Page 79 of Summertime Friends

His situation is beginning to resonate. Our situations are similar but different. I’m ready to commit to Emerson. I don’t want to be only her summertime friend; I want to be her all-time friend.

“We were at Fabric on Saturday. . .” I tell her about their fight before Beatrix stormed off and how no one has heard from her since.

Emerson is quiet while I speak about the rest of my week

From the shaky video, she’s still walking. The phone’s angle captures her neck and chin. She’s paying attention to whereshe’s going and people watching—synonyms for each other in her world—but I know she’s listening.

She brings her phone in front of her face, a smile appearing slowly.

I stop mid-sentence. “—What?”

“London.”

“What about it?”

“I want to come to London. No big destination. London.”

“Why London?”

“The whole time you were talking, I kept wishing I knew these places. Knew the smells. Knew what the commute to work is like for you. I want to experience your life. Actually, be in it. I want to come to London.”

If I was looking for a way to clear the fog, this is it.

“I’d love that,” and that’s the truth. “You’re coming to London.” And I’m grinning like a fool.

It’s past midnight once we coordinate plans, and my eyes are getting heavy. We’ve been on the phone for three hours at this point.

I bid Emerson a goodnight as she climbs onto her couch with a new book. It’s the one I sent her last week,A Court of Wings and Ruin—some bay boys she’s been obsessed with, but I must admit, the book was quite good.

As we hang up, I can’t pinpoint what feeling is running through my veins.

All I know is Emerson is coming to London for me.

33

LIAM

Three Summers Ago

I’ve wondered what it’s like to be loved by Emerson

I wondered about it when she doubled back for another look at the coffee shop. When she’d send me pictures of her day, in the mornings I’d lay next to her, when she’d send me an annotated book. And when we’d hold hands, always making sure our fingers were interlocked, rubbing the top of my hand with her thumb. I’ve wondered about it for years.

I’ve wondered about it because I want to be loved by Emerson.

I want to come home and kiss her. I want to wake up in the morning and Emerson be the first person I see. I want to go to bed at night and have Emerson be the last person I see. The first and last of my entire life.

I want to be loved by her because I know I’m in love with her.

The ache to have her in my life has become an insistent pounding. My heart beats rapidly, and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. That’s what she does to me. No one has ever had this much control over me, consuming every part of my mind and body in every facet of it—no one but Emerson Clarke.

I called Callum and asked him to grab lunch at our favorite gastropub in Southside. He says yes. I called George to inform him of our plans.

We meet up an hour later.

“Was out with Audrey when you called.” Cal gestures his head in her direction.

“And you so happen to owe me lunch.” Audreykisses my cheek.

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