Perfect Summer (17 page)

Clint had done more than his fair share of kissing, but this was something altogether different. Summer was hurting and wanted to make someone pay. The gallant thing would be to step back and end it, but for the first time in his life, he was doing the wrong thing for the right reasons.

“The quarterback and the school teacher. How long have you been dating?” Jade Harold’s Midwestern accent came from over Clint’s left shoulder.

Summer jumped back and stared slack-jawed into the bright light of the ESPN news camera.

“Why didn’t you give me the exclusive this morning?” Jade looked from Clint to Summer and back again. “I was here investigating the arrest of a Relay Texas athlete, and the guy at the front desk mentions you.” She grinned at Clint. “And here you are. This explains why you turned down my offer.”

“Jade, this isn’t what it looks like.” Clint moved in front of Summer, shielding her with his body.

“But…” Summer couldn’t help the deer-in-the-headlights routine. Her ex had fathered a child while she was planning their wedding…and she’d kissed Clint. Not only kissed him, but rubbed her body all over him like a wannabe on open pole night. The irony was amazing. The stripper who had broken up Summer’s almost marriage was now the married, respectable one.

And Summer was still…pathetic.

This was tenth grade chemistry all over again, but on a grander scale. Instead of Mr. Prachett reading the note about her secret crush on Josh Sharpe, quarterback of the football team, to the class, now the whole world would see her groping Clint Grayson. She wanted the ground to open up and suck her down to the level of hell reserved for the terminally stupid.

But God had crueler plans.

Tears burned her eyes. Summer hadn’t cried in front of another human being since that awful day in tenth grade because crying made her an easy target. This resolve was the only reason she’d kept her head held high after the Jack breakup. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. Now she’d lost the only ground she’d ever conquered.

Clint put his hand over the camera. “Stop.”

“This is gold.” Jade rubbed her hands together in anticipation.

Summer knew her type. She was another mean girl who wanted to make fun of Summer because she was chubby, dyslexic, and awkward. Life never moved beyond high school. The hairstyles might change, but the embarrassment endured forever.

“I’m getting you out of here.” Clint grabbed her elbow and pulled her to the closest exit. “I’ll fix this.” He threw open the door to the stairwell. “I’ll do what I can to keep you out of it.”

“That would be best.” For you. Summer swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. She blinked several times and took a couple of deep breaths. When she got home, she’d allow herself a good cry, but now she needed the illusion of control.

“The damage will be minimal.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

“Just blame it on me.” What else did she have to lose? Her dignity had gone bye-bye as soon as his lips had hit hers. He’d been doing her a favor, and she’d turned it into a lap dance. “The fat teacher with poor impulse control. Laugh it off. I’m used to it.”

She tried not to sound bitter as she stomped down two flights of steps, Clint close on her heels. There was no way this was turning out well for her. All she wanted to do was go home, crawl into bed, and stay there until the world stopped laughing at her.

He opened the door to the parking garage. “What are you talking about?”

Did he want her to dive under the bus so he didn’t have to throw her?

“That golden reputation that brought you to my door. I’m not the actress with whom the world expects to see you. When this gets out, people will react in one of two ways.” She took a deep breath as she stepped into the parking garage. “Either they will laugh at you because they think you’re dating a loser, or they’ll assume you’re a real humanitarian who felt sorry for the fat girl and threw her a pity fuck.”

His eyes flashed at her language.

Summer snorted. Really? He thought the most appalling part was the F bomb?

“I teach high school. I know all the good words.” She rolled her eyes and pulled out her truck keys.

Clint wrenched the keys from her hand, unlocked her door, and opened it for her. “Is that what you think?”

Summer smiled. He had a good heart even if he didn’t believe it. “It doesn’t matter what I think.”

She climbed up, closed the door, and rested her head on the back window.

The passenger’s door opened, and the seat cushion bounced as he plopped down. His door slammed shut.

“It matters to me.” His words were clipped. Summer looked at him. A vein popped out at his temple, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

Was he angry?

“While I’d rather have people laughing with me than at me, being the butt of jokes is such familiar territory you could call it my neighborhood. I’ll live.” She shrugged. “After five minutes of infamy, my life will fade back to normal.” She patted his knee. “Thanks for what you tried to do. You’re a sweet man and an amazing kisser.” She shoved the key in the ignition. “People like me get burned by the limelight, but for you, it’s a necessary evil.”

“I don’t give a damn about me. I’m trying to save you.” His tone was hard.

“From what?”

“The media.” It sounded like
you idiot
. “You have no idea what it’s like. They’ll hound you, park outside your house, go through your trash, and follow you everywhere. You deserve better.” It was an accusation, not a statement.

Summer backed out of the space. “You’re a good person.”

“No, I’m not.” He shook his head. “I’m using you so I can get a hundred-million-dollar endorsement deal.”

“Wow. Good for you.” She pulled out into five o’clock traffic.

“You should be appalled. I’m appalled for you.”

“Please. We all do things we don’t like for the greater good.” Like agreeing to marry an asshole after she found out he was cheating on her. “Besides, I’d be offended if you’d sold me out for less than fifty million.”

“Stop being nice. It’s starting to piss me off.”

“Do you want me to yell?” Summer downshifted for a red light. “I’m not much of a yeller, but I could say ‘fuck’ a few more times and watch you blush.”

“You’re hopeless.” He pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. “Does anyone stay mad at you?”

“My mother hates me. Then there’s Jack, but now he hates you too, so I doubt he’d be much help.” Clint was concerned about her. That was a new one. “Thanks for worrying about me. No one ever worries about me.”

“Get used to it.” Clint turned in the seat so his back was against the door and watched her. “Your name would have been Summer Dew?”

“Don’t start.” Laughter was so much better than crying. Laugh and the world laughed with you…cry and they knew how to hurt you. “My initials would have been SAD.”

Several beats of silence made her glance over at him. He looked at her with something close to awe.

“You are perfect.” He sounded sincere, but experience had taught her that sincerity was fleeting.

They both knew he was being kind…and he needed her help. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that nice was the right play for him. Still, it felt good that someone cared.

“Did you take a hit to the head when I wasn’t looking?” She zeroed in on his eyes. His pupils were normal.

“Perfection is an illusion.” She stared straight ahead because his direct gaze was making her uncomfortable.

“What did he do to you?” Clint said with more curiosity than concern.

The uneasiness in her stomach coalesced into a twenty-pound lead weight. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Clint was a friend; still, she didn’t talk about her feelings even with friends. Everyone had his or her own problems. They sure as hell didn’t need her to moan about hers. Revealing too much was painting a big, red target on her back.

“I’ll talk about mine if you talk about yours.”

“Yeah, I’ve been wise to the I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours since the third grade. Not falling for it again.” Summer cranked down her window, and the seventy-degree March afternoon blew into the truck.

Clint took a deep breath.

“I’m shy, and talking in front of people makes me nervous...and weak. My father didn’t do weakness. Football won’t last forever, and I need this endorsement deal because my days in the NFL are numbered. My father made and spent his fortune, twice. I went from a fleet of nannies wiping my butt to moving in with my aunt and uncle because the bank foreclosed on our house, and then in high school, my father was back on top. The roller coaster ride wasn’t pretty. I won’t let that happen to me…ever. With this deal, I’ll be set for life.” He said it all on one long breath.

“Considering your glossophobia, it takes courage to want to spend more time in the public eye.” She said. “Just so you know, you’re really good at it.”

“What?”

“Public speaking. When you’re just chatting with the students and your guard is down, and you’re not over-thinking things, you’re very good at it.”

He smiled like a little boy who’d just gotten his first pat on the head. “Your turn.”

“I didn’t agree to anything.” The twenty-pound lead weight in her stomach slam-danced against some friends. Being pathetic was one thing, but talking about it with someone who’d never experienced the state was something different. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” Clint tapped his temple. “I’m smarter than I look.”

“It’s not a question of intelligence but frame of reference.”

“I don’t understand.” Clint shook his head.

“Exactly.” Tears burned the inside of her nose and clogged her throat. Not now. Not in front of him. She blinked several times, but her eyes filled anyway. He had owned up to his fear. It was time for her to do the same. But how did she explain imperfection to someone who was perfect? “No one has ever looked at you and only seen what’s wrong.”

Her voice didn’t shake. That was something. “You are handsome and smart and charming—when you walk into a room, people notice. When I walk into the room, they look away.” It was an unwritten rule that pretty people got the best in life while the overweight and unattractive were relegated to the cheap seats.

“Go on.” He looked so sincere. She wanted for him to understand, but words didn’t adequately convey the depth of worthlessness felt by those who would never be on “Team Pretty.”

“You dress like you hate your body.” He was giving her an opening, trying to be sympathetic.

“I do hate my body, and if you ever saw it, you’d hate it too.” She tried to make a joke, but it fell flat.

“I doubt that.” His voice was even—not mocking or condescending. “You’re curvy.”

“You’re myopic,” she countered without thinking. Sarcasm was her go-to when it came to her weight. Keep it light and funny so she wouldn’t get hurt.

“My eyesight is better than twenty/twenty.” He was serious…so serious. Why didn’t he just laugh so they could change the subject?

“Of course. Everything about you is extraordinary.” Summer waited for him to take the bait, but he kept on watching her. Leaning against the door, she stared out the window and drew into herself as if she could make herself take up less space. “Do you know how hard it is to talk about this with you? You’re smart and funny and beautiful and talented. I’m fat. As my mother says, the world isn’t kind to fat people.”

“You’re not fa—”

“Please let me finish. When I met Jack, I’d given up on ever finding someone who loved me for me regardless of the way I look. At first, he was flattering and charming. He never missed an opportunity to remind me of how lucky I was that he was with me. Then the little digs started. ‘That’s not a good color for you’ or ‘wouldn’t these pants be more flattering?’ Slowly, he chipped away at me. It’s not all his fault; I let him get away with it.”

“Why?” Clint took her free hand and laced his fingers through hers.

Mortification swallowed her whole, but she needed to finish. “He was my first boyfriend…my first everything.”

Admitting that was worse than a lifetime of fat jokes. Summer worked up the nerve and glanced at him. The shocked horror on his face doubled her pain. In five short minutes, she’d turned his sympathy into pity.

“Never mind.” She turned into the school parking lot and pulled into the first available space. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I know this won’t come as a surprise to you, but Jack is a real jackass,” he said.

His pity was eating away at the fragile bit of courage she’d mustered. “Stop looking at me like I’m pitiful.”

Clint shot her his lopsided smile as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back. “Remember when I fell asleep in your class?”

“Vaguely.” Summer rolled her eyes. Was his plan to cheer her up by making her feel worse? Maybe it was a hair-of-the-dog therapy technique—immerse her in bad memories until they didn’t hurt anymore.

“It was your mouth.” He kissed her first knuckle and glanced up at her from under his impossibly long and perfect lashes.

“My mouth put you to sleep?” As long as he went on kissing her hand, he could insult her all he wanted. His tongue traced her second knuckle.

“I was daydreaming about your mouth, and when I closed my eyes, there you were, naughty lips curled up in a sexy smile. From the first moment I saw you, I wondered what you tasted like.” Clint’s eye contact never faltered. No trace of laughter or sarcasm. His mouth moved to the third knuckle. “I’ve wanted you since day one. Now that I’ve tasted you, it’s a thousand times worse.”

Heat should have prickled every inch of her body, but the only heat was coming from the tears rolling down her cheeks. Clint was trying to make her feel better. He was just another well-meaner telling her she was pretty on the inside and that was all that mattered.

Realization dawned, and he straightened. “You don’t believe me.”

Scooting closer, he traced a tear’s path down her cheek.

How did she make him understand that his kindness was tearing her apart?

“Make no mistake, the fact I like you as a person has nothing to do with the fact I’m so fucking attracted to you I’m not above ripping off your jeans and chewing through your panties.” His voice was husky and hard-edged. Kindness and sympathy had no place here—he was serious.