Page 54 of Don’t Be A Stranger

I shake my head and kiss her. “I don’t care.”

She does as asked, her grip on my shoulder firming. With each rock of her hips, her knees thud against the wall behind me but she doesn’t stop and I don’t ask her to.

My thighs clench when Summer bites the skin on my neck, part of my shirt balled up in her fist.

I don’t concern myself with anything outside the booth. Not when she whines against me. Nothing exists but her and the pressure building in my lower stomach. It grows higher and higher until I finally come crashing down, cursing her name against her hand.

Shortly after, Summer’s thighs shake and tighten around my hips. She lets herself go, burying her face in the crook of my neck to keep her own moans quiet.

Her hand falls from my mouth and I laugh breathlessly.

“You lost,” she breathes against me.

“Now I’m forced to shower with you?” I tsk. “Bummer.”

***

“Thanks for carrying me,” Summer says from her spot on my back.

I gently squeeze her thighs where I’m holding her in place on my back. It took all of three seconds for her to convince me to give her a piggyback ride to the car. She claimed her feet hurt from standing all day, which I find funny because Summer found every opportunity to not be on her feet as much. Whether that was leaning against me, sitting on the grass, or finding any open seat she could spot. For someone who’s constantly active, my girl has weak ankles.

I maneuver my way through the crowd as best as I can. Most people have stayed behind at the stage Get A Grip! was performing on to take pictures for social media, but Summer and I decided to try and make a run for the parking lot before it became near impossible to get out.

“Thank you for coming with me,” I say.

Summer scoffs. “Why wouldn’t I come? Being outside surrounded by good music with my best friend? Not something that needed much convincing.”

As we get older, I’m convinced that Summer would rather be doing anything than hanging out with me, so I’m still surprised when she says yes to stuff like this.

“Still.” I set Summer down in front of the passenger door of my car. “It wouldn’t have been as much fun without you.”

Watching Summer dance and sing her heart out to Get A Grip! was the highlight of my evening. I didn’t even mind the fireworks eroding into the sky. Not when Summer made it her mission to cover my eyes with her hands, as if I couldn’t just close them to keep from being blinded.

Summer sighs dramatically. “What on earth would you do without me, Jaejoon?”

She presses a kiss to my cheek and patiently waits for me to open her car door. Once she’s safely tucked away in my car, I press my hand to my cheek, as if Summer and I haven’t done far more dirty things within the last two hours than a simple kiss to the cheek. But the warmth her lips left feels more like a silent promise than anything. A promise that she’s willing to stick around. Which is all I could ask for because honestly, I don’t know what I would do without her.

Eighteen

River

It’s a beautiful day out. Maybe a little too sunny outside but my sunglasses make the overexposure bearable. It’s a nice seventy-five degrees out, the birds are chirping, and I’m on my skateboard. To top it all off, Summer is smiling. Which also happens to be one of my favorite things.

It’s not like it’s rare to see her smile but every time she does it, I can’t believe that she has blessed me with seeing that sunshine smile and warm laugh.

Sometimes Summer worries a little too much about school. Swimming. Her dads. Lily. Even me. But I love that part of her just as much as the rest. If there’s no overachieving then there’s no Summer, but it is nice to see her relaxed and not consumed with the idea of needing to always be useful.

I’m always content with Summer just existing.

“You know you’re on a skateboard, right?” Summer states while stealing a quick glance back at me. She complains but continues to pull me along on my skateboard. “Why am I pulling you?”

“My legs hurt.” They don’t. I just like holding Summer’s hand. “So unless you wanna carry me, Pretty Girl, this is the next best thing.”

I wait for her to scold me for the nickname but she doesn’t. And now I’m thinking of other ways I can try to sneak the name in.

Our hands remain linked as she continues to drag me along. I can’t help but smile when I hear her mumbling the lyrics to “Sk8er Boi.”

With it being a little too bright outside for me to drive comfortably and the sun feeling too good on my skin, I decided to just walk to the grocery store.