Sweet Caroline by Rachel Hauck Read Free Book Online

little, trying to laugh, swal-low, and breathe at the same time. Fizz burns the back of my nose. “Butch Moore. You cannot be serious.”
    He was the resident nerd for Beaufort High’s Class of ’97, and proudly so. When last I saw him, not much had changed. He’s still into video games and Star Trek . I wish him life, health, and happiness, but not Elle.
    Jess sighs with a nod. “She did.”
    “Just dinner.” Elle Z ’s the air with her finger. “And I drove myself.”
    My beautiful, artistic, educated, compassionate friend. Reduced to dating nerds. It’s not right. “Are you really that desperate?”
    “Well, we can’t all be you, can we?”
    Touchy. “I’ve dated two men. If—and it’s a big if”—I lower my voice—“you count J. D. This is only our fourth date.”
    “Oh, you’re dating,” Jess says with confidence. “I see the way he looks at you.”
    “What look?” I sneak a peek at him. Oh, he’s watching me. I smile. He winks. Tingles rush over me.
    The truth is there aren’t many pages in my dating-history book. Before this “thing” with J. D., there was only Mitch. He was— er , is—spectacular. Last year, People magazine listed him in the top ten of “Most Beautiful Men of the Decade.” The decade!
    For far too long, I clung to Mitch as my true love, completely lost in the hope of “us.”
    At nineteen, he moved to Nashville with the intent of becoming a country music star, eager to shed his preacher’s kid stigma. I was also nineteen and confident that all the promises we made to each other were real, passionate, and for life. I had no idea we’d keep—he’d keep—none of them.
    After several years of back and forth, caring and not caring, roller coasting between tears and nail-spitting mad, Elle drove me down to Savannah for a nice dinner and hard talk. “Come down off Mount Still-Hoping. Look around—you’re in the land of It’s-Never-Gonna-Happen. Mitch has moved on. So should you. You’re living a spinster librarian life while he dates Hollywood A-listers and the latest half-starved beauty from Madison Avenue.” She shuddered. “And I saw him take the True Love Waits pledge at youth church.”
    As though to take my mind off bad memories, J. D.’s hand brushes along my shoulders and under my hair. His baritone rises and falls in conversation with the guys.
    “Okay, be honest.” Elle taps her forehead. “Does it say ‘Geeks Stand a Chance’ right here?”
    “What?” I lean into J. D.’s caress. Jess’s high twitter explodes around us.
    “Ladies, I’m asking a serious question.” Elle squares her shoulders and gestures to her slender frame. “Anywhere on here? Does it say ‘Geeks Stand a Chance’?”
    What is she talking about? Homecoming Queen, Most Popular—the guys had to book a date with her, months in advance. One of my joys in high school was standing in her shadow and watching the parade. And at the University of South Carolina, she was president of this club and chairman of that committee.
    “You’re beautiful and intimidating,” I conclude. “The geeks are too clueless to realize they’re hunting in the wrong field.”
    Elle slides down in her seat. “Y’all, I’m serious. The other day I was at the gym and this gorgeous guy with long black curly hair and great arms walked slowly past me. He looked. I looked.” Elle demonstrates her look . “He smiled. I smiled. Then, out of nowhere, this geekozoid in Velcro sneakers and a T-shirt that says ‘Too many women, so little time’ is right in front of me, asking if I want to go to Luther’s for a beer.”
    Lowering my head, I laugh into my drink. Jess’s twitter deepens.
    “I think to myself,” Elle continues, “ Oh, my stars, I know people at Luther’s .”
    Tracey appears with Diet Coke refills and the fried pickles.
    “What did you tell him?” Jess manages between snickers.
    “I told him I don’t drink. Which is true, so I don’t feel guilty.” Elle snatches a pickle and