Even with her hair still pulled off her face in a messy bun, I drink her in like I didn’t agree for our relationship to be purely platonic three years ago. Her eyeshadow is still a horrid shade of blue, but it’s more fitting since it’s the same color as her flirty-hemmed dress.
The high hemline of the outfit she’s nervously fiddling with proves she lied about having cellulite. Even if I hadn’t seen her naked, I could still confidently declare there isn’t a single dimple in the inches upon inches of skin she’s revealing, and the twinkle in her eyes exposes she’s finally recognizing that.
I didn’t mean to trample her privacy, but I’m kind of glad I did if this is the result of it. I’ve never seen Summer more confident in her own skin, and the image is boosting more than her confidence.
Regretfully, I’m not the only one noticing the newfound spring in her step. Mark’s gawk from across the room isn’t discreet, and despite having a ditzy blonde cuddled at his side, Adam’s eyes rake over Summer more than once. His watch is so depraved, anyone would swear he too now knows what Summer hides under baggy shirts and two-sizes-too-big sweaters.
“Too much or too little?” Summer asks after joining me in the foyer, the scowl I’m directing at Adam and Mark having her mistake the annoyance on my face as disgust. I like what I’m seeing—too much for a friend—but I don’t know how to express that without fucking things up between us.
I’m also not eager to gauge my father’s response to my plus-one. If it’s anything like Adam and Mark’s reaction, we could end up exchanging more than words tonight. My father can flirt his way into a nun’s heart. If that happens with Summer, our friendship will be ruined even quicker than my inability to maintain a promise.
As much as this sucks to admit, I can’t recall a single time I was genuinely happy before Summer blew into my life with a refreshing attitude and an even more becoming face. I was playing ball every weekend, dating prom queens and head cheerleaders, but I had no clue it was a fake, meaningless existence until a sexy scientist fronting as a book nerd saved me from a psychopath.
She made me a better man, but not enough for me to admit the best thing I could ever do for her is to let her go.
Mistaking my silence, Summer says, “I’ll get changed.” She barely gets two steps away when Marcelle’s float down the stairwell freezes her steps. She’s gone all out with a ballgown priced in the thousands and diamonds nearing the millions, but her efforts are lost on Summer who can’t tell the difference between an onyx stone and a rare black diamond. “Or perhaps I should wear my hair down? Mix it up a little.”
“You don’t need to do either of those things. You look great as you are.” I seize her wrist before she can wedge another two steps between us, then guide her outside the monstrosity my father likes to call home. “And we’re already running late.”
That’s my fault, not Summer’s. I told her the event didn’t start until ten because I wanted to show up late for my father’s moment in the spotlight. He didn’t turn up to my preschool, middle school, or high school graduation, so why should I be front and center when he’s awarded an induction into an entity I don’t believe he deserves.
My mother wanted us on speaking terms.
She didn’t mention it had to be an amicable relationship.
“Wow,” Summer breathes out when we slip into the back of a decked-out Rolls Royce. Her voice is still pitched with her earlier embarrassment, but not enough to rein in my annoyance when she adds, “This is nice.”
“It’sbribery. He’s trying to buy his way back into my life.”
“It’s still nice,” Summer mutters, incapable of seeing the bad in people even when they’re deserving of the title. After scooting to my half of the plush leather seat, she gathers my hand in hers. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to be a grouch all night. You walked in on me naked, so if anyone has the right to be cranky, it isn’t you, mister.” Clearly, her ruffled state had her failing to notice I was sitting while drinking in her naked form. I didn’t catch the last innings. I watched the entire fucking game with my tongue hanging out of my mouth. “Furthermore, the only time we get dressed up is Halloween, and you always make me go as a water boy, so let’s relish the opportunity to look nice.”
“Robert Boucher, Jr. is one of Adam Sandler’s best characters,” I defend. “The Waterboyis a classic.”It also keeps you away from the slutty outfits your sorority sisters constantly shove in your face every Halloween.“It also keeps us themed.”
“I could go as a cheerleader or a ball girl. I don’t have to dress up as a boy—”
“And I could go as Tarzan with only a leaf for coverage, but we agreed to go as characters fromThe Waterboylike your mom and dad did their first Halloween,” I interrupt, my tone a little harsher than intended. I’m tired from stalking Summer’s bedroom window all night to make sure Three Pump Paul didn’t try and sneak a visit and don’t get me started on other matters before that. I’m a prima donna when I don’t get enough sleep. “It wasyouridea, Summer, so why are you fighting it now?”
“I don’t know.” With a nibble on her lower lip, she sinks into her seat to take in the scenery whizzing past her window. Just when I think she’ll never extend on her answer, she breathes out slowly, “I just thought it would be nice to look pretty occasionally.”
“You look pretty.” When she sighs, I arc up. “You do. Look at you. You’re as cute as a button.” My compliment usually makes her smile, but tonight, it has the opposite effect. Her lips sag downward. “Is it that time of the month? Because the only time you’re this moody is when Aunt Flow is visiting.”
Her eye roll jumps her cute rating straight to sexy. “Aunt Flow isn’t visiting, which I’m sure you are aware of since you had an in-depth perusal of my private parts only thirty minutes ago.” She lowers her voice so the driver won’t hear her. “And who are you to lecture people on their moods when you’ve been a sour grape all afternoon? Anyone would swear we’re about to attend a funeral.”
“Close enough,” I mumble when I realize the last time I stood across from my father was when they lowered my mother’s coffin into the ground. Even calling off his engagement only a week earlier didn’t stop him from attending his soon-to-be ex-wife’s funeral with a brainless bimbo hanging off his arm. “I think I made a mistake coming here.”
“And I think you’re jumping the gun. We haven’t seen hide nor hair of your father yet.”
“I don’t need to see him to understand how fucked in the head he makes me, Summer.” I hold out my hand to show her how shaky it is. “Look at what he does to me. No one will believe I can pitch with hands this shaky, so they won’t give me the time of day when it comes time to prove them wrong. Staying could ruin my career more than having his last name on the back of my uniform.”
“Is thatreallyhow you feel? Or are nerves speaking on your behalf?” Summer asks after settling the shake of my hands by curling hers over them. She has no clue I’m more worried about what he could do to us than my fledging baseball journey, but when I jerk up my chin, she fills in the role of my number one supporter without the slightest bit of hesitation fettering her features. After tilting in close to the partition separating us from the driver, she requests, “Can you please take us back. I forgot something.”
“Thank you,” I mouth when she falls back into the nook of my arm like her seat is miles from mine, too chicken to commend her gallantry out loud.
“You’re welcome,” she whispers back before she rests her head on my shoulder, where it remains until the driver pulls the Rolls Royce near the front stairs of my father’s hideously overcompensating house. “Give me a second to grab my backpack, then I’ll meet you at Cubie.”
Summer’s mouth falls open when I say, “Do you mean this?”
Her smile is breathtaking when I lift the bag I packed in a hurry while she was finalizing her makeup from the floor of the Rolls Royce. That’s how I walked in on her naked. I was organizing our departure before our night had truly begun—before I saw her naked—because I knew even then that beauty isn’t the only thing that draws you to a woman like Summer. She has so much more to offer than looks, and I didn’t want to give my father the opportunity of discovering that for the second time in his life.
