Page 56 of The Summer Plans

I don’t have any time off left to get out there to take care of the inevitable list of items Summer will insist need to be done. You’re doing me a favor. Just be nice to her. She’s been through a lot.

If she only knew how nice I really want to be to her. Leg-shaking, mind-numbing, multiple orgasms worth of nice.

And I already had Bella talk to Hardy so you could have the next week off too.

What the fuck, Raven?

Do you know how much shit the guys are gonna give me? Probie has to have his big sister schedule his PTO.

Who cares what they think.

I love my sister, but there’s no point arguing with her. I never win.

I believe what you mean to say is thank you, Raven.

Thank you, Raven

I type the words angrily and have to delete and retype several times when my fat thumbs keep tying “Raceb” instead of “Raven.”

Now I need to work up the courage to go over to Summer’s gate.

CHAPTER 17

SUMMER

This is my least favorite part of the summer, when the kids leave to visit Todd’s family. Once their plane takes off, I walk over to my gate, take a seat, and stare at my phone. Flipping through my pics is the best medicine for the loneliness. Seeing their smiling faces, some posed, some candid, fills me with joy and sadness. It’s easy to assume that being a divorced single parent means you get every other weekend off and plenty of child-free time while your kids are with your ex. But that’s not our situation, I don’t get weekends off, not that I’d want them anyway. Instead, I get a whole summer without my kids, and I hate it. It’s good for them to see their dad and grandparents, I tell myself. And I know they’re taken care of, but I really miss them when they’re gone.

Movement in my periphery catches my attention, and I look over to see RJ running through the terminal. What is he doing?

“Summer!” RJ calls, waving his arms like he’s desperate to get my attention.

I wave back awkwardly, standing as he approaches. “You’re going to miss your flight.”

He stops in front of me and takes me in as if he hasn’t seen me for years instead of hours. His chest expands rapidly as he tries to catch his breath.

It’s impossible to look away with the way he’s drinking me in, but I break eye contact, glancing behind him. “What’s wrong? Where’s Sophie?”

“On the plane. It was her idea.”

“What was her idea?” I give him a curious look. What is he doing?

He takes a deep breath as if what he’s about to say is hard for him. “Don’t go.”

“What?”

“Don’t get on the plane.” He’s still panting, slightly out of breath.

“But—”

“I didn’t get on the plane, and I don’t want you to get on your plane either.”

Blinking several times, I try to make sure I’m hearing him correctly. “What are you talking about?”

“Stay. Stay with me at the house.”

“But I need to get home. My flight leaves in an hour, and it was the only flight left. And the only other one to Denver left just now.”

“I know, Sophie was on it. I was supposed to be on it. But I’m asking you to stay. You make your own hours, don’t you? You could take another week off. You don’t have the kids, they’ll be with their dad. And I’m staying here and I want you to stay here with me.” His hand cups my cheek and I lean into the warmth of his palm. “For a week. I know we need to talk, and there’s so much history between us. Give me the week. I know you feel this.”