Feels Like Summertime (Lake Fisher 1)

I shake my head. “I don’t remember.”

He nudges me. “You do too.”

“No, really. I don’t. I remember other things, though.”

“Like what?”

“Like the snowball fight when he won me over. I had to save him from a whole group of women who really wanted his attention. So I put myself in front of him and took the snowball to the face.”

Jake winces. “Ouch.”

“It didn’t hurt.” I smile at the memory. “It was worth it.”

“I’d take a snowball to the face for you.”

“I know you would.” I bury my face in his neck and breathe in the scent that’s all Jake. “You smell so good.”

“So do you. You used to always smell like Love’s Baby Soft.”

I laugh. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yep. Even now, every time I smell that kind of perfume, my dick gets hard.” He chuckles.

I reach over and take his hand. “Is that happening now?”

He groans and adjusts his big body in the seat. “Change of subject.”

I stare hard at him. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Jake,” I say quietly.

He stops breathing. Then he squeezes my hand and says, “Really now...”

“When summer is over, are we going to write a few letters and then forget about one another?”

He shakes his head. “When summer’s over, I’m going where you’re going, if I can’t talk you into going with me.”

My heart goes pitter-patter. “What if I’m really bad in bed?”

“That’s not possible,” he whispers.

“What if I snore really loudly?”

“I’ll buy earplugs.”

“What if I—?”

“Katie,” he argues, “there’s nothing you can do to turn me off right now.”

Hank lets out a cry from the back seat.

“Well, that might work,” he says. He reaches over and starts the truck. “We had better get home.”

I slide over to my spot and buckle back up. I grab his phone and cycle through his songs. He has a whole playlist called “Katie.” “I like this one,” I say as a new one starts. “We listened to this one when we were washing your car one day. You sprayed me with the hose.”

He chuckles. “I could see right through your t-shirt.”

“It all goes back to the boobs, right?” I laugh too, though. “Hey, speaking of your car, will you take me out in it? Or did you leave it in New York?”

He clears his throat. “About that,” he says as he pulls back out onto the road.