Cool for the Summer by Dahlia Adler (best novels in english .TXT) 📗

“You’re joking. Show me again.”

I do, even though it makes me dizzy. It’s worth it for the way she wolf whistles when I’m done and yells, “That’s so hot!” In truth, my form is completely off, and Gia would have so many words for how out of practice I am, but I love that Jasmine thinks I’m amazing exactly as I am.

“I can’t believe I didn’t know you could do that,” she says, wiping away the sweat that lightly beads her forehead.

I shrug like it’s no big deal. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s true.” A little smile plays on her lips as she bends to draw her name in the sand. “Let’s see … I know your favorite color is turquoise. I know your favorite author is Clementine Walker. And I know you take your iced coffee with caramel syrup and way too much sugar.”

“Anyone who follows me on Snapchat knows those things.”

“Okay.” She stands and dusts off her hands, crosses her arms over her chest. “I know you used to spend summers at your mom’s friend’s house in the Finger Lakes, and that’s where you had your first kiss. I know the only two things guaranteed to make you cry are dogs dying in movies and the smell of salami and eggs, the second because it’s the only thing your shitty father ever made right. And I know you’re writing a romance novel in that notebook you keep under your pillow, even though you won’t let anyone read it. How am I doing?”

“Not bad,” I concede, giving my sternum a quick press with my palm to try and break up the weirdness building beneath it. “But I know you too. I know you’ve tried exactly six times to replicate your steta’s kibbeh recipe, and that it’s what you’d choose as your last meal on death row. I know your name was one of your parents’ biggest fights, because your mom wanted to name you after said grandmother and your father straight-up refused. I know you still sleep with a stuffed panda oh-so-cleverly named Panda. And I know you’re scared of waterskiing but don’t want anyone to know, because you don’t like people knowing you have any fears at all.”

Her eyes widen. “I am not—”

“Yeah, you are.”

She exhales. “Yeah, I am. How the hell did you know that?”

I watch you. I can’t freaking stop watching you. Wanna know some more things I know? That you have a lightning bolt of beauty marks on the back of your left thigh. That nothing tastes better than sparkling apple cider on your tongue in the hot tub. That every time I hear you reading French aloud to practice for the AP exam, I have to take a cold shower.

“Just very brilliant,” I say with a shrug.

She snorts. “Apparently. Come on, let’s go husk the corn.”

I jump at the chance to clear my head of the thoughts I definitely shouldn’t be having and follow her into the kitchen, where green piles await us on the center island’s concrete countertop. We immediately get to attacking it, yanking down the leaves and stringy silks and snapping them off at the base. Before long there’s a huge pile of garbage heaped in front of us on the counter, but it smells so sweet and delicious, I want to dive right in.

“You look like you wanna go to town on that,” Jasmine says dryly as we scoop up the mess. “Just remember, it’s still raw.”

“Okay, but I’m starving,” I grumble.

“We’re doing guacamole next.” She opens the fridge and pulls out a bunch of herbs while I grab the avocados. “I promise not to tell if you sneak an avocado or twelve.”

“That’s the kindest offer you’ve ever made me.”

“Probably.”

Together we peel and pit until our fingers are stained green. I’m about to suggest a break when something cool and slimy smushes against my face.

“Did you just.” I whirl around to see a smirk on Jasmine’s face and a mashed avocado slice in her hand. “Oh, no you did not.” I grab an avocado half and leap in her direction, but she’s half a step too fast and we end up in a running battle.

“Gotta be way faster than that, Tinkerbell!” she crows, and in the second she stops to gloat, I wrap an arm around her waist and mash the avocado into her head.

“My hair!” she shrieks, even though we both need to shower before the party.

She rolls out of my grasp as I gleefully hold up my green hands and say, “Avocado oil is healthy for it! You’re welcome, Princess!”

“I’ll show you a princess.” She comes charging toward me and tackles me to the floor, each of us trying to smear the other’s face with goop.

“This is not what I thought you meant when you told me I could sneak an avocado,” I growl.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She sits up and holds her hands in the air, but she’s still pinning me down, her knees holding tight to my waist. Even covered in green gunk, her cutoff tee a stained and sweaty mess, she manages to look sexy as hell. “Go ahead.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” I take one of those hands and bring it to my lips, licking the traces of avocado from her palm. She laughs, but her giggles taper off as I suck one finger at a time into my mouth.

By the time I’m done tasting each one, the look in Jasmine’s golden eyes could melt the corn off its cobs. I’m about to make a move when Declan’s voice rings through the kitchen. “Girls? Did you do the guacamole?”

Jasmine rolls off me quick as lightning and I jump up, just as Declan walks into the kitchen. Even though we haven’t been caught flirting, we’ve sure as hell been caught making a mess of his pristine kitchen. I watch as he takes in the sight, both of us covered in avocado that should be mashed into his