“Nash.” I don’t even get a chance to view her face before she buries into my chest with my arms looping around her.
“He was just trying to help.”
Her quiet cry is killing me, and her puffy eyes that slides up to me don’t help. “I know. He’s always done everything to be there for me. I just feel guilty because the only thing that seems to be helping is...” She hiccups a sniffle. “You.”
I soothe her back and bring her to my chest. Her favorite pillow, even if it’s soaked in tears. Kissing the top of her head, I’m conflicted, too. “We’re figuring it out,” I assure her.
“He wouldn’t see it that way. It’s a constant battle of following what everyone expects but wanting to scream that there is another way that’s helping me. Gluing tiny pieces together. It’s fucked up too, because it’s only been a few weeks since you’ve been here, and we were quick to fall into one another’s arms.”
My body tightens, reminding myself that I’m in this with her, and we’ll unravel to where we are supposed to end up. “Summer, you just have to… Our little world, remember that, okay? For now, that’s what helps, and in time it might make sense.”
Summer reluctantly nods and grips my shirt to ensure shecan’t let go with our eyes, confirming that we need one another.
The sound of steps startles Summer, and she steps back to smooth her hair.
“Sorry.” Her brother is holding Bo and seems to struggle with words. “Bo seems to need a new diaper.”
Summer wipes away a tear with her wrist. “I’ll just take him straight to bed. It’s time anyway. Besides, I’d rather do that than listen to you grill me about why I’m crying.”
Keats hands over the baby to Summer with sympathy etched on his face. “I was going to let you off the hook tonight. Plus…” His eyes brush a quick glance in my direction. “It seems you don’t need me for that.”
Protectively, Summer holds Bo tight to her body and kisses his cheek. “Just go downstairs and eat before it gets cold.”
“Stop being a pain in my ass and not eating your dinner. It’s not even peas, it’s a warm eggroll calling your name,” he rebuffs.
Keats is fond of her, and their back-and-forth is something that Zac and I used to have. Maybe a twinge of jealousy hits me that Summer still gets that with someone.
We both let Summer escape, and Keats and I share a look of understanding.
We even sit in silence while we attempt to eat. I guess we’ll be adding more leftovers for tomorrow.
“Be honest with me. You and Summer are more than roommates.” His eyes remain fixed on his fork, playing with his food. “It’s obvious.”
I collapse in my chair because apparently my body was tense walking on eggshells.
He continues, “Here’s the thing. If it helps her smileagain, then fine. But just remember that it’s easy for her to be confused right now. Once the cloud clears, then what?”
Biting my inner cheek, I’m doubting whether I’m in the hot seat or being offered an olive branch. “What if she is the one also clearing my cloud?” I challenge.
It grabs Keats’s attention, and he doesn’t blink as our eyes meet. He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he stands. “Tell Summer that I’ll see her tomorrow morning for breakfast at the Dizzy Duck.”
“Okay,” I promise.
“Just her and me.” His tone is short.
I stay quiet and give him a weak salute as he walks past me, before both of my hands come to my face, and I laugh bitterly to myself.
We sitin the middle of the bed with Summer’s legs wrapped around me as she sits in my lap. I can’t stop caressing her cheek, her scar, her hair, brushing kisses everywhere I can without breaking our embrace. We’re naked and tied up with a blanket around our middle; it seems like we’ve been here for a long time, and perhaps we have.
Summer drops her head to my shoulder. “Tell me something happy.”
“Hmm, where should I begin?”
“A memory.”
My lips stretch as I recall one. “You used to love these chips, sour cream and onion. It was after one of my game days at the end of the season, and we were going to watch a movie on my couch. I think we were making out or something, but when you laid back, there was a bag of your chips, and you completelyflattened them. Your back was covered in that sour-cream-and-onion smell. It was all over my sofa, and it took like weeks to get that smell out. Your shirt was completely ruined and had to go into the washing machine.” I chuckle under my breath.
She smiles against my skin. “Then you gave me one of your shirts to wear and… it was the same one you gave me when I was eighteen. You didn’t even realize.”
