Summer's Kiss (The Boys of Ocean Beach 1)

I groan. “Mason…”

“Summer, I saved your spot and itinerary and I know you still have your ticket and passport. There’s still time for you to come and for us to fix all of this. Come to France with me. If we leave now, we can catch the flight out of Charlotte and you’ll have a week to pack.”

I’m dumbfounded, enough to realize my mouth is hanging open, and I snap it shut. He waits for a response. I can’t keep the incredulousness out of my voice when I ask, “You want me to what?”

He steps forward and places his hands on my shoulders, bringing me into an embrace. “I told you that I’ve ended it with Nicole. I should have ended it a long time ago, before you and I got together. And I never should have lied. It wasn’t fair to you—or to us. Our relationship was complicated. Complex. We shouldn’t have caved to our desires, not while you were in school. But now that you’ve graduated we can try again. A more mature relationship.”

“You thought I was mature enough when you kissed me in your storage closet. You thought I was mature enough when you took me to your house and we made,” I swallow, “had sex in your bed. You had no qualms about taking my virginity, about telling me you loved me.”

“Summer, I don’t regret any of those things. The timing…it was bad. I could have been fired—or worse. I couldn’t stay away from you. You have no idea how tempting you were.”

The world shifts under me. What he’s saying…it strikes home. He wants to blame me for being too enticing, not for him being weak and foolish. “You’re saying it’s my fault you couldn’t keep it in your pants?”

“I’m not going to deny that you’re beautiful, sexy, and incredibly seductive.”

I’m so confused. So lost. It’s why I didn’t want to see him. Mason does something to me. Makes me stupid. Dumb. He’s saying all these things, the right things, but none of his words connect from my brain to my heart. He’s saying them in his preppy outfit, standing on a strip of beach by the inter-coastal waterway, next to a trailer park. My trailer park. He never said them where it counted, in front of my fellow students and his co-workers. Because he couldn’t, he still can’t, because at

the end of the day this entire relationship is wrong—and not just because he’s my teacher. Because he is wrong for me.

I wiggle out of his arms, using my hands to push his chest. “I’m not going with you.”

He looks shocked. “What? Are you serious? You wanted some kind of gesture—this was it.”

“You don’t get it. I wanted a gesture from you when we were sneaking around. I realize now that was to save your job and to keep the peace with your girlfriend. You just want a fuck-buddy on this trip to France. I can’t be that person.”

He frowns at my language. I may have picked up a few choice words from hanging out with four guys all the time. “You mean more than that to me and you know it.”

His eyes are all sad and a tiny spot in my heart tugs for him. I shake it off and say, “You meant more than that to me, too, but in the end, you rejected me to save your skin.”

I race to the boardwalk, hoping to get back to the camper before he reacts, but he’s hot on my heels. He catches me at the top of the stairs. “What’s better here? Mooching off your mom? That trashy camper?” His eyes narrow and he tosses out the question he already asked on the phone, “Did you meet a guy?”

I stop cold. “You don’t get it, do you? You can’t see what a complete and utter prick you are. You need to leave. No one asked you to come and I’m not leaving with you.”

He grabs my arm and I can feel the anger rolling off him in waves. “I left Nicole for you. Do you understand that?”

“All I understand is that we’re over.”

Mason opens his mouth to speak but I push past him and march back to my camper. Halfway there I find Pete standing on the boardwalk, tool box in hand. He watches me and Mason carefully. From his expression I have no idea how much he heard.

“Is everything okay?” he asks in a gruff voice.

“It’s fine.”

My nose is running. My eyes are puffy and red. There’s no way I’m fine and there’s no way he’s going to let this go. But I can’t deal with him now.

Mason has the good sense not to engage him.

My mother is on the patio when I get back and all I say is, “I’ve asked him to leave.”

She may not understand what is going on but it’s enough. Mason rounds the corner of the camper and she steps between us. “Have a safe trip,” she says, unable to say nothing, but points in the direction of his silver sedan blocking our driveway.

His car kicks up gravel as he drives recklessly out of the campground and more than one neighbor steps out to see what the squealing tires were about. I can’t stand to face anyone else. “I’m sorry,” I say to my mother the minute she walks inside.

She frowns and pulls me into a hug. “For what?”

I choke on the words, but it doesn’t matter. She knows enough and without question she gathers me in her arms and rocks the pain away.

Chapter 13