Page 79 of Summer Love

I jump, enough to slosh a little lemonade over my fingers. That voice…

I turn around.

Ryan. White shirt, sleeves rolled, light beige pants. Leather shoes, a Rolex on his wrist.

We’re on a beach, Ryan.

I’ve only been alone for five minutes. Harper went to grab a hot dog. Maya’s talking with Kai a few feet away.

He saw his opening. He’s standing too close, like he always does.

“You didn’t answer my message,” he says, his tone light, almost teasing.

But his gray eyes aren’t laughing.

I got the text two days ago—an invitation to his place.

I’ve got a terrace with a view of the bay. You should come see it.

I read it, set the phone down, and forgot—or pretended to.

“I’ve been busy,” I say.

“With this fundraiser?”

He keeps the polished smile, but the contempt slips through on the word fundraiser. I don’t answer.

“You’ve put a lot into it, from what I hear.”

My fingers tighten around the cup.

He’s not supposed to know that.

“The invitation still stands,” he says, taking a step closer. “The view’s worth the trip. And I’ve got a very good white chilling.”

His hand settles at the small of my back. I pull away. With him, I’m always the one who has to give ground.

“Ryan…”

“It’s just a drink, Summer.”

I open my mouth to turn him down when a voice rings out behind me:

“Summer! Finally! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Harper.

She comes running over and throws an arm around my shoulders like we’ve known each other for ten years. Her skin’s warm; her arm is firm. Her piercing glints when she smiles at Ryan.

“You going to introduce us?” she says, not taking her eyes off him.

Ryan looks her over, head to toe. Bare feet, boardshorts, the cut-up T-shirt. His expression stays smooth, polite—but he’s already decided which box to put her in.

“Ryan Caldwell,” he says, holding out his hand.

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Harper Quinn,” she says, and ignores his hand. “Anyway—Summer, you’ve got to come see something. Maya needs you. Urgent!”