Page 7 of Surge of Fire

"Nope, I'm out,” Aydan says, shaking his head.

We reach their cabin, and I hesitate outside. The silence between us feels painful. I've waited three years to see them. Going to sleep seems cruel, but we have a long day tomorrow.

They drop their stuff, and I'm suddenly sandwiched between them, like when we were kids. I give a laugh that ends in a snort. "You guys are idiots."

But they hold me for a minute longer before letting me go.

"We have all summer," Aydan says, and I'm not sure if he's telling us or himself.

I point at my cabin. "And I'm right next door."

A pained look comes and goes on Aydan's face. "Right."

I want to ask him what it meant, but I turn and run for it, not sure I really want to know.

FOUR

Aydan

I feellike an absolute idiot as I unpack my belongings in my new room. I’m going to hear about it from Granger too, that I have no doubt. But the worst part is that Granger understands why I behaved so stupidly. Because he knows the truth, that I'm pretty sure I've been in love with Samantha since the first day I saw her.

Growing up in a small town meant that it wasn't like Sam moved in one day, and I fell in love with her. We grew up as toddlers next door to each other because our moms were friends. Well, Sam’s mom, my mom, and Granger’s mom became best friends. So all of us were pretty much running around the neighborhood together from the time we could walk.

The world always felt more interesting with Sam and Granger in it, but there was some part of me that always knew I saw her differently. That Ifeltdifferently about her than I felt about anyone else.

Granger was my best friend. I'd give mylifefor him. But for Sam, I'd give mysoul.

She'd always seemed to have this strange idea that she wasn't pretty enough or smart enough. With her bright red, curly hair, green eyes, and freckles, she stood out from all the other girls, but she saw it in a bad way. She saw it in such a bad way that she didn't notice the fact that as she grew older, more and more boys noticed the same thing I already had, that she was remarkably beautiful. Not just beautiful, but smart, creative, and incredible.

And yet, I could never do anything to hurt her. As much as I love her, she is also my family. Having a mom as a nurse and a dad as a firefighter, both of whom loved their jobs more than each other and certainly more than me, meant that I had two absent parents. Samantha's mom basically helped raise me. I spent more nights sleeping in her guest room than I did in my own bedroom. So when I started to have strange and confusing feelings for Samantha that grew and grew and wouldn't go away, I did my best to pretend they weren't there. I did my best to ignore them.

Even though I knew deep down I never could.

Somehow, I'd convinced myself that since going away to college and dating and meeting other women that Samantha wasn't as beautiful or as incredible as I remembered. Even though we texted often, not seeing each other made it easier to pretend, to convince myself that I’d built her up in my mind into someone she could never be.

Seeing her today, I wasn't prepared for the fact that… shehadn’tchanged from the perfect woman I remembered. She was just as beautiful and amazing as my memories had told me she was. Although she had, as Granger had sotactfullynoticed, filled out in a way that only a woman could.

And every inch of me was aware of that fact.

The instant I saw her, I realized that all my convincing, all the things I told myself, were lies. Sheisbeautiful. Sheisincredible. She's without a doubt the most beautiful woman I've ever seen inmy life. And that fact hasn't changed. Every single other girl that I so much as looked at faded from my mind the moment I saw her, and it was like I couldn't remember how to speak. I couldn't remember how to just be normal.

And I was embarrassed as hell.

Hearing someone lightly tapping at my door, I turn and see Granger standing in the doorway. He’s the only other person in this world who knows how I feel about Samantha, and I'm sure what I just did amused the crap out of him.

“That was smooth, Mr. Smooth,” he says, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“I already know, all right?” I tell him, matching his level of sarcasm.

Then we’re laughing.

“Every single time I feel bad about getting struck down by a woman, I'm gonna think about today, and it's gonna make me feelsomuch better about myself,” he says between gasps of laughter.

I glare at him, only a little serious. “Was that helpful?”

“Not one bit!” he squeals, taking a whole minute to stop laughing.

My amusement slowly fades. Today could be funny, but it also couldn’t keep happening. One time could be explained away by me having a bad night, or being tired. But the whole summer? I need to do better, or I’ll lose her altogether.

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