Page 82 of Summertime Friends

Different?Probably not the best word to use. I’m actually not sure if there is a difference. I think we blurred our lines a long time ago and became too comfortable with the confines in which we work.

I don’t respond to George. He rolls his eyes and flags down the waiter to clear our plates from lunch and order a final round.

“I don’t know what it is about Emerson. She’s—”

George cuts in. “She’s hot. She’s fit. She’s fun. She’s got a great rump. She makes fun of you.” He’s counting on each finger. “She’s smart. She’s mad cool. She’s hilarious. She’s—”

“We get it.” Audrey stops him with her hand up.

Cal is snickering. “He’s not wrong. Emerson is it for you.”

“She’s more than that. . . she’severythingto me. Emerson lights up my life; she’s the sun around which my every thoughtand heartbeat revolves. There is something about her I can’t get enough of. She believes that I bring out the best version of her, but she brings out the best version of me. Shit, I watched her read for hours the second time I saw her just to memorize her in hopes that—that I’d be able to have her in my dreams. But the opportunity to have her, the real physical her, not only in my mind? It messes me up. I stop remembering how to act. Don’t know who I am. She feels out of reach, slipping out of my grasp, and if she does. . . will I fall off my axis?”

The three of them stare at me—proper shock and amusement on my best friends’ faces. None of us have ever confessed anything like this about a girl before. Callum reaches diagonally across the table and places his hand on my forearm.

“You’ve got it bad for States,” he says.

“I do.”

“Then these words are wasted on us. You should tell her.” Callum locks eyes with me.

“Yeah, I’ll just text her and say I’m in love with you; let’s be together.” I laugh off the vulnerability I’m wearing.

“Maybe something more romantic, but yeah, why not? If you feel this way, why are you holding back?” Audrey encourages me.

Once again, this is why I am glad she’s here.

“Chivalry is still alive?”

“Fair, but—”

“Don’t think she feels the same?” her brother talks over her.

“Yeah.” I frown.

“As the only female present, I’m telling you she does. Knowing Emerson, hell, knowing you two together? You are it for each other.”

“My sister is right. Knowing States, she will want, and need, you to tell her face to face.”

“We aren’t seeing her this summer—” George complains.

I don’t let him finish the sentence. Hadn’t gotten a chance to tell them about the change of plans since Emerson and I decided last night.

“About that. . . she’s coming here.”

34

LIAM

Now

I shouldn’t have called her.

I stared at my phone for an hour before grabbing Natalie’s to call Emerson. I knew she wouldn’t answer my call, but her earlier message was heard loudly and clearly.

Talking to Emerson is immensely intoxicating. She’s always been a drug to me. I’ve never been addicted to anything in my life except her. It’s an addiction I haven’t been able to quit since the first time I laid my eyes on her.

Waking up this morning next to Natalie after falling asleep thinking and dreaming about Emerson is wrong. This line I’m walking is becoming dangerous.

---