your helmet.”

  Dallas, standing next to my mom, paused his carrot chopping. He glanced at my mom, then me.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I forgot.”

  Mom shook her head, clicking her tongue. “Vivian, I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to remember a basic safety rule.”

  Embarrassed, I turned away, but not before I caught Dallas’s sympathetic shrug and crooked smile like he was telling me his mom was overprotective, too.
<
br />   As I was about to escape to change clothes, Hiddles arched his back and hissed. Paul and Toff climbed the deck stairs, laughing together. They paused before opening the sliding glass door that opened into our kitchen. Toff’s grin deepened when he saw me, and he struck a bicep-curling pose. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help returning his smile.

  I braced myself for Paul’s bear hug, which was surprisingly strong. Or maybe not so surprising since he was in awesome shape for an old guy, probably because of all the surfing and surfboard shaping he did at his shop. As he trapped me in a hug, I inhaled the scent of ocean and herbal tea while the kitchen filled with the cacophony of introductions and laughter.

  “Vespa dude!” Toff exclaimed, shaking Dallas’s hand. “I saw that sweet ride at school. I’m Toff, by the way.”

  “Vespa?” Paul’s face lit up as he joined the guys at the counter where they talked excitedly about engines and horsepower.

  Dallas didn’t even notice when Mom pulled the cutting board and veggies out of his reach and resumed the carrot chopping. His animated Vespa talk made me smile, but then I reminded myself of my Spock lecture, and focused on gathering plates and silverware.

  ...

  The sun dipped low over the water and I shivered against the dropping temperature. Mom and Paul sat in deck chairs, sipping wine. Toff, Dallas, and I brought the dirty plates into the kitchen.

  “So you should meet me early one morning,” Toff said to Dallas. “I’ll show you some basics, make sure you don’t do any kook stuff.”

  “Kook stuff?” Dallas asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Rookie mistakes,” Toff clarified. “Stuff that’ll piss off the line-up.”

  “Line-up?” Dallas raised his other eyebrow.

  “The regulars waiting to take off,” I clarified. “Some of the locals are sort of hardcore. They act like they own the waves.”

  “Totally not aloha,” Toff said. “Which is why you should learn from my dad and me, so we can take you to the right places. You can’t live here and not surf.”

  I shut off the water and stopped rinsing plates. “Yeah he can. I don’t surf.”

  Toff shot me a grin, then rolled his eyes at Dallas. “Viv’s afraid of sharks.”

  Dallas’s eyes widened. “There are sharks? For real?”

  Toff shrugged. “Hardly ever. No one’s been attacked for a few years. So anyway, let me know when you want to learn, dude.” Toff laughed suggestively. “Plus all the hottest chicks surf.”

  Dallas, whose face had paled at the mention of sharks, glanced at me, color quickly returning to his face.

  Toff tilted his chin at me, eyes dancing with mischief. “Okay, maybe not all the hottest chicks surf. But most of them do.”

  I threw a towel at Toff. “You’re a pig, Toff.”

  He caught the towel and threw it back. “You’re breaking my heart, Viv.”

  I snorted. “Yeah, right.”

  “Viv’s picky,” Toff said to Dallas. “I think it’s those stupid books she reads.” He glanced at Dallas. “You said you’re working in the bookstore, right?”

  Dallas nodded, relaxing against the counter. His lips curved slightly. “Helping them join the twentieth century.”

  Toff looked confused. “You mean the twenty-first, dude.”

  “Never mind,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Dallas, whose eyes danced with laughter behind his glasses.

  “Computers,” Dallas said. “I’m setting up a system to track inventory and sales.”

  “Oh, wow,” Toff said. “So you’re a brainiac, too, huh?” He shot me a glance I couldn’t decipher. “So wait,” he said to Dallas. “Does that mean you have to touch all those books with the couples practically humping on the covers?”

  Before I could open my mouth to argue, Toff was at my side. He pulled me into his arms and dipped me low. “How’s this for a cover pose? Take me, baby, take me now. Let me show you my love snake.” He leered at me while I shoved at his chest, laughing and Dallas watched us, smirking.

  “Knock it off, Toff.” I pushed my hands against his chest. Heat rushed to my cheeks as he tilted me upright again, then spun us into a dance pose and glanced over his shoulder at Dallas. “First they danced, then they—”

  “Shut up!” I yelled, laughing but still embarrassed.

  Dallas’s eyes flickered behind his glasses. His smirk was starting to irritate me, or something. It was definitely doing something that made me feel like I had a fever.

  Toff finally released me and I stepped away, trying not to reward him with laughter. He was such a pain in the butt, like the brother I’d never had who lived to embarrass me.

  “So you guys want to head down to the beach? Bonfire, beer, all that good stuff.” Toff glanced out the window to the deck where Paul and Mom sat talking. “Should be starting to kick off.”

  Dallas and I looked at each other. My heart rate sped up, and I bit the inside of my lip. I should not, would not go anywhere with him. Especially not the beach. After dark. To a bonfire. That would only lead to heartbreak, as I knew from experience.

  “Come on,” Toff said, playfully punching Dallas on the shoulder. “You can meet some other people.” He shot me a look. “Some other girls besides Wordworm here.” Toff chuckled. “You can come, too, Viv. No sharks tonight.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Only the human ones.”

  Dallas’s deep laughter made my stomach flip-flop.

  “No thanks,” I said, trying to act as if the last thing I wanted to do was spend time with them. “You guys go without me. Go check out the hot girls.” I shot Toff a look and he put up his hands.

  “Hey, I didn’t say you weren’t hot. I just said that surfer chicks are the hottest.” His eyes danced with laughter. “But if there was like, a hot bookworm contest, you’d totally win. Or at least place.”

  “Go.” I pointed to the door. “Both of you. Now.”

  Toff laughed and pushed himself off the counter. “Put away the claws, Viv. I’m just messing with you. You know you’re my dream girl.” He shot Dallas a conspiratorial grin. “Nightmare, I mean. Totally the girl in my scariest dreams.”

  Dallas laughed, which, unfortunately, had the same result as feeding a trained monkey. Toff jumped around the kitchen pretending to be terrified of me, hiding behind Dallas, and begging to be saved from his worst nightmare.

  “Out, Flipper. Now.” My face was on fire, and I needed them to be gone. I also needed to kill Toff, but that would have to wait.

  Dallas hesitated at the door. “You want any help finishing the cleanup? I can—”

  “Go,” I said, tilting my head toward the door. “Go do guy stuff and talk about engines and hot surfer girls or whatever.”

  I snuck a peek at his face and wished I hadn’t.

  Because instead of looking as if he wanted to stay, he looked relieved that I’d told him to go.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HUNKALICIOUSHEROES.COM

  Romance Reviews for Ravenous Readers

  SHOOTING STARS by Wendy McCuthbert

  Rating: *Go-go boots (with rhinestones)

  Reviewed by: Sweet Feet

  Author Wendy McCuthbert does it again with her latest crossover sci-fi romance, Shooting Stars. She turns the genre on its head, giving us a shy, anxious hero and a kick-ass, smart-ass heroine who saves him over and over again. And it works. When Alexa’s not fighting off the uber gross aliens chasing her renegade ship, she’s wooing Micah by playing the latvel (kind of like a cello, which earned bonus points from me).

  Even if you think you’re not into beta heroes, give this one a try. Yeah, Micah starts out a total SNAG (sensitive new age guy) but by the end of the book, he’s kicking some ass and keeping up with Alexa. Plus his kisses will make you sweat.

  Just put on your prom shoes and read it. Trust me.

  *Rating Scale:

  ◆ Birks - lots of emotion and navel-gazing

  ◆ Wing Tips - bossy but irresistible heroes

  ◆ Crocs - Funny heroes,
imperfect heroines (yay reality!)

  ◆ Vans – testy heroes full of smarcasm.

  ◆ Go-go boots - my highest rating: perfection.

  “See? We are getting to know each other.”

  —Captain Kirk

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Sunday, August 31

  Sunday dawned foggy and chilly, which fit my mood. I’d stayed up late posting my blog review, started book one in a new paranormal series, then dreamt about the villain who in my dream looked a lot like Jake but also morphed into Spock.

  Mom invited me to join her and Paul for brunch, but I declined. Three hours, four biscotti, and an entire pot of coffee later, my homework was finished and my hormones were comatose. Maybe pre-calc was the simple cure to my crush problem.

  After showering and getting dressed, I checked my phone. My screen filled up with text notifications. Jaz had texted me not long after Toff and Dallas left, asking why I wasn’t at the party. Then about an hour after that, she’d texted me that McNerdy seemed to be attracting interest from several girls. At which point I’d put my phone in do-not-disturb mode.

  Most of the texts were updates on who was hooking up, photos of people posing and hamming it up, and a few blurry photos of Dallas sitting with a girl who was unrecognizable in the dark. Jaz had sent those with slurred notes like “Yur winnow is clsng,” which I assumed meant, “Your window is closing.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered, willing myself to mean it. Dallas could do whatever he wanted.

  Toff had Snapchatted me a goofy selfie that made me laugh. That was his superpower, making people laugh so hard they’d forget how much he’d pissed them off.

  ...

  Sunday was Mom’s day to run away. She sometimes spent the day with Paul or disappeared to write. She paid me double to run the store on Sundays, so I didn’t have any complaints.

  Before I opened the store, I popped into the Jumping Bean for a mocha and a slice of their amazing lemon pound cake. As I was paying for my purchase, I heard a mocking voice behind me.