Page 9 of One Hot Summer
“Perfect,” he declared. “Let’s eat.”
We agreed that it was too nice of an evening to be inside, so we set the outdoor table for dinner and began carrying everything out to the deck. The food smelled amazing, and by the time we finally sat down, my stomach was growling like I hadn’t eaten in a week.
The steaks were delicious, and we were quiet at first as we dug into our food. “I was thinking about going for a hike tomorrow,” he said after several minutes. “Care to join me or do you have too much work to do? I don’t want to take you away from your studies.”
I looked at him and felt the first real surge of excitement since I’d gotten here. “I’m actually way ahead of schedule, so yes, I’d love to join you. But are you sure? Didn’t you come here to be alone?”
“Trust me, I get enough alone time at home.” He laughed softly, but the laughter never quite reached his eyes. Staring at him, I felt a hollowness in my chest. For some reason, the thought of him being alone made my heart ache. I wanted to reach out and comfort him somehow, but I held back.
“Well, I’d love to go hiking with you,” I said instead. “I’ve never really done it before though, so you might have to be patient with me.”
He smiled, a genuine one this time that lit up his whole face. “Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you. We’ll start with one of the shorter trails.”
As we finished our meal, the conversation flowed easily between us. Griffin told me stories about his college days, and I shared some of my experiences at NYU. It felt surreal, sitting here chatting with him like he was an old friend instead of my best friend’s dad. After dinner, we cleared the table together. I tried to steal glances at him when I thought he wasn’t looking, but I wasn’t subtle, and he definitely noticed. At one point, ourhands touched in the sink, and neither of us moved away for a beat too long.
He dried his hands and leaned back against the counter, casually tossing the hand towel over one shoulder. “Good meal.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “Thanks for cooking with me. It was fun.”
He looked at me, something unreadable in his eyes. “It was fun for me too.”
We stood there, a foot apart, not quite sure what to do next. I wanted to say something, but my brain was short-circuiting. He broke the silence first. “Well, I think I’m going to turn in early. I’m a bit tired from traveling.”
“Yeah, I think I will too.” We said goodnight in the hallway, and when I went up to my room, I just lay on the bed, arms crossed behind my head, staring at the ceiling as I went over the events of the day.
I had a problem. Not just a crush, but an honest-to-God, full-body longing for my best friend’s father. A man nearly twice my age. A man who’d never look at me that way. Except, sometimes… I thought maybe he did. Maybe he saw me as something more than a houseguest, more than his son’s awkward friend.
I thought about the way he watched me when I laughed. The look on his face when my shirt had risen up. The way he hadn’t pulled his hand away when it touched mine in the sink. I thought about what it would feel like if he did pull me in, if he kissed me like he meant it. I shut that thought down so hard it gave me a headache. Instead, I told myself I was just grateful for the company. For the laughs, and the food, and the fact that—for a little while—I got to feel like I belonged somewhere.
Chapter Four
GRIFFIN
Iwoke up before sunrise, as usual, the habit of never really sleeping in staying with me, even on vacation. I lay there for a while, listening to the absolute silence, broken only by the rustle of wind in the trees and the quiet cabin settling its bones. I would have given anything for mornings like this in Manhattan, where even at 5 a.m., you could always count on a trash truck to ruin your peace.
I got dressed and padded down the stairs to the kitchen, hoping to get a jump on the day, but Adam had beaten me there. He was standing at the counter, pajama pants hanging low on his hips, a white t-shirt stretched across his back as he leaned over a cutting board, slicing strawberries with precise, almost meditative attention.
He didn’t notice me at first, so I watched him a moment longer than I should have. His movements were fluid, unselfconscious. He really was a good-looking kid. Not in the vapid, Instagram-model way, but in the sense that every musclewas defined by actual use. It made me want to take up running again, if only to see if I could keep pace.
I cleared my throat softly to announce my presence. He looked up, startled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Oh, good morning,” Adam said, his voice still rough with sleep. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Not at all,” I assured him, moving into the kitchen. “I’m an early riser. I’m surprised you’re awake though. Aren’t all college kids supposed to sleep until noon?”
He laughed. “Nah, I’ve always liked getting an early start. That’s why my classes are usually done for the day before Dalton has his first one.”
I nodded. “Yeah, he’s definitely more of a night owl. So, what are you up to?”
He gestured to the cutting board. “I thought I’d make us some breakfast before our hike. Nothing fancy, just some fruit and yogurt parfaits and toast. I figured I could probably manage that much on my own.”
The thoughtfulness of the gesture caught me off guard. “That’s… really nice of you. Thanks.”
Adam smiled, ducking his head slightly. “It’s the least I can do after that amazing dinner last night.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee, inhaling the rich aroma. As I leaned against the counter, my eyes were drawn to the curve of his shoulders as he worked. I caught myself and quickly looked away, focusing on my coffee instead. What was I doing? This was my son’s best friend, for crying out loud.
“So, are you still up for that hike?” I asked, desperate to change the subject in my own mind.
He nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely. I’m looking forward to it.”
