Page 39 of Summertime Friends

“I’m assuming I’ll be on floor three.”

“Uh yeah,” I say to her, gaining composure. Looking at the numbers on the two cards in my hands, I note that she’s directly a floor below me. “To the left.”

I tap the key card against the black scanner on the door. It unlocks with a clicking noise and a green light. I hold the door open with one hand while Emerson walks in. Her shampoo invades my nose again as she walks by, leaving her bag in the hallway behind her.

“Could you get that?” She winks at me over her shoulder.

The room is minimalistic, with simple beige decor and furniture. We both walk a few more steps into it. Emerson rushes to the balcony on the opposite side of the room.

“This is breathtaking.” Emerson sighs. Pushing open the sliding doors and stepping outside, taking in the beaches, ocean, and grottos that are all within view.

She turns around to face me, standing on the balcony, the cyan sky behind her, when a light breeze catches her hair, blowing it about. She looks like a beach goddess.

“Almost as breathtaking as you,” I murmur to myself.

“Thank you for booking this place. . . and coming with me.”

“I told you we were already planning on coming.”

Emerson raises a brow. “Your friends gave you away. I overheard them cackling coming back from the bar. You could have told me you wanted to spend time with me, Liam Hayes.” The smile that forms on her face is mischievous before dropping to become grateful. My body ignites with heat and sparks, and I can’t help but smile that I did this to her. I made Emerson smile. “I appreciate it. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“You’re welcome, Emerson.”

It’s the first time I’ve used her name. The feel of it on my tongue catches me by surprise. How my mouth forms to the vibrations of the syllables. Can words have a home? Can a name belong to your mouth and only your mouth to say?

If yes, then it’s her name.

18

LIAM

Now

Natalie insisted that I walk Emerson back to her place when everyone was leaving. I thought she was joking, but she wasn’t.

Selfishly, I can’t help but feel the urge to spend time with Emerson and be close to her again like we used to be. See if she’s still the person I remember when we were. If we can still be them. Learn if there is hope for even a friendship.

Emerson, on the other hand, exudes that I’m the last person on Earth she wants to be around. I watch her leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, head tilted up, glaring at the ceiling.

She turns her head at the worst time. Looking over at us at the right (wrong) moment, Natalie holds onto my waist, standing on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek in a territorial way.

Emerson walks away.

“Make sure she’s okay,” Natalie tells me. I nod.

***

We take the elevator in silence. Outside of Natalie’s apartment, I turn to Emerson. “Lead the way.”

She spins toward the right and gestures her hand.

We walk in silence for three blocks. Before, the silence between us was comfortable. Now, the silence is meters between us.

“How have you been?” I break the silence.

“Good.”

“And work?”

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