Page 56 of Don’t Be A Stranger

“Alright then.” I pull my sunglasses down a bit to see if I can handle the light in here. I indeed cannot. “Let’s go get those Nutter Butters.”

***

Thatcher Creshaw stands at about six feet tall. He’s not built terribly large, almost the same size as me if not a little bigger, and he plays golf for fun.

I’m not usually a fighter but I think I could take this guy.

For whatever reason, Moose decided that he didn’t want his annoying younger brother on his team, so he stuck him on me and Summer’s. Then Moose ended up taking Thatcher’s friend, Chris, onto Bethany’s and his team.

I’m pretty sure it’s because Thatcher sucks ass. In more ways than one.

Summer has been sitting next to me for the past hour, but I get up for five minutes to head to the bathroom, and now Thatcher is sitting right next to her. In my spot. Entirely too close.

I don’t like the tightness that consumes my chest. Or the shaking in my hands and the buzzing in my bones.

I used to think it was just because I was protective, but then I realized I never felt the same way about Lily.

Sure, if someone was around that made Lily uncomfortable, then I’d do what I could to get her out of that situation, but I’ve never wanted to physically assault someone before. Thatcher will probably win but I’ll still try anyway if he doesn’t move his hand from Summer’s thigh.

I’m now sitting on the recliner because Thatcher didn’t make an effort to move and to my surprise, neither did Summer. She remains by Thatcher’s side. Maybe what’s irking me about this whole thing is that I know Summer can handle her own. She can be one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met until you push her the wrong way. So, to have Thatcher press up against her and for her to not tell him to fuck off, makes me believe that she likes it.

Summer is laughing and smiling, warming up the room.

And well, damn. I’ve been selfish enough to think that those things only belong to me.

“River?” Moose chucks a pillow at me. “Dude, you’re first player. Hit start.”

I rip my gaze away from Summer and try to focus on the TV screen. I clear my throat. “Oh, yeah, sorry man.”

I try really, really hard.

But my attention keeps drifting toward Summer and Thatcher. The two aren’t even paying attention to anything but each other, laughing at god knows what. My heart is thumping in my ears, far too loud for me to make out what they’re saying.

My jaw clenches.

I’m not an idiot. I understand the feeling I’m experiencing right now. I can pinpoint the fact that I hate Thatcher touching Summer, and that she’s allowing it. And then I’m angry at myself because Summer has the right to do whatever she wants, but Thatcher can’t just come in and take what’s left of the summer with my girl.

I get another pillow chucked at me. Moose looks at me as if I committed treason because my character has stopped moving altogether. My grip on the controller tightens and now I have an audience to my pouting.

I should be more embarrassed than I am but when I take another look at Summer, she’s not confused or worried. An amused grin is present on her face. And then her tongue swirls around the sucker that she’s been sucking on for the past twenty minutes.

“Is everything okay, River?” Bethany asks, genuine concern in her voice.

I clear my throat again and set the controller down. “Yeah, sorry. I just think that the TV settings are hurting my eyes a bit.”

Fantastic. Now I’m lying and using my light sensitivity as an excuse.

“Shit.” Moose’s eyes widen. “Sorry, man. Why didn’t you say anything?” He reaches for the TV remote and starts messing with the screen settings.

I really shouldn’t continue being an ass by letting Moose mess around with something that is perfectly fine for my eyes. It’d probably just make it even harder for everyone else to see, but instead of saying any of this, I look back at Summer to find her already watching me.

I swallow the lump in my throat, now uncomfortable in my jeans. Then Summer decides to slowly pull the sucker in and out of her mouth while staring right at me as Thatcher continues talking. I don’t really care enough to tune in to know what the hell he’s yapping about. Something about his car he’s fixing up or something. I couldn’t care less, honestly. Not when Summer makes a show of the candy’s stickiness on her lips while Thatcher’s hand is still on her thigh.

“I’m going to head to the bathroom,” Summer says out of nowhere, but she’s still not breaking eye contact with me.

Thatcher squeezes her thigh and grins. “Need any help in there?”

Chris laughs, stirring his friend on but Moose doesn’t seem amused at all. He reaches over Bethany to flick his brother’s forehead.