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 made 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!”
Slade appeared next to us, boosting Max onto the lowest foot grips. “You can do it, buddy,” he said. “Just take it slow and you’ll do great.”
We stood so close that our arms brushed. The connection made me feel like I could power a small city.
“You can do it, Max!” I called. “You’ve got plenty of magic to get to the top.”
I felt Slade’s gaze on me and turned toward him.
“Magic?” he asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
Stay cool, I told myself.
“Yes, magic,” I said. “It’s a private thing between Max and me. Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” As soon as I’d tossed out that stupid phrase, the same one he’d used on me, I wanted to snatch it back.
He grinned at me, then tilted his head toward Max, who was halfway up the climbing wall. “Hey, whatever works, BB.”
I turned to Max and gasped. “He’s doing it!”
Slade’s grin deepened. “Of course he is. You gave him some of your fairy magic.”
“My what?” My cheeks burned. Fairy magic? Was he making fun of me?
“Slade!” Gillian screeched. “Watch me jump!”
We both turned, just in time to see her fling herself off the top of the rock wall, arms outstretched. Slade and one of the employees working the wall rushed forward to catch her, but Slade was faster. She landed in his arms, still attached to the harness, laughing hysterically.
I looked up at Max, now two-thirds of the way to the top, worry turning his face pale.
While Slade calmed down the freaked out employee and gently scolded Gillian, I moved closer to the wall. “You’re okay, kiddo,” I called up to him. “You’re almost to the top.”