For The Summer Read online

  “We have time,” I whisper.

  ***

  We had to stop twice thanks to Kris’s giant iced coffee. It was totally worth it though. That thing was delicious. I drank every last sip and used the straw to scrape the whipped cream from the crevices at the bottom of the cup. Fin laughed at me, but I know he likes my quirks. Hell, I am a quirk so I hope that’s his thing.

  We’ve been in the car for over three hours and I’ve never wished for a good sense of direction more before in my life. An hour ago I asked Fin if he was driving me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me. His answer: “If I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t torture myself with Taylor Swift for three hours before doing it.” Was fairly comforting. Also, now that it’s been three hours I have to assume we’re getting close. He turns off the highway, the sign says Wilmington, which tells me absolutely nothing. I sit up straight and look out the window as we drive through a little town not much different from the one we came from. Then I see it. The ocean.

  We pull over, parking against the curb. I can’t hide the smile pulling at my mouth and encroaching up my cheeks all the way to my eyes. I'm like a kid in a candy store as my eyes scan the deep blue glistening waves and golden sand. I turn to look at Fin only to find him already staring at me. A smile of his own in place.

  "I didn't think I'd make it to the beach this summer," I say quietly, staring into his hazel eyes. They're so much brighter and deeper than I've ever seen them, pale green flecked with emerald and gold.

  "Well, you didn't know you'd meet me." He leans over and kisses me, soft and slow. It's not our first kiss, but something about it feels like it is. It feels new. Fresh and bright and full of possibilities. I spent the last two years thinking I'd be on the first plane west at the end of this summer. Once those plans went up in flames and the ashes were scattered into the wind I thought I'd reluctantly stay awhile, searching my soul for a new path, a better plan. Fin’s right, I didn't see him coming because if I had, this summer would have been the only plan I needed. The way he's slid into place effortlessly in the short time I've known him. The way my healing heart opened right up and made space for him in its scarred tissue. This just feels right, like fate stepped in and pulled a few strings, bringing us together when I needed it most. I don’t know what that means for me, I still have a lot of soul searching to do, but one thing is clear. I don’t want this to be just for the summer. I don’t want to lose this feeling, the way my stomach flips when he smirks at me, how my heart races every time he leans a little bit closer. I want this to last.

  He pulls away slowly and I open my eyes. I want to reach out to touch him, to make sure he’s real. Instead, I settle for subtly pinching my own arm, ouch. Definitely awake. Then something occurs to me, and I feel my brow droop and my lips form a pout.

  “I didn’t bring a bathing suit. We need to find a store and someplace for me to change and maybe a sandwich shop,” I ramble on. “I’m getting hungry.”

  “I packed some of your stuff while you were still sound asleep.”

  “You packed for me?” I ask, a smile taking over my features at the sweet gesture.

  “I just threw some beach looking stuff into a bag from your closet,” he clarifies. I don’t even care. This entire trip is the sweetest thing anyone other than my mother has ever done for me. Fin continues to surprise me at every turn. On the surface, he’s this stoic guy. Quiet and private, full of secrets, and determined to keep it that way. But every gesture, every conversation reveals a little bit more about who he is behind the walls he’s built around himself. And the more glimpses I get of that guy, the more I need to know about him because I’m falling for a guy I barely know, and I just hope he’ll be there to catch me in the end.

  Fin climbs out of the car and I follow his lead, meeting him at the trunk. He pulls two bags out, slinging them over his shoulder and reaching for my hand.

  “Where are we going?” I ask, stepping up onto the sidewalk beside him. Fins jeans and tee and my leggings and crop-top aren’t exactly beach attire and lugging duffle bags around this little beach town doesn’t sound like the best idea I’ve ever heard.

  He doesn’t answer, instead, he starts walking again, keeping my fingers tightly woven between his. He pulls open the left side of a set of glass double doors, nodding me in before following behind me. I feel my eyes go wide and my brow creases as I look around the lobby of the building. The cream tiles and white long desk give the room an airy feeling. The bronze chandelier hanging at the center of the room and the matching floor lamps positioned between white linen armchairs add a touch of elegance and warmth to the space. But, what are we doing here?

  Fin heads for the desk with me trailing behind him, staring at the impressive decor the entire way.

  “Bennett,” he says, releasing my hand and pulling out his wallet. He slides his license and a credit card across the counter, the girl behind the desk pulls them toward her and begins typing. She opens a drawer and slides a white plastic card through a machine, then slides all three cards back across the counter.

  “Enjoy your stay,” she says with a bright smile.

  Fin takes my hand and walks toward the elevators on the other side of the lobby, he pushes the up arrow and looks at me.

  “What are we doing here?” I whisper.

  “Well, we need to change into beach clothes, and eventually we’ll want to change out of them and probably shower,” he explains. The elevator door slides open and we step in.

  “I’m sorry, this is going way over my head right now. You have snarky remarks about my family’s finances and then you book a hotel room to use as a changing booth?” I ask. My tone is playful and maybe a little bit sarcastic. The wheels in my head are starting to spin. I try not to overthink things or read too much into other people’s personal lives when they aren’t forthcoming. But at this point, I’m getting really curious about Fin. I mean, I grew up with more money at my disposal than any normal person would know what to do with. But booking a room in a nice hotel just to get dressed in isn’t something that would even have crossed my mind. It’s not a bad idea, just, you know, a complete waste of money.

  “You’re right, we should just stay.” He shrugs, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I say, tilting my head to the side and staring into his eyes.

  “But we could,” he counters.

  I roll my eyes and smile. This entire day is completely insane in the best way possible and it’s barely afternoon.

  Fin slides the keycard through the reader on the door and holds it wide for me to enter first. The room is even more impressive than the lobby. I’m not even sure if this is considered a room or a suite, to be honest. The main area has a bed and a sitting area, there’s a small kitchenette and the bathroom is as big as the one attached to my room at home. The little voice in the back of my mind is telling me this room is way too nice to let go to waste. That voice is amplified when Fin wraps his arms around my waist, pulling my back against him. He bends down and kisses the side of my neck. I close my eyes and sigh, relaxing into his body.

  “Why did you do all of this?” I whisper.

  He stops kissing my neck and takes a deep breath, turning me so we’re face to face.

  “I’m going to screw this up, more than once if you give me the chance. I almost pushed you away last night and when you walked away I felt something I’ve never felt before, something I never want to feel again.” He drags his knuckles down my cheek, staring into my eyes. “I’m guarded and I have secrets I’m not ready to share. I know that’s not going to make this easy but I need you to know that I want this to work. I care about you and I don’t want my faults to chase you away. I’m going to be a work in progress, Amelia, but I’ll never miss an opportunity to show you how much you mean to me.”

  I’m frozen in place, staring at him with wide eyes. My breaths are heavy and I can hear my heart in the deafening silence.

  “Too much too soon?” he asks, and
I hear him swallow loudly.

  I shake my head, no. “That was the most perfect thing I’ve ever heard.”

  I push up on my toes and press my lips to his, wrapping my arms around his neck. I can feel his hard body relax into mine, his arms circle my waist and he tugs me closer. Being in Fin’s orbit is intoxicating, he makes me forget about the rest of the world, and for just a little while I’m content living in the moment. But being this close is all-consuming, wrapped up in his arms with his lips pressed against mine, I could stay like this forever and never look back.

  ***

  We walk through the double doors of the lobby, stepping onto the bright sidewalk hand in hand. I have a canvas tote bag slung over my shoulder, Fin wasn’t kidding when he said he tossed beach looking things into a bag for me. The bag contains a bathing suit, a few pairs of shorts, t-shirts, this canvas tote I usually use at farmers’ markets, and a lot of underwear. Like, a week’s worth, which I’ve already made fun of him for. The hotel is only two blocks from the beach so we leave the Jeep parked and walk down the street. Fin stops in front of a small cafe, nodding toward the door.

  “Let’s grab lunch,” he says, pulling the door open.

  “To go.” I smile, looking down the street toward the beach.

  The cafe is packed and it’s a good thing we’re going to eat on the beach because every table is full and a few lingering patrons look like they’re waiting to pounce as soon as one opens up. Fin orders and I snag two bags of chips and water bottles from the cooler, placing them on the counter. I toss some Altoids into the pile. I think I’m running low. Once back out on the sidewalk, it’s less than ten minutes before my sandals sink into the sand and warmth surrounds my feet. It’s been over a year since I made it to the beach and I honestly didn’t think I’d get to dip my toes into the ocean at all this year. With the move and the pressure to figure out what I want to do come the fall and now the added drama between Mom and the grandparents, driving three hours to lay in the sun and swim in the saltwater didn’t seem like a practical choice. But Fin made the choice for me, and I’m so happy he did. This was literally the best surprise and exactly what I needed.

  We stop a few feet up from where the sand starts to get wet and dark. I lay out two of the big white towels from the hotel. Normally I’m the obnoxious Disney print beach towel kind of girl. Princesses and talking animals all the way, but today I’ll make an exception and settle for a fluffy hotel towel. I drop the bag between our towels and we sit down, then I pull out the sandwiches and drinks we stashed in there. When I look up Fin is staring at me.

  “What?” I ask, looking around to make sure I’m not missing something.

  He shakes his head, unwraps his sandwich, and cracks open his water, taking a long drink.

  “Tell me something about you,” he says after a few quiet minutes of eating. “Something I don’t know yet.”

  Now it’s my turn to take a sip of water, but I’m not really thirsty. I just need a minute to think. Time to scrape my mind for something interesting or unique. I wish I had a perfectly scripted line that would make this moment epic. The kind of line Kathleen Kelly or Annie Reed would utter without a moment’s hesitation. But I don’t. I come up completely empty, offering Fin a shrug in lieu of an answer.

  “What do you miss most about New York?”

  The question catches me off guard. It shouldn’t, it’s a perfectly normal thing to ask someone who has just left the only home they’ve ever known. But it does. I take a deep breath and look out at the water. My eyes catch on the glistening waves as I mull it over. Then I turn my attention back to him.

  “Nothing,” I confess, shaking my head slowly.

  “You don’t miss anything? Friends? A favorite restaurant? Your house?”

  “There was an ice cream shop I liked a lot, but I can get ice cream anywhere,” I say. It’s kind of sad to think about. If you had asked me about my life three years ago I would have said it was pretty perfect. My father wasn’t around much, but that was normal. I had friends and Mom and I had a whole routine surrounding school and her schedule. We were busy and life felt full. Looking back on our life now I can see that we were piecing things together to create the illusion of a perfect life. Our friends were fake, the house was cold and quiet and empty. The clubs and activities we filled our time with were just that, things to kill time so we weren’t sitting around poking holes at the fake life we were living. The more I think about it, Mom was right, the night my father made his big announcement and laid all the cards on the table, celebrating was the right thing to do. It was hard to stay in that town while I finished high school. The gossip and the cold shoulders from the community we had once been at the center of was painful, but it was also liberating. Losing everything shed light on how much we had to gain and it brought the truth to the surface. Mom and I never belonged there, in that life surrounded by fake people who care more about their image and their stuff than each other. The simple answer is that I don’t miss my old life because there isn’t anything to miss.

  “Your turn,” I say, rolling up my empty sandwich wrapper and popping an Altoid into my mouth.

  “Something about me?” He raises his eyebrow, like he wasn't expecting this to be a back and forth. Then he clears his throat and grabs a mint out of the open tin in my hand.

  "Ok, I like to watch football.”

  I nod my head, thinking about his answer. It’s not personal, or deep, but it’s something.

  “Do you follow a single team, or are you a fantasy football guy?”

  He smiles and his brows raise again. I guess he wasn’t expecting any follow up questions. Guys love to assume that girls aren’t into sports, that talking about football is some kind of foreign language we couldn’t possibly understand. Not this girl. Football was a big thing back home and Lexi and I went to every game. At the time I thought she went because she was a good friend, but hindsight is twenty-twenty and now I know she had her own motives.

  “A little bit of both,” he says, absently running his fingers up and down my bare calf. “I’m a Panthers fan so I try to catch all of their games, but I am in a league so I watch more than one game.”

  “Did your dad get you into football?” I ask, popping another mint into my mouth.

  “My adoptive dad? I guess so. I mean, I watched games when I was younger, when I had the chance, but my adoptive dad watched Sunday, Monday and Thursday so it was something we bonded over.”

  The way he clarifies that the man who raised him is an adoptive parent, I can’t help but wonder if that’s something a lot of foster and adopted kids do or if it’s specific to Fin. He hasn’t told me a lot about them, but what he has mentioned makes them sound like wonderful people, the kind of people you would want to call Mom and Dad. I don’t want to pry or make him uncomfortable, but I would love to know more about their dynamic and the relationship he has with his parents.

  “Do you still see them much?” I ask, deciding on this as my final question. I love getting to know more about Fin, but I don’t want this to feel like an interrogation.

  He smirks. “Quite a bit, actually.”

  We spend the next few hours laying in the sun and walking along the water. Fin sat in the sand and watched when I went for a swim. When I asked him to join me, he declined, saying he wasn’t big on swimming in the ocean. I shook my head, bewildered. His loss.

  By the time we unlock the door to the room I’m tired and hungry and extremely sandy. I have to admit, the hotel room was a good idea. I peel off my tank top and shorts, dropping them by the bathroom door, then I untie the straps of my bikini top and step out of the bottoms. Fin is distracted, typing something into his phone with a serious expression. I clear my throat.

  “Want to join me?” I say, flipping the bathroom light switch on.

  He looks up from the screen. His eyes go wide at my naked body in front of him, he tosses his phone onto the bed and crosses the room with fire in his eyes. His lips are on mine and his hands are tangled in
my hair as we back up into the bathroom. He breaks our kiss just long enough to pull his sleeveless cotton shirt over his head while I turn on the shower. Then our mouths reconnect. Passion and raw emotion take over, our tongues twist together, exploring each other. We step into the shower, closing the glass door behind us. Fins turns me around so my back is against his chest. Hot water sprays down on us and steam quickly fills the bathroom. His hands move down my body, massaging my breasts and digging into my hips. The way my body reacts to him is primal. I press myself against his toned body until I can feel every muscle against my skin. He dips his head, kissing and nibbling at my neck and shoulder. I moan. But it’s not just sex. This is more than hormones and circumstances. The feelings I’ve developed for him so quickly shock me. My breath hitches in my throat at the realization that I’ve fallen in love with him. I’m deeply and unapologetically in love with a guy I barely know. A guy who’s already warned me about his flaws, but in the same breath told me how much I mean to him in spite of his guarded heart.

  His lips move to my ear and he whispers, “Do you want to finish this in bed?”

  I shake my head, no. “I’m on the pill, I want you to take me in the shower.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks, nuzzling into my neck and kneading both of my breasts at the same time.

  My heart is racing and my breathing is heavy.

  “Yes.” It comes out raspy and breathless.

  He wraps his arms around me and I feel him press into me, sliding in at a teasingly slow pace. The sensations of the hot water enveloping my body, his lips on my skin, and the fullness inside of me makes my eyes flutter and rollback. Waves of intense pleasure fall over me as Fin rolls his hips, moving in and out faster, harder. I brace my hands on the tile wall as a gasp and then a moan cross my lips. I feel his body tense against my back as his own climax ripples through him, sending a shiver down my spine.