I had exactly three goals for this summer:
1. Sleep till noon
2. Tan like a goddess
3. Flirt with the lifeguard at Sandy Ridge Beach until he asked me out
Nowhere—literally nowhere—on that list did it say, "Share my house with my dad's best friend's annoying, arrogant, totally off-limits son."
So guess how my summer's starting?
"Zoey!" my dad shouted from downstairs. "Come say hi to Jaxon!"
I froze mid-scroll, my phone slipping out of my hand and smacking me in the face. "No. Freaking. Way."
Not that Jaxon.
I rolled out of bed, half dead inside, and stomped downstairs in my oversized T-shirt and pineapple pajama shorts. Because if I was gonna suffer, I might as well look like I didn't care.
And there he was. In the middle of my kitchen. Standing next to the fridge like he owned it. Jaxon freaking Reed. Taller. Broader. His hair was messier in that intentional way. He looked like one of those boys in a summer romance movie that the main girl falls in love with and ruins her life over.
And worst of all? He looked hot.
"You've gotta be kidding me," I muttered.
Jaxon turned toward me slowly, flashing that dumb lopsided grin he always used when he knew he was being annoying. "Hey, Zoey. Long time."
No hug. No apology for being the human version of a paper cut. Just "Hey."
I ignored the way my heart did this weird hiccup and glared at him. "What are you doing in my house?"
He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of orange juice like he belonged here. "Didn't your dad tell you? I'm crashing here for the summer. My mom's on some yoga retreat in Costa Rica and my dad's filming in Atlanta. So here I am."
"You're living here?" I hissed.
My dad appeared, coffee mug in hand, smiling like this was the best idea he ever had. "Yep! Isn't that great? You two used to be inseparable when you were kids."
"Yeah, when we were five," I snapped. "Before he turned into a walking ego with abs."
"Thanks," Jaxon said, raising his juice bottle like he was toasting me. "The abs are new. Glad you noticed."
I wanted to punch him in the jaw. Or maybe the stomach. But definitely somewhere that would knock the smug out of him.
"Zoey," my dad warned. "Play nice. He's family."
"No, he's not."
He gave me that tired parent look. "Please. Just make this work. It's only for the summer. And hey, maybe this'll be good for you. Get out of your room. Be social."
Social? I had plans. Chill, flirty, peaceful plans that didn't involve this disaster in board shorts.
Jaxon leaned against the counter, sipping his juice like it was a cocktail. "Don't worry, Mr. Taylor. Zoey and I will be just fine. I'm charming as hell."
I gave him the deadliest side-eye I could manage. "You're literally the reason the word 'nuisance' exists."
But my dad was already grabbing his keys, unfazed. "Alright, I gotta get to work. You two behave."
The door shut behind him.
And then we were alone.
I stared at Jaxon like he was a wild animal I wasn't sure I wanted to domesticate or unleash. "Stay out of my room. Don't touch my stuff. And don't talk to me unless someone's dying."
He smirked. "You always this dramatic before breakfast?"
I stormed past him, yanked the box of cereal from the cabinet, and pretended he didn't exist. Which was really hard, considering he was very much shirtless now. When the hell did he take his hoodie off? His abs looked carved. Like, unfairly sculpted. Not that I was looking. I wasn't.
"Stop staring," he said casually.
"I'm not staring. I'm silently judging."
"Sure. Just make sure you judge me from my good side." He winked.
I groaned so loud, the cereal box nearly ripped in half. "You're insufferable."
"You're cute when you're mad," he said, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl.
My spoon hit the table. "Jaxon. Seriously. Stop."
His smile dropped a little. Just for a second. "Alright, alright. Chill. I'm just messing with you."
I stared at him. He looked... tired. Like underneath all the cocky energy, he hadn't slept properly in days. I didn't ask. I wasn't gonna ask. That wasn't my job.
"You can take the guest room," I said finally. "End of the hall. Left."
He nodded. "Thanks."
We didn't talk much after that. I went back upstairs, trying to pretend he wasn't unpacking in the room across from mine. Trying to pretend I wasn't remembering the last time I saw him—two years ago, at a wedding, when he told me I was just a "weird little know-it-all" and laughed in my face when I tried to dance with someone.
Yeah. That Jaxon.
I stayed in my room most of the day, binge-watching bad romcoms and eating mini donuts from the bag like a gremlin. Summer was already ruined, and it was only day one.
Around 6 p.m., I heard music from outside. Loud music. Like, party-on-the-roof kind of loud.
I looked out my window.
Jaxon was in the backyard. Shirtless again. Of course. Lying on a beach towel with sunglasses and a speaker blasting some trashy pop remix. He had a can of soda in one hand and a smirk on his face.
This boy was trying to piss me off.
I grabbed my phone and texted my best friend, Skye:
> ZOEY: help me he's turning my house into a frat house and I want to die
SKYE: shirtless again??
ZOEY: unfortunately yes
SKYE: send pic
ZOEY: NO
SKYE: coward
SKYE: anyway he's hot
ZOEY: he's ANNOYING
SKYE: you say that like it's a dealbreaker lol
I threw my phone down and flopped onto the bed.
This summer was going to kill me.
Later that night, I went down for a drink. The kitchen was dark, except for the glow of the fridge.
Jaxon was there, again, shirtless (I swear it's his default state), chugging water from the jug like a caveman.
"Ever heard of cups?" I asked.
He wiped his mouth. "You're still up?"
"Couldn't sleep. Probably because someone was blasting music like it's Coachella out there."
He leaned on the counter, arms crossed. "Sorry. Didn't think you'd care."
I opened the cupboard, grabbed a glass, and poured my own water. "Well, I do."
He stared at me for a second. Quiet. Then said, "Why do you hate me so much, anyway?"
I blinked. "Are you serious?"
"Dead serious. We used to be close. Then suddenly I'm the villain in your head."
I set the glass down. "You ditched me. At that wedding. Remember? You made fun of me. In front of everyone."
His brow furrowed. "I didn't mean to—"
"You laughed at me, Jaxon."
He ran a hand through his hair. "I was just being stupid. I didn't think it mattered."
"Well, it did."
We stood there in silence. Tension hanging between us like storm clouds.
Then he stepped closer.
Too close.
"I'm not that guy anymore," he said, voice lower now.
"Good. Because I don't like him."
He smirked. "What about this version of me?"
I stared at him. His face was right there—those eyes, that jawline, the stupid smirk that made my brain short-circuit.
I should've said something. Shoved him. Walked away.
Instead, my heart went traitor and skipped.
And then—no warning—he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
"Night, Zoey," he said softly, before walking away.
Leaving me standing there, frozen, glass still in my hand, wondering what the hell just happened.