Page 31 of One Hot Summer
I didn’t know. I really didn’t. All I knew was that I wanted this, whatever it was, more than I’d wanted anything. “Maybe we just take it one day at a time,” I said. “We figure it out as we go.”
He cupped my face, rough palm warm against my jaw. “You’re trouble.”
I grinned. “You like trouble.”
He laughed, and the sound felt like the first breath after a long time underwater. Then he kissed me. He kissed me like he’d been starving for it. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed back, pouring every ounce of hope and hunger and need into it. He pulled me onto his lap, and I straddled him, our bodies pressed together. His hands slid up under my shirt, fingers tracing the lines of my back. I tangled my own in his hair, tugged him closer, desperate.
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
We froze. My heart stopped as I looked over my shoulder. Dalton stood in the doorway, his face pale, mouth twisted in an expression I’d never seen before: hurt, anger, betrayal, all mixed together. He stared at us for a long second, then turned and walked back inside.
I jumped up to follow him, but Griffin caught my arm. “Let him go,” he said, voice shaking. “If we chase after him now, we’ll just make it worse.”
I stood there, trembling, watching Dalton’s retreating back. I heard the thud of his footsteps on the stairs, the slam of a door. Griffin and I just stood there on the deck, neither of us moving, until we heard footsteps pounding back down the stairs. We rushed inside, finding Dalton in the living room with his duffel bag slung over one shoulder. He stared down at his phone, his fingers flying over the keys.
“Dalton, let’s talk?—”
“Don’t!” he shouted at his father. Griffin tensed next to me, a pained expression on his face as he stared back at his son. “I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Dalton,” I began but he cut me off with a fierce glare.
“I don’t want to talk to you either. In fact, I can’t even look at either one of you right now. Just leave me alone. I called an Uber and they’ll be here any minute to take me to the airport. I’m flying home but I’ll be staying with a buddy of mine.”
His words sliced through me like a knife, tearing my heart to shreds. Dalton was the only family I’d ever had, and he hated me now. My vision swam as he turned and walked out the door. Griffin let out a broken sigh and sat down hard on the couch. I felt like I’d been punched. All I could do was stare at the closed door and wonder if I’d just managed to lose the two people I cared about most in the world, all in one perfect, impossible, fucked-up moment.
We spent the rest of the night in our separate rooms. Every so often I thought about calling Dalton, or texting him, but what could I possibly say? Sorry your best friend and your dad decided to get freaky behind your back? I think I’m in love with your dad but have no idea how he feels about me? Please come back so we can talk about our feelings? Nothing seemed right. So, I just lay there in bed, miserable and lonely. I missed having Griffin’s arms around me. He must have felt it too, because when morning finally came, he looked as if he hadn’t slept either. There were dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and a frown marring his perfect lips.
By silent agreement, we’d both decided we needed to go home. We packed up in total silence. Even the zipper on my suitcase sounded accusatory. The only time we spoke was when Griffin asked, “Ready?” and I nodded, even though I didn’t feel ready for anything.
Griffin arranged for someone to pick up and return my rental car and we took his to the airport, driving in silence. Every few miles, I caught him glancing at me, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out where to start. Once, he reached for my hand on the console between us but changed his mind and turned up the radio instead. I wanted to break the silence, to say something brave or smart, but all my words dried up and stuck in my throat.
At the airport, we barely made eye contact. The security lines were a blur, the flight board a mess of meaningless numbers and cities. The boarding gate was cold and bright and smelled like burnt coffee. I tried to focus on my phone, but my brain was static, and every time I looked up, Griffin was staring out thewindow with his jaw clenched so tight I worried he’d break a tooth.
When we boarded the plane, our seats were together. I sat by the window and he took the aisle, leaving a polite half inch between us, as if the armrest might bite him if he got too close. For the first hour of the flight, neither of us spoke. I watched the landscape slide by below, wondering if Dalton was okay, if he’d made it home safe, if he would ever talk to either of us again. The ache in my chest grew with every passing minute.
Eventually, Griffin broke the silence. “I’m sorry.” I turned to look at him. His hands were clenched in his lap, white-knuckled, and his voice was rough as sandpaper. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I’m sorry I wasn’t stronger.”
I wanted to reach for him, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but all I could do was stare, the words stuck in my throat. He went on, softer now. “I would do anything to fix this, Adam. I’d give anything to make it right with Dalton and between the two of you. But I don’t know if I can.”
I swallowed hard. “We’ll figure it out,” I said, but it sounded empty, even to me.
He nodded, but I could see he didn’t believe it. For a long time, we just sat there, breathing the same recycled air, both of us locked up in our own heads. I thought about all the things I wanted to say: that I wasn’t sorry for what happened between us, that I would never be sorry for loving him.
But before I could open my mouth, Griffin spoke again. “I think it would be best if we… cool things off. At least until we can talk to Dalton. Until we know where we stand.” His eyes were red, but dry. “I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want you to regret any of this.”
It felt like someone had opened a trapdoor under my heart. I couldn’t breathe for a second. “Oh,” I said, because that was all Icould manage. My fingers dug into the armrest, the cold plastic biting into my skin.
He stared at the floor. “I think it’s the right thing to do.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Maybe it is.” But it didn’t feel right. It felt like dying. Like every good thing I’d ever had was being taken away, one piece at a time.
The rest of the flight passed in a blur. When we landed, Griffin gathered his things and paused, just for a second, looking at me with that same lost, haunted expression. I thought he might hug me, or at least say goodbye. But he didn’t. He simply walked away.
I stood there and watched him disappear into the crowd, my heart pounding like it wanted out, like it knew that its other half was leaving with him. I wanted to run after him, to tell him I loved him, to beg him not to let go. But I didn’t. I stayed right where I was, feeling as if someone had just punched a gaping hole in my chest. Because the thing I was learning about being wanted, about belonging, about finally finding your home—is that it hurts even more when you lose it.
Chapter Ten
GRIFFIN
