Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  London continued digging in her purse. "That's pretty impressive. How long does it take to become a dentist?"

  "Eight years."

  "Eight?" she asked, finally looking up from her purse with wide eyes. "That's forever. How'd you even do that? Are you old enough to have had eight years of school."

  "I started some of my undergraduate stuff a little early," I said. "Since I was homeschooled."

  "Oh, yeah," she said, as if the word homeschool was just another reminder of how weird and sheltered I was. "Are you moving to Kenya when you're done?"

  I could tell she was proud of herself for knowing where my parents' school was. She smiled as if she had done a good deed simply by remembering.

  "No. Not full time at least. I'll visit regularly, but I told my parents years ago that I wasn't cut out for fulltime missionary life. I'm much better suited for living here and making routine trips."

  "What about your parents?" she asked. "Ooh, there's one of mine," she added, pointing to the lipstick-red piece of luggage making it's way toward us. I stooped to pick it up and set it near my feet before scanning the rest of the belt for anything bright red. I didn't see anything right away.

  "What about them?" I asked, referring to her vague question about my parents.

  "Are they just planning staying in Kenya for the rest of their lives?"

  "Probably so," I said. "They make trips back to the states to see me and for fundraising or whatever, but they're pretty wrapped up in the projects they have going on. They have three locations now. It's really grown into something more massive than they ever expected. That's one of the main reasons I chose dentistry. I plan on going back at least twice a year for dental clinics. So many people need procedures, and have no access to that."

  "What about your brother?" she asked. "Don't you have a brother?"

  I nodded. "He's still in Kenya with my parents for now, but he talks about coming to the states."

  "What's his name?"

  "Cub."

  "That's a crazy name," she said.

  "It's a nickname."

  "What's it short for?"

  "It's not short for anything."

  "What's his real name?"

  "William. But no one ever uses it. I had to think about it just now when you asked."

  She smiled and stared off into space as if imagining something. "I remember him," she said, nodding as her smile grew. "He was cute, wasn't he?"

  I shrugged. "Hard to say since he's my bother."

  She laughed and pushed at my shoulder. "Aw, come on. If I had a brother I'd totally know if he was hot or not. He's fine and you know it."

  "If you say so," I said, shrugging.

  "Are you gonna live in L.A. when you graduate?" she asked.

  "I'm planning on it since the rest of my family lives here—aunts, and uncles, and stuff. I have a job set up at an upscale pediatric practice. I'll work there a few times a week with the main goal to support my free clinics in the city and trips to Kenya."

  She nodded distractedly as if she didn't hear a word I said, and then pointed to another bright red piece of luggage.

  I bent to pick it up as it came past. I groaned with the effort. This one was definitely heavier than the last. London was standing right on top of me when I straightened, and I flinched and stared at her wondering what she was doing.

  "I think that's Ryan Seacrest over there," she whispered frantically. She flashed me her teeth. "Do I have anything?" she asked.

  "Any what?"

  "Anything between my teeth—or lipstick on them or anything. Do I look good?"

  "You look great," I said. "Nothing's on your teeth."

  She smiled as she used her tongue to wipe them, just in case.

  "Oh my gosh, I can't believe I've only been here five minutes and I'm already seeing Ryan Seacrest!" She watched as the guy in question walked past without stopping at baggage claim.

  "Is this one yours?" I asked, pointing at another bright red bag coming down the line.

  She glanced at it just long enough to nod before looking at Ryan Seacrest's back. She let out a wistful sigh. "I love Los Angeles already," she said. "I might just have to move here."

  I coughed to keep myself from making some other disapproving noise. I thought it was a little peculiar that she was star struck over Ryan Seacrest when her boyfriend was some huge movie star, but I obviously didn't mention it. I didn't really care. I knew, based on first impressions, that she hadn't changed a bit, I could see it in the way she looked at me. It was like she pitied me for being me, which was funny because I sort of felt the same way about her. My plan was to smile and be as friendly and forgiving as possible. I knew my mom needed her dad, so the least I could do was be cordial for the next ten days. What was ten days in the grand scheme of things, anyway?

  London's flight had arrived late that afternoon, so by the time we unpacked her things, straightened out some business with the car, and got some dinner, it was just about time for me to turn in. I told her I had some notes to look over before my clinicals the following day, which was not only the truth, but also a convenient excuse to head to my room early. London was so obsessed with trying to contact her boyfriend that she didn't even really hear what I was saying when I told her I was going to bed.

  I opened my laptop and composed an email to my mother.

  Greetings from California. Just your favorite daughter checking in to remind you I'm a rockstar for agreeing to host this lovely houseguest. I'll survive, but it'll be hard. She has already tried to talk me into receiving a Botox treatment while she was here. I asked her why she thought I needed it, and she pinched my forehead and told me those lines were only getting deeper. "It's preventative," she said. "Everyone should start getting it at 25." She also gave me a big speech about watching my carbs and what types of clothes would be "more becoming" on me. She has decided that my car isn't good enough for her to be seen in, so her father has rented us a Mercedes convertible. She says I'm to drive it since I know my way around. I assume that makes me her chauffeur, which is not so bad, since it's a super nice car. I didn't even know it was possible to rent a car like that. Tell Cub he'd be jealous. You were right about her boyfriend. He's a mega movie star. Even I recognize his name. The only problem is that London can't seem to reach him. She's tried all afternoon. Makes me wonder if she knows him at all. She is a piece of work. She asks questions and then doesn't pay attention to my answers. She is much prettier and taller than I remember, but her personality is exactly the same. Please pray for me.

  Your faithful daughter,

  Rachel

  I deleted it without pressing send.

  My mom would find the humor in it, but she didn't need the weight of worrying about my problems. And it wasn't really a problem anyway—not compared to most of the world's issues. It felt good simply to type out my gripes and then erase them, which was exactly what I did.

  Chapter 2

  We were now four days into London's trip. Forty percent over—only a little over half to go, and honestly, it hadn't been all that bad. I'd been busy with school and wasn't even home during the day. She was so obsessed with contacting her boyfriend that she hardly noticed me anyway. I just went about my business.

  It was late Friday afternoon, and there was a note on the table when I came into my apartment after clinicals. It was from London saying that she was spending the day with her boyfriend and that she didn't know what time she'd be back.

  I smiled thinking about eating some carbs without her sitting there judging me. Pizza? Thai food? The possibilities were endless. I should call it in soon before she gets back.

  I was exhausted from a long week at school, and by 7PM, I had on my pajamas. I was sitting on the couch eating a big box of noodle-y Pad Thai without a care in the world when London came back. She twirled around my living room like a little trendy-looking tornado. She was on cloud nine, or cloud thirty-seven—somewhere way out there in the stratosphere. I couldn't help but smile at how uninhibite
d she was. It was somewhat cute… in a sad sort of way. She danced and giggled like a kid at Christmas. She didn't even notice my Thai food nor did she notice my old pajamas. I decided I quite liked the effect Logan Ritchie had on London. She wiggled and jiggled and kept saying things like, "That was crazy," and "I can't believe it," so much that when she finally started telling me the story, I didn't think it quite lived up to the hype.

  "He had like five people staying at his house," she said, still beaming. "That's why he's been so busy." She breathed deeply several times. She was completely out of breath as she relayed the story, and I didn't know if it was from nerves or from having danced around.

  "Does he always have so many?" I asked as she caught her breath. I didn't really care; I was just trying to be nice.

  "He usually just has a couple," she said. "His cousin, Cody, just got married and he brought his wife over here to see Hollywood. She'd never even been on a plane until a few weeks ago when they went on their honeymoon. I met them in Myrtle Beach the same weekend that I met Logan. They're really sweet. His sister, Charlotte, is also staying with him. You know, as company for Cody's wife while they're in town. They're leaving tomorrow, though. I don't know if Charlotte will stay, but Cody and Paige are headed back to Charlotte where they're from. They were only here for a few days. You should have seen the paparazzi following us today. It was crazy! We went out to eat lunch, and they were going nuts trying to get a photo of us. Logan's working this weekend. Until Monday, actually. He's starting a new movie, and they're filming a scene in Santa Barbra. He was saying—"

  I held up a hand and stopped her in mid-sentence. "London, you have to slow down. You are talking like you had about twenty cups of coffee. I'm trying my best to follow what you're saying, but I was pretty much lost way back there when you were talking about his cousins. I think you mentioned someone named Charlotte, or the town Charlotte, or both. I also heard something about his cousin never flying on an airplane before, but that's about it."

  London let out a long sigh as if trying to encourage herself to slowdown. "Basically, what I'm saying is that Logan's leaving tomorrow to spend the weekend in Santa Barbara. It's only an hour and a half away, but he's gonna spend two nights there so he doesn't have to commute."

  She was super-excitable, and I still wasn't sure why. I smiled and nodded, but London was speaking so quickly that I could hardly understand her, and none of it really pertained to me anyway.

  "He wants me to go over there with him!" she said. Her eyes looked as if they might bulge right out of her head. "He's staying in his trailer, but I'm just gonna get a hotel." She paused and stared at me. "And by I, I mean we." She bit her lip and gave me puppy dog eyes.

  "Did you just say you wanted me to leave town with you?"

  She nodded expectantly.

  "For three days?"

  "Just two nights. Saturday and Sunday. Couldn't you just skip school on Monday? Just one day while I'm here? It's all I ask!" She batted her eyes at me, and leaned against me like we were the best of friends. "Pleeease go with me!" she begged. "I really need you!"

  "Why?" I asked, feeling genuinely confused.

  "Because Logan said I should bring you. He said he'd be busy most of the day, and that I should bring my friend to keep me company. I knew you wouldn’t want to do it, so I asked his sister, but she had other plans. You're my only hope!"

  I tried to imagine what it would be like staying in a hotel room with London. Could I do it? "Just because he recommended you bring me doesn't mean you have to," I said. "Can't you just say I had work to do for school and you decided to come alone?"

  "I don't want to do that," she said. "I sort of told him I was mostly here to see you and not him—you know, to make him a little jealous or whatever. So he sort of thinks I wouldn't want to go without having you with me."

  "I thought you just said you asked his sister about going," I said.

  "That has nothing to do with it," she said, looking at me like I was crazy.

  I just sat there, trying to understand what she was saying. I wasn't well versed in relationship games, but apparently she was. I wondered, and not for the first time, if they were dating at all. I had already planned on taking Monday off. It was the easiest day for me to rearrange, and I figured I should show at least a little effort to hang out with her before she had to leave. "I already thought about taking Monday off," I said. "I thought we could have lunch with the guy I'm sort of seeing, and then I'd take you to a few shops."

  "It would seriously mean everything to me if you decided to come to Santa Barbara instead," she said.

  It was obvious that she was completely desperate for me to agree.

  "Okay," I said.

  Her face lit up. "Really? Are you serious?"

  I nodded. "I'll take Monday off, but we need to get back at a reasonable hour. I need to be there early on Tuesday."

  "Whatever you need," she said. "Oh, my gosh, I love you Rachel! Thank you so, so, so, so, so, much! You're awesome. We're gonna get you some good clothes to wear while we're there."

  I cocked my head at her.

  "I'm totally kidding!" she said. "I love your clothes. Your clothes are fine." She squealed. "I've got to pack! I'm so excited! You should be excited, too. Who knows who we're gonna get to meet!"

  I smiled. "I can't wait," I said. It was partially true. I wasn't completely immune to the charms of pop culture, and to be honest, I was looking forward to seeing the process of filming a movie. I knew it'd be interesting to see how the whole thing worked. I assumed we'd be allowed to see some of it. Maybe not, maybe she'd drag me over there, and it would be a closed set, forcing us to hang out in the hotel room for most of the day while I talked her out of feeling desperate about not seeing Logan more. After a brief reminder to myself to think positive, I decided to assume the best.

  We left Saturday morning at 10, and got to our hotel just before noon. I halfway expected London to ask me to split the room with her, and I was prepared to do so, but she didn't. She just handed the clerk her father's credit card without even looking at the price.

  She was a mini-bar user, too. Within minutes of walking in the door, she opened a bottled water and three granola bars. She only took one tiny bite off each one before deciding she didn't like any of them, and throwing them all away. I knew it must cost an arm and a leg for those items in a place like this, and I did my best not to judge her for being wasteful. After growing up in Kenya with those kids my parents rescued, I had a hard time watching anyone throw away money.

  But really, who was I to judge, right? Her dad had been extremely generous with my parents over the years. Besides, it wasn't my place to worry about what other people did with their money. I made a conscious effort not to let it bug me. As conservative as I thought I was, there were bound to be people in the world who would consider me wasteful. My mom would say, "Don't point your finger, because you've got three pointing back at you." I smiled, thinking about my mother.

  London and I were staying in a one-bedroom suite, so she moved her things into the bedroom while I got situated near the couch.

  "I've been in there texting Logan," she announced about thirty minutes later when she came back into the living area.

  She was beaming.

  I'd been reading an email from one of my professors, so I was thrown off by her enthusiasm. "Don’t act so excited," she said, looking annoyed.

  I smiled. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking about something else when you came in. Did you say you've been talking to Logan?"

  "Yes."

  She gave me a wide-eyed serious expression. I knew she was expecting me to react a certain way, but I wasn't exactly sure what that way was.

  I smiled and shook my fists slightly. "Yayyy!" I said, hoping for the best.

  She rolled her eyes and groaned. "I can't believe you don't even care about any of this. You're gonna get to see a scene from a movie being filmed. Not a made for TV movie, but a real, silver-screen movie. You can't be in it or anything
. I was asking Logan if I could be an extra or whatever, but he said they already had people doing that. Apparently, there's gonna be a lot of people involved since it's a bar scene. He said we had to stay out of the way, and I told him we'd be totally invisible. They're shooting some inside the bar this afternoon, but they have to wait till the sun goes down to film the part where the scene moves outside." She paused and looked me over before adding, "What are you gonna wear?"

  I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing skinny jeans, a pair of light pink, low-top Chuck Taylors and an off-the-shoulder sweater I picked up at a consignment shop. It was pretty much my favorite outfit. In other words, I had already considered what I was wearing, and this was it. This was my I put some thought into what I'm wearing outfit.

  "I figured I'd wear this," I said. "What are you wearing?"

  "I have a dress if you want to try it on."

  I sucked air through the cracks in my clinched teeth, making a sound of reluctance. "I'm not really a dress kind of girl. Thanks anyway."

  She squinted at me. "What do you mean? What do you wear to church?"

  "Jeans." I shrugged. "I mean, I guess I have a few skirts or whatever, but usually I just try to wear jeans if I can help it." I gestured at her phone. "Did he say there's a dress code or something?"

  She let out a frustrated sigh. "No, he didn't say there's a dress code. It's just respectful to clean yourself up. It's nice manners to dress well."

  I looked down at my clothes. "I like this outfit. It's one of my favorites." I smelled my armpit. "And I smell good. I just took a shower this morning. In my book, I am cleaned up."

  She threw her hands up. "Do whatever you want," she said. "Just don't blame me if I get to be an extra and you don't."

  "I promise I won't blame you for that," I said, stifling a smile. "You can go be an extra all day long. I'll cheer for you from the sidelines."

  "Please don't cheer, Rachel," she said in all seriousness. "Logan specifically said we need to be quiet and try to stay out of the way."