“How did it choose you?”

“I was in seventh grade and a total outcast. I didn’t really have any friends since I was more focused on my schoolwork than being the popular girl, and that was okay, but it wasn’t until I found myself lonely on the weekends while everyone else was going to the mall and to the movies that I realized I was in desperate need of friends. Well, trying to make friends in middle school is like trying to convince Friends fans that Joey and Rachel should have been together: pretty much impossible. I was sitting outside my favorite teacher’s classroom one day at lunch when these kids were walking by talking about how they needed someone to be on their math team. I was pretty decent at math, so on the spur of the moment, I stood up and told them I was available. It took a little bit of convincing, but they ended up giving me a chance, and just like that, I was a mathlete.”

I can’t seem to wipe the stupid smile off my face from hearing the genuine excitement in Ren’s voice.

“From there, I fell in love, and hard.”

“With one of the guys on your math team?”

“Nope.” She pops the p. “I fell in love with math. I was infatuated with solving problems, and it became my life. Yes, I had friends, but more importantly, I found a new appreciation for the subject. It was so cut and dried—you either did it right or you didn’t, no gray area. It became my safety blanket, and when I was applying for colleges, I knew exactly what I wanted to do: share my love of math with kids, show them the kind of magic it is.”

I’m silent for a second, soaking in her story, appreciating the honesty and passion behind it. She’s the first person I’ve ever met who’s had such passion for numbers. Hell if I don’t weirdly find it sexy.

There has to be something wrong with me.

“You must think I’m silly.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Not even a little. I think it’s . . . hell, I think it’s amazing, the love you have for something we’ve all taken advantage of. Math is everyday.”

She practically bounces in her seat when she answers. “It so is. Ah, you get me, Griffin.”

I chuckle. “Yes, I get you.”

On a deep sigh, she lolls her head to the side. “So tell me a secret about Port Snow, something only locals really know.”

I pause the truck at a stop sign and shoot her a quick glance, only to find a huge smile on her face and her sweet lips wet and plump, calling out to me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been truly attracted to a woman to the point that I keep sneaking glances at her. But there’s something else about her that holds my attention. Maybe it’s that she’s new, or that she doesn’t know my past, or maybe it’s her habit of asking question after question, not letting there be a moment of silence between us.

I hate to admit that I kind of like it.

Contemplating this latest question, I drag my hand over my mouth. “Hmm . . . have you been to the general store yet?”

“I popped in for some basic items like peanut butter and jelly and plastic plates. Why? Is there something I need to know about the place? Is there a secret door I don’t know about? Like, you pull on a lever that’s really an old baguette, and a shelf opens to a hidden lair?”

“What?” I chuckle. “No, but interesting imagination you have there.”

“It can get me into trouble sometimes.”

“I could see that.” I make a right-hand turn. “There’s no secret lever, but Oliver, the guy who owns the store, he makes the ice cream, and there’s a secret stash in the back that he only sells to locals. New concoctions that he’s trying out. It’s a gold mine if you get there early enough. Every Thursday night he offers his exclusive flavors, first come, first served. To have access, you have to give him the code word.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.”

“Well, what’s the code word?”

I shake my head, a smile playing at my lips. “Oh no, I’m not about to tell you that just yet. I don’t think you’ve earned the right to try Oliver’s special creations.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope. You’re not ready.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, and from the corner of my eye, I can see her breasts lift higher, just begging for me to take in an eyeful, but I reluctantly keep my eyes forward.

“How on earth am I not ready? I have a Port Snow residency, don’t I?”

“You have to prove yourself first.”

“How on earth do I do that?”

I shake my head. “Hell if I know. I just know the elders are very specific about who knows, and if I went and gave you the code too early, I could get into some real trouble. And I’m not in the mood to deal with their antics. Sorry, Ren, but my lips are sealed.”

She huffs. “Then why the hell would you tell me that secret?”

I shrug and smile. “Couldn’t think of anything else.”

“That’s just cruel, Griffin, very, very cruel.”

“Hey, maybe if you’re nice to me, I’ll score you some ice cream this Thursday.”

“Oh, now you’re bribing me? I see how it is. Tsk, tsk, Griffin. I thought you were better than that.”

God, I really like how playful she is.

I press my lips together to keep from smiling way too damn much. “Never said I was above bribery. Sorry, neighbor.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

REN

Oh my God, he’s so freaking cute.

Socks, toothpaste, a laundry basket, and a pack of beef jerky.

And here I am with half of his truck bed full of things: towels, pots and pans, dishes, some bedding, and so much more. I had two carts full. It was slightly embarrassing, but like the gentleman he is, he helped me load everything into the truck.

My stomach grumbles as I hop up into the cab. It’s past seven, and I’m feeling really guilty that I’ve kept him so long. He was done shopping in five minutes, while I was going down aisle after aisle, loading up. He must be so over this entire trip.

I bite my bottom lip and look over at him as he slides into the truck as well, letting out a puff of air before clipping himself in with his seat belt. The truck roars to life, and when he takes a look over his shoulder to pull out, he catches me looking at him.

“Everything okay? Did you get everything you needed?”

I nod, feeling incredibly nervous all of a sudden. I want to see if he’s hungry, but I’m also afraid he might think I’m being too presumptuous, “asking” him to dinner.

But with my stomach aching, I decide to jump in and ask. “I got everything. I was just wondering if you were hungry. I’m kind of starving over here for dinner.”

He starts to back out of the parking spot. “Yeah, I planned on stopping at a little place on the way home; it’s about seven minutes away. Sells wraps and sandwiches, has some of the best lobster rolls in the area. Is that okay with you?”

“That would be absolutely perfect. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. I was feeling the hunger start to take over about ten minutes ago.”

Guilt consumes me. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“Don’t. You’re good.” He straightens out the truck and takes off down the freshly paved road flanked by little mom-and-pop shops, the rumble and power of the vehicle shaking my seat beneath me. When he’s back on the main road heading toward Port Snow, he asks, “So you drove out here without anything?”

“I actually flew—bought my car at a used dealership and was driving it for the first time when I almost ran into the moose.”

“What? Really?” He shakes his head. “Shit, that’s a bad first drive.”

“Tell me about it, but hey, gives me more of a chance to walk around and get to know the area better.”

“I hope you weren’t planning on walking to Pottsmouth.”

“No, never, but strolling around town is nice. I feel like I see something new every day.”

“Good, just stick to town. There are some insane tourists around here, so be careful.”

My heart warms at his concern. I like that he’s warning me, protecting me, like we’re becoming good friends. At least that’s what’s happening in my overactive imagination. And hey, if one of my first friends in town just so happens to be the hottest guy I’ve ever met, then so be it.

“I will. Thanks. And I do have some things on the way from LA. My parents are driving out with my stuff a little later. I have some summer meetings at school and thought it would be nice to get to know the town a bit before I had to report in. And it’s nice to get some new things. The plates and pots I had were hand-me-downs from college. It was about time I upgraded, you know?” And it’s time I made a house of my own, rather than relying and waiting on my parents to help.

“Well, if I’d known you were going to get so much, I could have taken you to some other stores.”