Summer's Fun (The Boys of Ocean Beach 2)

He licks his lips and his eyes dance in the shadowy light. “I’d make my move. Slide my arm around your shoulder. Lead you back behind that dune. Hope I’d get lucky.”

I snuggle under his arm and ask, “Want to go back to my place instead?”

Before he kisses me again, he says, “Hell yes,” and this time I lead him back to the dunes and through the darkness.

6

Justin

I follow Summer through the dunes, back to the car, and across the bridge like a heat-seeking missile. Her blonde hair guides me like a halo and she moves quickly, completely unaware of her effect. I can’t believe a year ago I almost let her go because of my own hang-ups. I would have missed out on all of this. On her.

I kiss her in the dunes, against the Jeep, at the stoplight blinking by the pier. I kiss her against the tree outside her trailer, against the smooth metal door, and again once we’re inside.

Her hip bangs against the table and my head grazes the ceiling, but I don’t stop. She doesn’t stop. When her knees hit the edge of the bed, I push her hair out of her face and say, “Thank god you came back.”

Her forehead furrows. “You didn’t think I would?”

I don’t know how to tell her what it was like over the last nine months. Missing her. Craving her. I doubled down on my studies—hanging out with Pete, who understood. I ignored every other woman that walked past me, my thoughts solely on Summer, two states away. I thought about her when I laid in bed at night, on the way to class, in the shower. And now she’s here and we’re alone. I don’t know how to say all of that without sounding desperate and lame, so I just kiss her sweetly, then harder until she pulls me on the bed.

I don’t know how to say the words but I show her. I show her how thankful I am for her. How much I care for her, and give her the biggest ‘welcome back’ a guy can manage.

7

Summer

Justin has to be at the marina early, so I watch him from the bed as he dresses, pulling on the same shirt and shorts as the day before. His hair is a disheveled mess and his blue-green eyes are still sleepy. He vanishes into the tiny bathroom and I lay on the bed, listening to the early sounds of morning at the trailer park. Ms. Dorothy, from next door, is outside walking her dog—talking to him the whole time.

I also listen and smile as Justin struggles in the tiny bathroom but comes back out, running a hand through his hair.

“Thanks for letting me crash,” he says, climbing over the bed.

I hold up my hand. “If you come back over here, I may not let you leave.”

He sighs. “I may not go, and then Bobby would see my Jeep out front, track me down and drag me out of here anyway.” I blinked, processing that information. He frowns. “What?”

“Your Jeep. It’s out front.”

“Uh, yeah. We drove it home last night.”

I jump—no scramble—out of bed and race to the door, blocking Justin.

His eyebrows rise to the top of his forehead. “Babe, what the hell are you doing?”

“You can’t go out there.”

“Why not?”

“Ms. Dorothy will see you and what will she think?”

“She’ll think about how much she loves me and offer me an apple fritter.” He tugs on his hoodie.

“I just…”

He frowns and shifts closer to me—not like there’s much room in here already. “What’s going on?”

“It’s hard, publicly, to juggle you all. I feel weird about it. Like I’m a little...”

“A little what?”