I had to get out of there. “Look, I’ll call you later, okay?”
Desi’s face crumpled. “Come on, don’t leave.” She glanced at the guys. “They’ll be gone in a few minutes. They’re going to some zombie movie.”
As if on cue, Trey walked over. “See ya later, baby,” he said, leaning over the counter to kiss Desi.
I stared at the floor while the guys made catcalls.
They all said various obnoxious versions of good-bye as they moved away from us like a giant amoeba of testosterone.
Except for Slade, who separated himself from the amoeba and walked right up to me. I swore I could hear my pulse thumping in my ears.
“What’s the plan for tomorrow?” His topaz eyes held my gaze.
“Uh,” I stammered, then took a breath. “Butterflies.” As I said the word, they came to life in my stomach.
He frowned. “Butterflies?”
I cleared my throat. “Yeah. The Butterfly Pavilion. Gillian loves it there.” Or at least I assumed she would. Who wouldn’t love butterflies?
A tiny smile quirked his lips. “And you said you weren’t a risk taker.”
“Are you mocking me?”
His smile vanished as he shook his head, looking worried. “No. I’d never do that.” He tugged at his stupid hair tie. “So do you want to drive up there together? It’s a long way. We should take one car.”
I bit my lip. He was right. The Pavilion was practically in Boulder.
“How about if Max-man and I pick you and Gilly up around ten thirty tomorrow?”
I nodded, still searching for words. I pictured us in the pool again. Me flailing around the shallow end, Slade looming over me like the buff lifeguard he was.
“Come on, Edmunds!” a loud voice boomed from the mall. “Stop scamming chicks and let’s go.”
Was he blushing? Probably. He wouldn’t want his friends thinking he was hitting on Bird Brain.
“See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder, practically running out the door.
“See you.” But by the time I got the words out, he was gone.
This stupid infatuation had to stop. I was Trina Clemons, future valedictorian of Sky Ridge High. I had plans.
Plans that didn’t involve any detours with slacker party boys who wore shoelaces in their hair.
Chapter Eighteen
Trina
Wednesday, June 12
Gillian’s scream almost shattered my eardrums, along with everyone else’s inside the Butterfly Pavilion. Hands flailing in her hair, she barreled down the winding path, crashing into people as she ran.
Unlike me, Slade jumped into action, shoving Max toward me then chasing after Gillian. Max tugged on my hand. Tears welled in his soft brown eyes, moistening his lashes.
“Why is Gilly screaming? Did the butterflies bite her?” His lip trembled.
I knelt down and wrapped my arms around him. “Of course not, sweetie. Butterflies don’t bite.”
He blinked away the tears. “But why did she run away?”
I sighed. I had no idea. Who was scared of butterflies, anyway?
“Let’s go find her.” A few people gave us weird looks as we hurried up the path. Guilt by association with the rampaging redhead.
Outside of the gift shop, Slade and Gillian sat on a bench together. Gillian leaned against Slade, crying her heart out. His arm wrapped around her tiny body and he bent toward her, whispering.
And here I’d been so certain that he’d be the slacker nanny and I’d be the superstar.
As Max ran toward Gilly the realization hit me that Slade was better at this than I was. He never flinched when things didn’t go according to plan, whereas I froze, or worse, flipped out.
If parents needed a sitter for a dinner date, I was perfect. But for an entire day full of unexpected detours and random freak-outs? Apparently, Slade was the go-to guy for that.
He glanced up and smiled at me. I saw a kaleidoscope of emotions when I looked in his eyes—reassurance, amusement….and something else.
My heart skipped a beat, causing me to literally stop in my tracks.
No. This could not be happening. I would not get sucked in by those unbelievable tiger eyes and that sexy mouth and that messy hair and the way he floated through life, charming everyone and—
“Trina?”
I stared at them, feeling like I’d wandered onto a movie set where I didn’t belong, waiting for a director to jump out and yell “Cut!” then usher me off the set.
“Trina, are you okay?” Slade looked concerned now, his dimple tucked safely away and a slight frown wrinkling his brow.
Gillian sniffed loudly. “Are you scared of butterflies, too?” She wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I hate the way they fly in my face and hair.”
“I—um, no. I’m not scared. Just…maybe need some fresh air.”
Gillian slid off of Slade’s lap. “Me, too! Let’s go outside.” Suddenly she looked worried. “But not to the garden. No more butterflies. Let’s go to the parking lot.”
Max’s face crumpled. “I like the butterflies.”
Slade stood up. “Tell you what. Max and I will stay here and check out more butterflies. You girls go outside and inhale exhaust fumes until you feel better.” He winked at me, which did nothing to calm my nerves.
Outside, I tried to convince Gillian to check out the towering praying mantis sculpture, but she freaked out when a butterfly floated by. So we sat on the bench close to the pavement, inhaling exhaust fumes just like Slade had joked.
The drive back to Denver seemed interminable, especially once the kids fell asleep in the backseat and we didn’t have their nonstop chatter as a distraction.
Slade glanced in the rearview mirror and smiled. “Those two are a trip.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, careful not to meet his gaze when he looked at me. Maybe I could manage to survive the rest of the summer if I never made eye contact with him again.
“I never would’ve guessed Gilly would be the one to lose it today.” He laughed softly.
I shifted in my seat, trying to ignore how my stomach flipped over when he laughed. “You thought Max would lose it?”
He shrugged. “Max is a mystery man. I thought he might not like the up close and personal view, but he did.”
It was true; Max had loved the butterflies until he’d seen the exhibits of the dead ones pinned under glass. Then we’d had to deal with his tears, while Gillian declared that dead butterflies were sort of pretty, since they weren’t flying in her face.
“I bet they won’t let us back in there again.”
“Nah. I’m sure she’s not the first kid to freak out.”
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the kids were still asleep. They looked so angelic when they weren’t spazzing out. Too bad I couldn’t be the night shift nanny, watching them while they slept.
“So, I guess it’s my turn to plan for Friday,” Slade said, downshifting as we caught up to a slow-moving line of traffic on the highway.
I bit my fingernail, wishing I was home, safe in my bedroom, where I could process the betrayal of my body and emotions, which had obviously lost all immunity to the Slade spell. Maybe the butterflies had impacted me, because I felt drawn to him just like a moth to a flame.
“So, the thing is…” He hesitated, staring straight ahead, his jaw tight. “Max’s mom really wants me to work with him on overcoming some of his fears.”
Anxiety ballooned in my stomach. Why hadn’t she mentioned this to me? Wasn’t I in charge?
“What do you mean?”
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. Why was he nervous? He was the super nanny, after all.
“She’s worried Max is too cautious.” He spoke softly, then glanced at me and shrugged. “You’ve seen how he is.”
I forced a smile. “Well, at least he’s not afraid of butterflies.”
Slade grinned. “True. We can check that one off the list.”
I swallowed ne
rvously then plunged ahead. “So you weren’t kidding about the skydiving?”
“I think we’ll need to build up to that.”
Was he mocking me? I couldn’t tell. I stared at my phone, willing Desi to text or call me with a pretzel emergency.
“Seriously,” he continued. “I was thinking maybe we’d take them to Jungle Fever. They have lots of stuff to climb, and rope bridges that swing in the air.”
My head jerked up. “I’m afraid of heights,” I said, cursing myself for letting the words escape.
“Okay,” he said. “You don’t have to climb the stuff that’s really high. I can manage the kids.”
I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. God, I was pathetic. Why had the moms thought I could handle both kids? I pictured Dr. Edmunds’s latest check in my wallet and squeezed my eyes tight.
“Trina?” Slade’s voice was almost a whisper.
I kept my eyes closed. “Yeah?” I whispered back.
“You’ll be fine.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, sneaking a glance at his profile.
His eyes darted to the rearview mirror, to the road, and back to me. He cleared his throat. “About the swim lesson. Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t swim? Last week when we had that big fight?” He tugged at his hair. “I wouldn’t have made fun of you. I know you probably thought I would, but even I’m not that much of a jackass.” He spoke quickly, his words tumbling over one another.
My heart thudded wildly in my chest, looking for an exit. Apparently my tongue also wanted to flee its natural habitat, since I was unable to move it to form words.
His frustrated sigh filled the car, then he slanted me a quick grin. “Not to say I’m completely jackass-free, but I do have some redeeming qualities.”
I took a deep breath. It felt like I owed him some type of response, since he was trying so hard.
“It’s embarrassing, not knowing how,” I said. “I can’t hang out with my friends at the pool, because I never know when someone’s going to mess around and try to throw me in.” That had happened last summer. I shuddered as I remembered my terrified screams, my humiliation, the way I’d left the pool vowing never to return.
“I could teach you,” Slade said softly. “Private lessons. You’ll learn a lot faster that way.”
I imagined the two of us alone together in our swimsuits. Imagined another freak-out like last summer, with me ending up in tears. I shook my head vigorously.
“Wow. You really do hate me.” His voice was light, but I heard the tinge of bitterness underneath.
“I don’t hate you.” I swallowed the sand clogging my throat. “It’s just…it’s hard enough, learning. But it’s a million times harder learning from someone I know.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was part of it.
“But you know Lindsay.”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t.”
He raised an eyebrow. “She graduated from Sky Ridge last year.”
“Unlike you, I don’t know everyone.” My voice was shaky, but I felt a bit of my courage returning. “Besides, you teaching me might be a conflict of interest.”
He moved into the middle lane, getting ready to exit the highway. “How do you figure that?”
“It might give you an unfair professional advantage. Make you feel superior.” I laughed softly. “More than you already do, I mean.”
He grinned as he moved into the right lane. I noticed a few stray strands had escaped his shoelace, and the urge to retie his hair, after I ran my fingers through it, hit me with such force I caught my breath.
He glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “You all right? You see a ghost or something?”
I shook my head. The sooner I got out of the car and away from him, the better.
He shrugged. “Well, if you ever change your mind, just let me know. I’d even teach you for free. Anything to get you into the sun and do something about that pallor.”
“Did you just use ‘pallor’ in a sentence?”
He burst out laughing and my stomach roller-coastered as I watched the laughter crinkle the skin around his eyes.
“Ever since all you girls became obsessed with vampire dudes, it’s like I had to learn a new vocabulary just to keep up.”
Laughter bubbled out of me, surprising us both.
The car exited the highway and rolled to a stop at a red light. He turned toward me. “That’s more like it,” he said softly, his eyes roaming over my face.
I turned to look out my passenger window. Not even two weeks into this gig and it had all turned upside down and backward.
“You really should get ‘just kidding’ stamped on your forehead,” I said, determined to ignore his spell. “As warnings go, that one seems to be made for you.”
He chuckled next to me. “Watch it, BB. Don’t forget we’re going to Jungle Fever next time. You’d better be nice to me so I’ll catch you if you fall.”
Too late, I wanted to say. I’ve already fallen.
Nanny Notes: Butterfly Pavilion
PROS: Slade is a better nanny than me.
CONS: Slade is a better nanny than me. Also, Gillian hates things with wings.
MAJOR CON 1: I’m no longer immune to the Slade Spell. How am I going to survive the rest of the summer with a stupid crush on my nanny partner?
MAJOR CON 2: How long can I keep up this fake mentoring? I’m not even earning this extra money.
MAJOR CON 3: I hate not being able to tell him why I can’t swim. But I can’t.
Not yet.
Chapter Nineteen
Slade
Thursday, June 13
“Lindsay, it’s Slade. Do you need a sub for next week’s swim lesson?”
“Slade! I’m so glad you called. I totally do.”
I smiled into the phone. “It’s cool. I don’t mind. I can use the extra cash. I’ll just plan on covering for you until you’re better. You shouldn’t rush it, you know. Sprains can take a long time to heal.”
“You’re the best, Slade.”
This was perfect. Trina couldn’t ignore me if I showed up where she had to be. And I had some ideas about the swim lessons that might make her hate me less.
I poured myself another cup of Dad’s sacred coffee and stared out the window. I couldn’t get a read on her. It was like she was afraid of me or something. No matter how nice I was or how much I tried to make her laugh, she put up some sort of anti-Slade force field around herself that I couldn’t penetrate.
Girls never reacted like that around me. Was that why I couldn’t stop thinking about her? Because she wasn’t interested in me? Or was it something else? I took another swig of coffee. One thing was for sure—the more she pulled away, the more I wanted to pull her close. Somehow she’d gone from being a weird little Bird Brain to this impossible-to-catch fairy, flitting in and out of my life and driving me crazy with the desire to capture her.
And figure out her secrets, because she had a few. I was pretty sure about that.
I’d seen glimpses of another Trina hiding under the tightly wound one. The other Trina, who did that victory dance at Putt-Putt golf and whose laugh and smile stirred up feelings I hadn’t ever felt before, not even with Kristen. There had to be a way to reach that Trina again.
And not just so I could win that stupid bet with Alex.
Chapter Twenty
Trina
Friday, June 14
Jungle Fever was a madhouse. Screaming kids tore around the place like maniacal monkeys, climbing up and down rope ladders, flying across zip lines, and scampering up rock walls.
I had a stress headache before we’d even found a place to stash our stuff.
Gillian took off like a rocket, ready to tackle everything. Max hung back, holding Slade’s hand and looking around with wide eyes.
Slade peered down at me. “How ’bout I chase after Gilly and you two take a look around?”
I nodded and reached for Max’s free hand. “Good plan.” I forced a smile. I’d m
ade a vow to not be intimidated by Slade’s presence today. To act normal and casual, maybe even attempt a few jokes.
So far the plan was a fail, because every time I looked at him my body flooded with adrenaline and my brain seized.
Desi had offered no help whatsoever. “I knew it,” she’d said when I visited her at Pretzel Logic yesterday. “You’re so not immune to him.” She’d gloated and smirked. “Just admit it already.”
“I admit nothing.”
She’d laughed at me. “Fine. But mark my words—you’ll be a complete goner by the end of the summer.”
Was it possible to turn off my emotions? I snuck a sniff of lavender oil from my wrist, but Max caught me.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Busted by a five-year-old.
Then I had an idea. “Try it, Max,” I said, leaning down next to him. “It’s a special oil that calms you down. It might even make you brave enough to climb a wall.”
He blinked at me. “Is it magic?”
I paused. “Yes, I think it is. Whenever I get nervous or scared, I smell this and it totally calms me down.”
“Really?” He looked dubious.
I nodded and held my wrist toward him. “Try it.” It did kind of work, sometimes. Whatever. I needed all the help I could get, even if it was a placebo.
He hesitated, then sniffed. He looked up, surprised. “It smells good.”
I kissed the top of his forehead. “Magic always smells good. Are you ready to try something?”
He clutched my hand tightly and nodded. We moved tentatively toward the smallest rock wall, where Gillian had already scampered to the top. Slade cheered her on from the floor, his head thrown back, laughing and giving her a thumbs-up. Every girl in the vicinity was drooling.
“Come on,” I urged Max. One of the employees helped Max into a harness. His tiny face peeked up at me, terrified.
“You can do it,” I whispered, leaning in close.
He grabbed my wrist and inhaled deeply. “Okay,” he whispered. “I think I have enough magic now.”
“I know you do.”
“Come on, Max!” Gillian screamed down at him. “Come up here with me!”
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