Page 129 of Summertime Friends

“I—”

Liam cuts me off with a swift kiss. “You don’t need to say the words. I’m not going to ask or force you to this time. Take your time because I’m not going anywhere. I’m in this, and I love you more than enough for the both of us.”

52

LIAM

Now

Emerson and I went to Traverse City, Michigan, for the weekend. It started as a work trip when our bar manager and cocktail curator-mastermind quit.

Ben was planning on visiting Traverstini, which is known explicitly on social media for its bartender, Flynn. We want him to work for us.

When I told Emerson about the situation, she asked if we could go instead.

We drove up on Friday morning and spent the afternoon and evening with Flynn. Saturday morning, we biked Sleeping Bear Dunes National Park before hopping around wineries in the afternoon.

You should have seen the smile on her face when a stranger randomly air-dropped a photo of us they took. I know she’ll have it printed and in her memory box before Monday is over.

I had forgotten how much I loved traveling with Emerson. Yesterday, I kept picturing the places I wanted to experience with her. I have a list in the Notes app on my phone. Whenever I traveled, I found myself thinking about her. She’d enjoy this café, take a picture of this, want to visit this museum, try this food, and complain about this hilly city.

I’d write down the city, date, and memory in the note, knowing that one day, when we were back together, I would take her to those places and beyond. There isn’t a part of each other or this world I don’t want to explore together.

“States, I’m back.”

I set two coffees on the kitchenette counter of our hotel room.

Walking through the hotel room, I laugh to myself when I hear the music coming from the bathroom. Emerson still has the same shower playlist from when she was twenty-two. Six years later, she hasn’t outgrown her love for young Justin Bieber and 5 Seconds of Summer. It’s cute.

The bathroom door is open, and the steamy air drifts from it. I slide through the gap quietly, dropping my running shorts and shirt to the floor.

I open the door to the shower, but a hand comes to my chest before I can step in.

“What do you think you are doing?” Emerson is smirking at me. The hot water runs over her. I watch as a droplet hits her chest and runs between her breasts. I have an urge to lick it off her.

I take a step forward, pushing her finger further into my chest. “Going to bathe you.”

“No.” There is a glint in her eyes when they flick down to my dick. Already hard just at the sight of her.

“Why not?” I push my tongue into my bottom lip.

“Thought we could playour game.” Her smirk grows. “Flip the coin. Heads, you watch. Tails, you join.”

Watch what? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen her shower.

“Coin is on the counter by the sink.” She drops her hand from my chest, dragging her pointer finger down my abs. Her nail gently scratches the lines of my muscles, and my body shudders. Emerson stops when her finger is about to reach my dick. Holding my gaze, she runs her entire hand up me. My jaw clenches. Then she gently pushes me back toward the sink.

I grab the coin, flip it, and extend my hand to her.

Heads.

“Looks like you’re watching.”

“I’ve seen you take a shower before, States,” I remind her.

“I’m not showering.” Emerson’s head tilts to the side, eyes burning into mine, as she steps back into the water. Her hand followsthe path the water droplet took a moment ago, sliding it down her chest to her stomach to between her legs. “Feel free to. . .” She flicks me a look.

Oh.

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