Page 4 of Summer Lovin'

“Thanks. It’s been in the family a long—” I bring up my eyes to see someone out of my dreams—the first and only man I’ve ever loved. “Johnny Romero?”

“Julianna Capo—just as beautiful as ever.”

Rosie glances between us. “Romero? Didn’t we go to high school together? How do you know each other?”

My cheeks heat at the memory of how well we know each other. I loved him for two years. I had my first everything with him, and I do mean everything. At one time, I thought I was going to run away with him—but he never asked, and taking him home to my father was never an option. My father would’ve done the closest thing he could’ve done to killing the Romero family by taking the very little they had and leaving them with nothing.

Romero’s lips quirk, and there’s a glint to his eyes, but he shrugs. “We had a few classes together.”

“I thought you left for the military?” I finally find my voice. He looks good, even better than he did when we were in high school—and I thought he was the most handsome boy I’d ever met back then. Dark hair, light brown eyes, tawny skin. He’s taller than I remember, and filled out with muscle that causes his club T-shirt to stretch tight across his wide chest.

His club T-shirt: cHevy Hustlers.

Jesus, if my family sees that, they’ll have a fit. I have to get them far away from my father and the rest of the family as quickly as possible.

“I did. I’m in town for another week before I head off to my new assignment.” He smacks the guy next to him who looks faintly familiar, although I don't remember any guys at our school being as big as he is. “This is Frankie Mercado, and although he went to school with us, he didn’t make attending class a priority.”

“Man, why you gotta sell me out like that?” Frankie throws us a million-watt smile. I’m willing to bet that despite his size and tattoos—which have a threatening vibe to them—he melts women’s panties with that smile. “Ladies, it’s nice to meet you.”

Mercado. Oh god, my father is going to have an aneurysm.

I toss a nervous look over my shoulder, checking to see where my father and uncles are, making sure they’re not paying attention to us or the guys blatantly wearing a rival car club’s T-shirts. “We were just about to walk around and look at the cars. Care to join us?”

“Yeah—” my cousin purrs “—you guys can protect us.” She blatantly bats her eyelashes at Frankie, and I know exactly where her mind is going to be for the rest of the weekend.

Frankie’s smile grows even wider, if that’s possible. “Who’s going to protect us from you?”

She giggles and shrugs her shoulders.

“Let’s go,” I encourage, motioning for them to walk in the opposite direction of my family.

Rosie and Frankie walk ahead of Romero and me.

“You look good, Jules. Or should I call you Mrs. Pareto?”

I suck in my breath. “You heard about that?”

He nods, but keeps his eyes straight ahead. “I read something online.”

“Ah. The infamous announcement.” I roll my eyes. “My father and Peter posted that, but we’re not married.”

“Engaged?” He glances my way as we approach the line at the food truck.

“Not anymore.” I bite my lip, thinking about the last time we saw each other. For half of our junior year and all of our senior year, Romero and I snuck around, spending most of our time stealing kisses behind the lockers or exploring each other in his truck.

We move forward in line, an awkward silence between us. Meanwhile, Frankie and Rosie are chatting it up like old friends. I envy my cousin. She’s always been more confident and outgoing than I.

“Do you like being in the military?” I remember when he brought up enlisting. My heart broke with the knowledge he was willing to leave me behind, especially after everything we’d been through.

“I do. I’ve been to quite a few places around the globe. The job is somewhat monotonous—it’s all about training until the correct response is second nature—but there’s enough change to make every maneuver interesting enough.”

“Where are you moving to?” I tuck my hair behind my ear and look up at him, my heart pounding hard in my chest when I catch him staring back at me in the same way he did all those years ago—with love and longing.

“Colorado.”

“I love Colorado. It’s so beautiful there.”

“I’m about to find out.” He smiles, his hands shoved in his pockets. “What about you? How was college?”

---