Page 103 of No Summer Hotter than You

I still wanted the summer sun to hang low in the horizon as I laid my head on Anthony’s chest in our backyard, staring up at the pink-purple glow of a beautiful summer sunset and listening to crickets chirping along to the soft music playing from our speakers. I wanted to keep laughing over who got the last orange creamsicle and making s’mores by our firepit for old time’s sake. I never wanted to stop laying naked in bed as we explored the maps of each other’s bodies and drew constellations across one another’s skin—in light, lazy strokes—to cool off from the heat.

Summer had long turned into fall, but I couldn’t help that I wanted it back. I longed for nothing but long, lazy days, the blazing sun, and melting popsicles for the rest of this life with Anthony at my side. However, seasons change. Summer was long gone, and Anthony and I were experiencing our first fall as a couple together.

Although it was colder, I didn’t mind all the morning cuddles we make time for. With those said cuddles, Anthony would reward me with slow and steamy kisses. The hot cocoas or warm cups of chamomile tea we’d drink together after a long day of work while binging Buffy the Vampire Slayer was also a nice change of pacing. Summer was crazy busy, but fall was a nice way for us to slow down. I missed summer, but I also love how fall was turning out for us with its chilly weather.

The rain came early this week to everyone’s surprise since it was forecasted to be here next week instead. Anthony insisted on dropping me off and picking me up at work every day. Even though his commute up to the mountains was over an hour—and even longer with traffic and rain—he always made it back to town on time to pick me up.

His wide smile would stretch on his lips when he came out of his truck with an umbrella in hand to keep me out of the rain. Once inside his warm truck, he would quickly pat away the raindrops that got on my jacket like a routine. He was always more worried about me than his drenched wet shoulder and I scolded him all week for it. But all he ever did was look at me with a twinkle in his honey brown eyes before placing a quick kiss on my temple.

I got into his truck in the same fashion today. The heater was on full blast and I hummed, enjoying its warmth. Once our hands were intertwined, Anthony pulled away from the front of my real estate company’s doors. Although his eyes were on the wet road, he continued to place kisses all over my fingers.

“Is it all right if we swing by your parents’ neighborhood for a bit?” I piped up.

He immediately raised a brow at me. “Sure, but what for?”

“I need to show you something,” I said.

“What exactly are you showing me?”

I smiled softly. “It’s a secret.”

Curiosity etched into his expression as he flashed a smirk. “It better be good.”

“You’ll see.”

The neighborhood he and my cousins grew up in wasn’t far from my workplace. As we rounded a familiar corner, all the memories and nostalgia of my younger years came flooding back. And not all of them were good. Growing up, I intentionally spent copious amounts of time outside of my home. Most of the time I was with Julie, Jonathan, and the Hughes twins because I found the love and much needed peace in their homes and presences that I couldn’t find in mine.

Whenever I got into a horrible fight with my mom during high school, I’d pack whatever I needed that day into my backpack and march out of my home, get on the bus, and show up to Auntie Yee’s doorstep in half an hour. Julie and Jonathan always eagerly welcomed me with Andy and Anthony peering at me with the same wide grins on their faces. ‘You finally made it,’ one of them would say as if my place in this world had always been with them.

In many ways, it was true because I always felt more at home with them than at my own house. I had always wished it was true so I wouldn’t have to go back to a place where I never felt like I belonged and where I was never enough for my mom.

Anthony’s brow raised higher at me as he pulled up next to the empty lot he showed me months ago. His breath was heavy as he nervously swallowed.

“Why are we here, baby?” he asked softly.

I paused for a moment as the light rain pitter-pattered softly against the car. Anthony looked at me expectantly, patiently waiting for my answer. I had never told anyone why I spent so much time away from home. Now it was time.

“Anthony, the reason why I spent so much time with Julie, Jonathan, Andy, and you back in high school was because I never wanted to go back home. I hated almost everything about it,” I said, feeling an enormous lump forming in my throat. My chest constricted, making it hard for me to breathe. “I hated how my mom refused to understand me. I hated how she nitpicked at the smallest things I did while my brothers could get away with anything. The only place I felt loved and cared for at all was with you four. As the years passed by, you all became my home—my place of refuge and where my heart was. I’ve always wished I was a part of your family or Julie’s because I wished your parents or Auntie Yee were mine. I love all of you so much, Anthony.”

My eyes began to burn as my vision of Anthony with knitted brows and a teary, pained gaze became fuzzy. His hands found mine and he soothingly rubbed my cold ones, warming them up.

“Months ago, you said you wanted to build a home together. Let’s do it,” I croaked. “Let’s buy this lot and build this house together. You and me. Our little family of just the two of us.”

Anthony nodded as his hands cupped my face. He rested his forehead against mine. “Shoua, it’s all right. You can cry. I’m right here,” he whispered.

A wobbly breath escaped me and then a whimper. The tears came pouring down before I could even sob. Anthony pulled me into a tight but comforting embrace as I cried into his shoulder. I shuddered out all the pressure constricting my chest until I felt better. I hated that it was raining again. Yet, ironically enough, it helped soothe and calm me.

“Do you want to stop by your parents’ place?” I asked, my eyes still wet.

Anthony shook his head as he wiped my tears away. “Nope. Let’s just head back home and warm you up, baby.”

“Y-you sure?” I hiccupped.

“Certain.” He smiled before kissing me on the cheek.

When we got home, we changed out of our damp clothes into comfy sweats and matching fuzzy socks. Within minutes, Anthony handed me a warm cup of hot chocolate he made from scratch with a mountain of whipped cream exactly like how I liked it.

He plopped on the couch next to me and threw an arm over my shoulders to pull me closer to him as I sipped my drink. He adjusted the throw I placed over his lap as we sighed into the couch.

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