Page 32 of Summertime Friends

“I don’t think she will.” Chloe cringes. “Do you want to leave?”

I think about how Liam looked at me last week—the same way I looked at him tonight—a green, ugly monster within us taking over. He was jealous of Brandon’s arm around me and the ring on my finger. I’m envious that he was touching Natalie—he is with Natalie.

“I don’t think you should,” Chloe answers for me. “It might be awkward, but whoever or whatever Liam is to you shouldn’t matter. Not tonight. We can deal with it tomorrow. Tonight, let him sweat while sitting there and seeing you happy without him.”

“But I’m not happy.”

“He doesn’t know that.”

“Did you know about them?” I ask hesitantly.

“No.” Chloe shakes her head from side to side. “Promise.”

“Okay. Give me a minute.”

Chloe drops her hands from my shoulders. I turn back around, facing the mirror.

The water is ice-cold now. I place my hands under the faucet and splash water on my face. Using the paper towels, I blot my face dry.

“Let’s go,” I say. Feeling calmer and collected, Chloe and I return to the living room.

16

EMERSON

Six Summers Ago

I don’t think I’ve ever slept that peacefully in my life. Maybe as a child, but the last time I slept through the entire night? I can’t remember it.

As I wake up, the warmth of the early morning summer sun hits my face. Rays are shining through the three large windows adjacent to the bed. The emerald drapes are slightly agape on the furthest window to the left. Sheer curtains open behind them, letting in enough light to pierce my face. The warmth from the sun isn’t what has ignited the rest of my body, though.

Something, or someone, heavy is draped across my stomach. Fluttering open my eyes, I look down to see his arm outside of the covers, holding on to me, pulling me into him. My mouth goes dry, and a self-loathing amount of heat dips low into my core, a prick of curiosity to the rest of who is under the covers.

Tipping my head down, I see I’m in a t-shirt that must belong to him. A wave of relief washes over me that I’m not completely naked. My legs are bare and intertwined with his.

The ending of last night is fuzzy.

I don’t think anything happened except for a few too many drinks—my slight headache is proof of that. What I do remember is that once back at his hotel, Liam made us each another drink. We sat on his couch, talking about nonsense and laughing for hours. It was somewhere around two in the morning when I yawned the first time. When I leaned forward on the couch to search for my shoes, Liam stopped me with a hand on my thigh.

His touch was an electric shock to my body, waking me up.

“Planning to walk back at this ungodly hour?” he asked.

“I’m only a couple blocks away,” I informed Liam. “Thank you for—”

“Stay,” he offered. “I. . . I can sleep on the couch if that makes you more comfortable. I don’t want you out there walking alone.”

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, contemplating his offer. The tenderness and protectiveness of his request released a flurry of butterflies in my stomach.

“Okay,” I said at the same time he offered to walk me back.

A pleased smile formed on his face. Any hesitation I felt about staying was instantly gone.

He showed me which room he was staying in. His two friends from earlier, Callum and George, are staying here also. I thought Liam was joking till we walked in. The place is insane. It is the largest hotel room I’ve ever been in. Liam motioned for me to make myself comfortable before heading into the bathroom to change.

I was looking down at my outfit when Liam reemerged in a pair of sweats and a faded college rugby shirt. My skirt and button-down shirt didn’t exactly scream comfortable sleeping attire, but the idea of sleeping in only my undergarments had my core twisting.

I began unbuttoning my shirt when Liam tossed me one of his shirts from the dresser. “You can wear this,” he said.

---