Page 2 of My Summer Girl

Shock and heat hit me at once. My face feels warm. I turn toward him, our mouths nearly touching as I respond. He jolts back as if I’ve invaded his space. “As someone who has known me my entire life, would I be someone—”

“Yes,” he immediately interrupts and I gasp, gripping my chest, theatrically feigning offense. He’s right and lets me know it by rolling his eyes. The room quiets as he squeezes my shoulder in kind. There’s a comfort there. Warmth. He’s my best friend and isn’t scared to call me out when I’m dramatic or in the wrong.

“You’re one who often gets bored. When that time arises, you do drastic things in hopes of being sated.”

“I feel like you’re attacking me,” I grumble with a pout, folding my arms over my chest. A little chuckle escapes before he leans down once more. His lips brush my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. For some reason, for as long as I’ve known him, my thorns have never seen him as a threat. Even now, when he could easily hurt me. He wouldn’t, and my thorns recognize that, but they’ve never even attempted to fend him off.

Traitors.

“If this is something you truly seek... Something that’s forever and binding under our magical laws, then I’ll do it. I’ll do anything you ask without question.”

“Yet, you’re questioning me,” I sass, sighing. No one glances at us, but if they did, they’d note just our normal banter and nothing out of the ordinary. Being suave and unaffected isn’t our style. We’re young and were raised without too much guidance. They shouldn’t have given me the reins so early on if they wanted mature.

Raevar sidesteps me to kneel, facing me head on. He doesn’t back down, his gaze penetrating my own. They scan me, going from left to right as if trying to see how I’m going to react. Anyone in this kingdom would think twice about challenging me, but he’s never backed down. To him, I’m simply Verano Reyes. Not the queen of Solera.

Today, his hair is in a bun, sporting the cut sides of his head and the little scars scattered there. He’s quite fetching. Maybe he’d get too distracted seeking what I need. They’d fawn all over him and then I’d never find my mate. Something burns in the center of my chest at the thought of it.

That wouldn’t be acceptable.

“I question you only because I care. You’re not simply my friend, Vera. You’re my queen. Someone I’ve dedicated my entire life to. This person—” He pauses, holding my knees now. “—whoever they may be, needs to sacrifice it all and be worthy to rule by your side.”

The backs of my fingers glide against his cheek, then his jaw—a gesture I don’t offer to anyone but him. “I respect and love that about you. But I think it’s time to settle down.”

He shakes his head so casually, finally standing with a huff of acceptance. “So be it.” His voice deepens, the emotions heavy there. However, he doesn’t let it show for long, acting as if he’s unbothered. “Where should I start?”

“These gossipers mentioned a place named Vex.” I reluctantly stand too, motioning my head to the side. While we like goss, having others hear ours isn’t fun.

He follows me as we go into the corridor, unwatched and unmanned. “This place is apparently where half our court seems to have found people to love.”

“Half?” he questions. “That seems a little suspect, considering I’ve never heard of it. Is it an off-world realm or maybe some wild love potion?”

With nonchalance, I shrug, trying to think of what the women might’ve not said. “I’m unsure, but if they’re all having the best luck, maybe that’s how you’ll find my person.”

Raevar grimaces, scrunching his face a moment as if in pain, then clutches the pendant that resides over his chest, his knuckles changing color from the intensity. It’s a necklace, one that links him forever to me, our vow unbreakable.

“I’ll create a port-path.” The resignation in his voice isn’t the normal charming and confident Orukna I’ve known my entire life, but I don’t question it. Maybe the solstice is getting to him too.

Raevar’s magic—or rather, the Orukna’s—comes from realm shifting. They can create jumps within space, time, and any reality of their wishing. Something that’s never quite made sense to me, even if Raevar has attempted to explain it more than once.

“Very well,” I say with an exhale. “Be careful. I trust no one for this job but you.”

His gaze softens, his cheeks darkening once more before he leans in, kissing the top of my head. Lingering, he inhales deeply before breaking away. It’s familiar, comfortable, and it reminds me that my home will forever be wherever he is.

“Anything for you, mi media naranja,” he promises, leaving me with a tightness in my throat. One day, he better tell me what that means. He’s been saying that to me since we were teens. Raevar only really speaks his mother tongue when he’s angry, excited, or to his abuelita.

It’s never fully conversational outside of those moments, and when I asked him why, he said his parents never taught him. The brokenness in his speech makes him sad and ashamed.

There are days where I wish I knew the language, knew how to communicate and help his confidence grow. However, he won’t teach me, and aside from him and his abuelita, the language is sparsely spoken in my realm, lost to time.

He walks away and my eyes trace every step. To many, his massive frame is daunting, but to me, it’s all I’ve known. Realizing he’s going to be away has my stomach clenching with discomfort. In all the years we’ve known each other, we’ve only been apart on a few occasions. He’s my shadow, someone who protects me even before himself and his own family. I’m not sure what brought him to be as loyal as he is to me, but I’ll forever be grateful for his place at my side.

Hours after he left, I found myself absorbed back into planning. This time has to go perfectly. Making lists ground me, and the prep one is a mile long. This is the first solstice without my nan. Without her guidance and her exuberant efforts to keep our family and kingdom’s traditions alive.

Now it’s only me. My parents are gone, I’ve never had siblings, and to continue this line and this custom we’ve created, we need to pass it down.

Only a Reyes knows how to make it perfect. I’m the last descendant and hope.

Exhaustion meets me as my hands shake. After hours, I’ve finally finished chopping wood. “To lose some pleasures,” I begin, reciting the words I was taught as a child. A prayer of sorts, even if I see it as more of a promise.

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