Page 49 of Summer's Echo
The corner of his mouth lifted into a small, teasing smile. Just enough to soften the corners of my doubt. I offered him the faintest one in return, though I still wasn’t convinced that it would ever be as easy as he made it sound.
“Yesterday, you thought you wouldn’t make it through today,” he said.
I inhaled sharply. “I almost didn’t.”
“But you did,” he countered, his voice firm, “and you’ll make it through tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.”
A deep, shaky exhale pushed through my lips as I sank further into the couch. I hated that he was right. Yesterday, I thought my life was over. I thought my truth would wreck everything—Deshawn, myself, our families. And yet we were all still here. Hurting, yes, but alive. Still standing to face another day to heal the wounds. Echo reached out, tucking a stray curl behind my ear. His fingers lingered at my jaw, faintly tracing up and down.
“I’m not saying it’s not going to be tough,” he said, “because it will be. People are going to whisper. They’re going to ask questions you may not have answers for, but you keep pushing. Keep fighting for what you want, Sun.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, staring at my hands, at the way my fingers trembled against my lap. “I don’t want to make another mistake,” I said. “I don’t want to hurt anybody else.”
I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t say it, but I felt it.
Echo studied me, a fleeting emotion danced with something unreadable before his grip on my knee tightened just slightly. His response was simple, assured. “Then don’t.”
Like a morning alarm cutting through REM sleep, his words hit me, forcing me to acknowledge what I had been avoiding: My dream—my everything—was right here. And I was right on the edge of taking that leap, of finally saying yes to the love I’d spent a lifetime running from. But then…the past reared its head. We had so much unsettled history, so many wounds still lingering between us, and suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to open Pandora’s box again. Because what if this time we couldn’t put the pieces back together?
“But what—” I started.
“But what?” Echo cut in, his voice keen with frustration. “What will people think? What if this doesn’t work? What if we fuck it up?” He closed his eyes briefly, inhaling deeply, as if trying to shoo away the same concerns burdening me. Then, his gaze snapped back to mine, unshakeable and determined.
“Summer, we’ve spent fifteen years pretending we didn’t feel this. Pretending we could just move on and forget what we meant to each other. And look where that got us: You standing at an altar you didn’t want to be at. Me in a relationship that was never going to last.”
His words squeezed at something fragile inside me. “I don’t want to hurt you, E. I don’t want to be hurt,” I said, my voice cracking, on the brink of a cry.
Shaking his head, he said, “Too late. We did that already.”
Then, with a gentleness that made my breath stutter, he took my hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing my palm. I smiled despite myself, tracing the familiar curves and lines of his face with my eyes, memorizing him all over again.
“Today Max asked me if I was going to give you space…or if I was all in.” He massaged small circles into the back of my hand, lulling away my cares. “I told him I was all in, but that’s not fair to you.”
“E…” I practically whined, his words causing pressure to build and build, threatening to spill over.
Without hesitation, Echo reached out, sliding his hand to the back of my head, pulling me closer. With his other hand, he pressed two fingers against my lips, silencing me. His touch was like a song I’d never heard before yet somehow knew by heart.
“You’ve been the only thing I’ve ever wanted.” Emotion clung to his voice. “And I know this is messy. I know you need time.” Then, his forehead met mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, his caress unyielding and necessary.
“I’m going to give you the space you need, Summer, but please understand, I’m going to be pressure. I’m not letting up until you tell me to.”
The thump in my heart had moved lower, deeper, pounding between my thighs. I should not crave this man the way that I did. But when he looked at me like that, searching my face for doubt, for the hesitation that had defined us for years, I knew there was no use fighting it. His grip tightened ever so slightly, his fingers threading into my hair.
“I’m not giving up unless you’re telling me you don’t feel this. If you’re going to act like what we just admitted doesn’t mean something, then say it now because I’m done pretending, Summer.”
A trembly breath escaped me every time he called me Summer. It wasn’t just the way hisrich baritone wrapped around the syllables like a caress. It was the undeniable truth in his voice. When he said Summer, that meant that he wasn’t being casual—it wasn’t just a habit or a nickname. It was a promise, a claim that he meant every time. Lost in the way he said my name, I almost forgot his question. But my body knew the answer before my lips could form it. And then, barely above a whisper, I said, “I can’t say that.”
Something in his gaze eased just enough for me to know he believed me. His thumb brushed against my cheek, lingering there, as if memorizing the way I felt beneath his touch. His voice carried the responsibility of something heavy. “Then don’t run. Not this time.”
I closed my eyes, pulling in a slow breath. When I opened them again, Echo was still there. Waiting. Watching. Wanting. “I won’t.”
And for the first time since we were teenagers, I closed the space between us and kissed him. It was slow and steady. No rush. No urgency. Just the raw, aching sweetness of something we had both lost and found again. I’d kissed my fair share of men since high school, but none of them—not one—ever tasted like this. Because Echo’s thick, smooth lips and his even thicker tongue were always imprinted in my mind. And if I was being honest, I wanted them imprintedall over me.
“Summer, do you want—” The sound of the screen door creaking open followed by my sister’s screeching voice didn’t deter us from the kiss.
“Oohh,pay up, Nette.” Raqi’s voice was smug, layered with satisfaction, and when I finally opened my eyes, I saw her standing there with Annette, both peeking around the doorway like nosy little kids.
“Oh, shit.” Annette snorted, eyes wide before she folded her arms casually. “Well…I guess it’s about time.”
