Callum comes back right as I deliver a devastating blow to end our latest game, and I leap up.
“How’re you feeling?” I ask, running to the door and slinging my arms around his waist.
“Relieved more than anything.” He releases a breathy laugh, walking me backward through the entryway and pressing his forehead to mine. “And not to be vulgar or anything, but I could really,reallyuse a b…rewski?” His voice goes up an octave as soon as he spots Nick on the couch.
“Did you join a frat on the way back or something?” I ask as Nick and Callum give each other a wave. “Since when do you saybrewski?”
Callum frowns at me, his face red, and drops his lips to my ear. “Since a second ago, when I was about to fucking ask you for a blowjob right in front of Nick.”
“Am I interrupting your private time?” Nick calls out.
“No,” Callum says.
I rest my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, he’s a good, patient boy.”
That earns me an elbow to the ribs. “Fuck off,” mutters the good, patient boy.
We both laugh and pad over to the couch, and I deposit Callum next to Nick.
“Let me get you that beer,” I offer, handing my controller to my still-blushing boyfriend. “Chill for a bit.”
“Have you played this before?” Nick asks, and he pumps his fist, ready to win, when Callum shakes his head.
I stick around and watch Nick get absolutely smoked. Again. He smacks a hand to his forehead, groaning when the final score pops up on the screen, sealing his latest loss.
“Am I, like, totally inept or something?” he muses.
“Maybe. Or I’m just awesome,” Callum says absentmindedly, not taking his eyes off of the TV.
“No way. We gotta swap controllers,” Nick sputters. “Ian definitely gave me ajanky one.”
Snickering, I leave my best friend to bicker with my boyfriend, and head for the kitchen to get the beer I promised Callum five minutes ago. Leaning against the counter, I take a peek back into the living room to see Nick and Callum gaming and shooting the shit. My heart warms, and satisfaction washes over me.
Summer’s here, my responsibilities have all but vanished, and the next four months are gonna hit different.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CALLUM
Ian and I have traded places.
According to him, I’m always the sleepy one who he’s more than happy to drive around and take care of, but right now, he’s passed out in the passenger seat of his car as I drive us down Route 302 toward his family’s lake house.
Staying up until three in the morning will do that to someone. Last night didn’t start out wild, but the women’s softball team got knocked out of playoffs, Sabrina invited us to the team’s commiseration party, and we all ended up at The Barrel, which interestingly enough, still isn’t ID-ing anyone. Fun times, even when your boyfriend tries to drunkenly lick your face off in front of a hundred other people. At least he stayed sober enough to walk unassisted, and we both crashed in bed as soon as we made it home. Nothing was waiting for us in the morning—no tests, assignments, nothing. Not even parents. Ian’s are in New York, and they gave us free rein of the lake house.
Mine are still in prison, awaiting the trial that’s in nine months.
The GPS beeps, telling me that we’re only five minutes away from the lake house.
Five minutes away from a promised four months of nothing. I know I would have been fine if I had to sort my own life out, but being with Ian and letting my hair down is plain easy. It’s amazing how much my life is better with him in it. He really does wear his heart on his sleeve, no holds barred. For someone like me who’s always been prone to doubt spirals and overthinking, how directly andobviouslyhe loves me is nothing short of perfect—Not a singleday goes by where I’m not grateful for falling into Ian’s life the way I did?—
“Are we there yet?” Ian mumbles, waking up. He stretches his arms, and his left hand makes gratuitous contact with my shoulder. Yawning, and probably feigning ignorance, he proceeds to drag his fingers down my sides and onto my leg.
“Babe, we’re four minutes away,” I say. “Idareyou to keep your horny hands to yourself.”
He snickers, keeping his hand on my thigh. “Ugh, let me love you.”
“You can love me from the passenger seat.”
