by H, Caity
HELLO, HANDSOME
CAITY H
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters and events are purely works of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead is coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. For more information regarding permission, write to Caity H:
[email protected]
Hello, Handsome
Copyright © 2015 by Caitlan Honer. All rights reserved.
Cover photo copyright © 2015 All rights reserved.
Cover model: Gerald Richard Hoover
Cover design by Caitlan Honer
First printing in 2015.
To Natalie,
Thank you for all your help! I couldn’t have finished this book without you!
And now, a word from your author…
1. If you're just joining this party and have no clue what this book could possibly be about, please take a minute to go stand in front of a mirror and ask yourself what you've been doing with your life. Then go find a copy of Hello, Honeybee and read it.
2. If, however, you've been waiting eagerly for this second book to finally find its place in the world, wait no longer! The fact you're reading these words means you literally have a copy in your hands. The wait is over! Hurrah! Time to celebrate! Bake a cake! Hug your pet of choice! Tell that person you love them! Or not…you know, it’s whatever.
3. Lex wanted me to tell you that you're looking especially lovely today. Maybe you should read outside so more people can see you. Or go to a coffee shop.
4. Is that new perfume? Olivia wants to know where you got it.
Sinceriously, though, it is with deep respect and admiration that I say, from the bottom of my blackened writer’s heart – thank you for being you and believing in me. I hope that you enjoy Hello, Handsome.
Table of Contents
One: Backseat Conversations
Two: Cautionary Tales
Three: Beach Bum Dreams
Four: Party Knight
Five: New Beginnings
Six: Jock Meets Nerd
Seven: Perfectionist in Sweatpants
Eight: Root Beer and Rooftops
Nine: Red Shirts
Ten: A Failed Flirtationship
Eleven: #ShippingOliviex
Twelve: Dazed and Hazed
Thirteen: Cousins, of Course
Fourteen: Street Fair Prizes
Fifteen: Tough Love
Sixteen: Win Some, Lose Some
Seventeen: Digging Up the Past
Eighteen: Friendship Stitches
Nineteen: Shady Shoppers
Twenty: Missing the Moment
Twenty One: Preparing to Leap
Twenty Two: Spoilers
Epilogue
One: Backseat Conversations
It was tradition to take a trip to the beach on the last week of freedom before school started. Normally, I went with the soccer team, but so many of the guys I had been friends with had already taken off for college, and there was no way I’d limit myself to a trip with just Desmond.
Luckily for me, Honeybee had invited me to come with her to the beach. The downside was that she’d invited Desmond, along with Bethany and Ryan, too. I almost wished I’d slept in instead.
“Would you stop glaring?” Honeybee asked with a nudge to my shoulder.
I glanced sideways at her. The open windows allowed the wind to play with her hair easily. She pulled it into a pony tail, securing it with a band and then turning back to me with a grin.
I pulled my sunglasses off, instantly regretting that decision when I realized how bright it really was outside. “I’m not glaring, Bee. I’m just tired.” Maybe I had been glaring a little.
The hum of the car was constant, and as I breathed in deeply I could almost taste the salt air we were headed for. I’d miss living close to the beach. Bartlow University where I was going was almost three hours from the beach.
“Are we there yet?” I asked, leaning back as I looked up to the front where Ryan and Bethany had been flirting for what felt like forever. They didn’t make sense to me, especially since he’d dated Honeybee first. Wasn’t there some kind of girl code about dating exes? Guys had those kinds of codes.
“Stop being so impatient,” Bethany said, barely pausing in her conversation with Ryan.
It was weird being the odd man out in the group. Normally, I was the center of attention, but it seemed my new circle had better things to do than fawn over me. Desmond and Honeybee had been talking about his end of the summer party for a good twenty minutes.
“Obviously, it’ll be our graduating class and seniors only,” Desmond droned. His voice became more annoying the longer he talked.
“What are the odds that it’ll actually be just seniors?” Honeybee asked, a doe eyed smile on her face.
I had to stop myself from gagging. The two of them were practically attached at the hip since school had ended. It was nearly impossible to see her without seeing Desmond. I was beginning to wonder if there was something going on between the two of them, something I needed to put a stop to.
“Higher than you might expect,” Desmond replied, shooting a wink at her.
My eyes narrowed. He was winking at my Honeybee? He couldn’t wink at her. Being able to wink at Honeybee required years of friendship, not just a few months.
“There will be more freshman than seniors at that party,” I muttered, glaring at him over Honeybee’s head.
He glared back, undaunted, and raised an eyebrow. “And just who is going to invite the freshmen? No senior wants a bunch of innocent fourteen-year-olds at their party.”
I shrugged, resting my arm along the back of the seat. Honeybee’s ponytail tickled my arm. “You know how seniors are, they talk. I went to loads of senior parties when I was a freshman.”
Bethany faced us, eyebrow raised in what was probably disapproval. There were few things about me that she approved of as far as I could tell. “Ease dropping again? Creep.”
“It’s hardly my fault that all the senior girls loved me.” I flashed a grin. “What freshmen would ignore an invite like that?”
“Something to be proud of?” Ryan asked from the front of the car. He glanced back at us in the rear view mirror, his gaze shifting to Honeybee as they shared another one of their “good friend” looks.
It happened more and more often. They were always exchanging secret glances or talking quietly. Somehow, they had become closer after their breakup. Best friends, even.
I hated it.
We were supposed to be best friends, me and Honeybee. But I was the only one who didn’t get the secret glances and best friend moments.
“Felt like it back then,” I finally replied, running a hand through my hair. And in all seriousness, it had. Being invited to a senior party by hot girls had been a huge deal. “But we all grow up, don’t we?”
“Some more than others,” Honeybee commented, patting my arm.
“Hey, be nice,” Desmond said, “the poor guy has been through a lot. He’s still working off that gift you gave him.”
I grimaced, thinking of the blue dye that was still in my hair. It was much lighter now. My own mother had accused me of going gray early.
“Shut up, Des,” I muttered. “Until it started fading, girls hit on me practically everywhere I went. Now they think I’m an old guy who’s had a lot of plastic surgery. But cougars are into me.” Just the other day a woman, who looked like she was in her thirties, hit on me at the coffee shop. Her number was scribbled on a napkin in my room somewhere.
“Maybe Olivia should redo y
our hair, then,” Bethany added with a smirk.
Turning to my favorite neighbor, I dropped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. The smell of her hair hit me, and I pulled her tighter against my side. “What do you say, Bee? Do you want to dye my hair again?”
She grimaced, pulling away from me. “I don’t want to help you get ladies. That’s weird.”
“I need a wingman…lady.” She raised an eyebrow, and I sighed. “Come on, Bee. This is what best friends do, they help each other out,” I told her, and judging by the way she just rolled her eyes she had no passion to help me get a date.
“Fine,” I relented, “don’t help me get women. But I won’t help you get guys, either.”
“She’s got guys,” Desmond laughed, picking her hand up.
First he winked at her, now he was holding her hand? If I didn’t know better I would’ve assumed that they were dating.
I reached over and separated their hands, ignoring the way my blood seemed to boil at the sight. “Good guys, Des. Good guys.” She was too good for most of the guys I knew, too good and too naïve. As her best friend, I was supposed to protect her.
“I am a good guy,” he retorted, doing nothing to quell the vibe I was getting from the two of them.
“Not good enough.” I shot him a grin, glancing at Honeybee. She smiled, but rolled her eyes.
A frown replaced my grin in a matter of seconds when I saw the way she leaned into him. Maybe my gut instinct was onto something. But, she would tell me if she started dating, right?
“Then who is?” Desmond asked, sneering in my direction.
At his question all eyes seemed to turn to me simultaneously, all except Honeybee’s. She seemed suddenly interested in her fingernails and the way they were picking at the hem of her tank top.
“Well?” Ryan said, raising his eyebrows.
Why were they all so interested? Backseat conversations weren’t supposed to concern the front seat people. The only reason I brought it up was because Desmond thought he was good enough for Honeybee, and he wasn’t.
“I don’t keep a list of potential boyfriends for the girls I know.” I wasn’t a creep.
Ryan smirked, and the conversation dropped as we pulled into a parking lot.
The familiar sight of sand and waves filled my view. The sunlight glinted against the ocean, and I took a deep breath. There was no telling when I’d get to come back to the beach and just breathe in the smell of it. I was going to make today count.
Soon we were all out of the car and headed down to the surf. Getting up early had definitely been worth it.
Two: Cautionary Tales
By the time we got home everyone was tired, and most of us were a little redder than we had been when we’d left hours earlier. They were lucky, though. I had to go to soccer practice soon.
For the past three years I had done volunteer work over the summers. Helping out at the camps looked good on a college application. Mom had suggested it, and since I wanted to go to a good school on scholarships, it meant making myself look like an angel on paper.
Honeybee’s mom was in the living room and smiled as we came in. “How was the beach?” she asked, tilting the phone in her hand away from her mouth.
“It was good,” Honeybee said, pausing in the entry way as the rest of us moved past her.
I took the cooler into the kitchen and started to put the leftovers away. Ryan and Bethany came with more. Desmond appeared to have stopped in the entry way with Honeybee. He was buddy-buddy with her mom, too? I was supposed to be her favorite.
When everything was put away, I followed the new couple out of the kitchen and into the living room. A quick glance at my watch told me I needed to get going.
The idea of running and playing soccer made my knees weak. The kids hated doing anything when it was hot outside, and it was exactly that. Not that I blamed them, I hated it, too. After school practice had been the worst near the end of the school year. The summer temperatures made running torture. I would have to be creative with how I did things tonight.
“I gotta get going,” I said, interrupting their conversations. “Thanks for letting me tag along to the beach.” I nodded at Bethany, knowing she was the one who’d set it up. She smiled back.
“Got a hot date?” Desmond asked with a smirk.
It would’ve been creepy to say yes, as I was going to a child’s soccer camp and the only women were mom’s dropping their kids off. But the smug look on his face made me want to say it anyways.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I gave a general wave before heading out. I grabbed my stuff from beside the door and walked over to my house.
Mom and Dad were home, sitting at the dinner table talking. I started up the steps to my room, but Dad’s voice rang out before I could reach the safety of my room.
Sighing, I paused on the steps.
Dad walked over to me, dabbing a napkin at his lips.
“Yes?” I asked, pointedly glancing at my watch. Hopefully, he’d get the idea that I had somewhere to be. Of course, considering how many times I’d had somewhere to be in order to get out of conversations with him, he might’ve ignored my hints even if he noticed them.
“Where have you been?” he asked, crumpling the napkin in his hands and crossing his arms over his chest. “You’ve been gone all day.”
Letting out a long sigh, I waved my hand toward the kitchen. “Mom didn’t tell you? I was at the beach with friends.” I resisted the urge to groan when he just raised an eyebrow. Lying so often about where I was during high school didn’t give them much reason to trust me now.
“You mean Olivia?” he clarified, and I nodded. “How was that?”
“Fine,” I mumbled with a shrug of my shoulders. “What’s it to you?”
“You’re my son, Lex. I’m allowed to ask how your day was.” He never seemed to care about my day unless it involved a certain neighbor with blond hair and blue eyes. Sometimes I got the distinct impression that he cared more about her than he did about me.
“I have to get ready for soccer.” I gave a salute and jogged up the stairs to grab my soccer stuff. Dad muttered something I couldn’t understand as I walked away and toward my bedroom. He was always disappointed in me. Maybe I should’ve told him to adopt Honeybee. She’d probably make him proud.
***
Twenty minutes later I was back at my high school, which happened to be where the camps took place since no one was using the fields.
I walked over, watching the little kids practicing on their own. They were all dressed up in the league colors, bright orange and green. I was pretty sure that the leaders had chosen those colors because it would be easier to spot them, especially if one of the kids happened to find themselves running out in the middle of the street.
The age group was seven to twelve. I worked with the younger ages mostly. They were cute kids, especially when they all ran at once to show me something they’d learned or had been practicing since they’d seen me the day before.
A few of the little girls raced over as I walked onto the field, large smiles on their face and bright pink soccer balls in their hands. They were inseparable, the kind of friends that did everything together. They reminded me of Honeybee and me. We’d played softball together when we were younger and wore matching shirts and caps. We’d been so proud of ourselves.
“Lex, look how far I can kick the ball!” One of the little girls said, dropping her ball on the ground in front of her. I waited for her to kick it, wincing when she missed and fell to the ground. A blush covered her cheeks.
I knelt down next to her. “Don’t worry, kid. When I was starting out, I did the exact same thing.”
Her eyes went wide as saucers. “Really?”
“Really,” I murmured, giving her a hand up. “Practice makes perfect. We can try again later, okay?”
She grabbed her ball and nodded, light back in her eyes. The girls took my hands in theirs and pulled me after them.
We started
practice when my whole group had arrived. I always felt official when I had a whistle and a clipboard. I’d never imagined I would like coaching a group of little kids, but soccer camps were some of my favorite memories.
It didn’t take long after practice started for them to complain about how hot it was. Of course, when I opened my water bottle and dumped the contents on them they instantly perked up, deciding they had to get me back. By the end of the practice not a single person in my group was still dry.
Hopefully, their parents didn’t hate me too much for having a water fight with their kids instead of teaching them how to play soccer. But I couldn’t control the weather, and we had practiced for a while before they decided it was too hot to move. At that point what was I supposed to do? All twelve of them had simultaneously collapsed to the ground. I was pretty sure they’d planned it out beforehand.
We all met by the front of the school when practice was over to wait for parents. I was dripping wet as I led my group over. The kids were laughing and still throwing water at me. A blast of freezing cold water hit my back, making me jolt and come to a sudden stop. How did they even have water that cold still?
One of the dads saw me and smirked. “Looks like practice got a little wild.” One of my players raced over to him, her braids dripping as she ran. He knelt down in front of her, laughing as she gave him the biggest hug she could manage. “Did you have fun, Jenny?” She nodded her head, turning back to smile up at me.
“She’s a firecracker,” I said, looking at her dad. He didn’t look to be too much older than me, yet he had a seven year old. It was weird that people so close in age to me had already lived so much more than I had.
“She gets it from her mom,” he answered. “Redheads, ya know what I mean?”
“That I do,” I answered, having known my fair share.
Glancing around I noticed most of my team had left with their parents, all except two little girls. Abby and Megan. I walked over to the two girls and squatted down in front of them. “When are your parents coming to pick you guys up?” I asked.
