Summer by Summer (12 page)

“Don’t move, please.”

Summer’s body tensed for only a heartbeat, and then relaxed against me. But her eyes stayed focused. She forced the barrier of her shyness away and looked right into me. And there we stayed for a long time. Her eyes on me, mine on her. Neither of us speaking, neither of us moving. Just . . . looking.

I’d had my fair share of girlfriends. I’d spent a good bit of time lip-locked with one party girl or another. I wasn’t a virgin. But I’d never ever experienced anything as intimate as this. Maybe it was the island, the fact we were all alone and our survival depended upon each other. Maybe it was Summer. Her fierce desire to be resilient and her ability to do it in the face of such monumental odds.

I’d spent plenty of time looking at girls. But I can’t say I ever really
looked
at a girl. At least, not like this. Everything about her was incredible. From the way she walked to the freckle on her ankle. It was all genuine. It was all Summer. No pretense, no games. No trying to be someone else. It was just her. And that caused a new kind of hunger. Deep. But willing to wait for her. Summer wasn’t the kind of girl who would rush into anything. This I knew.

But I could control that part of me that wanted to claim her. Of course I could. I wasn’t a beast.

Summer

I’d almost thought Bray would kiss me. But a part of me was thankful when he didn’t. There’d been a long sigh, a sad-ish smile, then he’d moved, and that was my cue to stand. My hair was dry and felt like it had after I’d spent the day at the spa. Every nerve ending was alive and prickly, and when the wind blew I thought my head would combust. I reached with both hands and scrubbed my scalp. There. Nerve endings tamed, at least for now.

“I think I got out most of the tangles.”

I nodded, pulling the hair over my shoulder and examining the ends. “If college doesn’t work out for you, you could become a stylist.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Nah. My skills are for you only.”

Something hot shot right down to my gut. I swallowed and tried to ignore the sensation, but it lingered, little sparks shooting from a frayed wire. I needed to change the subject. “I’m hungry.”

“Me too.” But there seemed a bit of irony in his tone. I ignored it.

Fact was, Bray was a really cute guy who probably could get any girl he wanted just by batting those dark blue eyes and flexing those biceps. And . . .

We were on an island together. Alone. Him and me. Problem was, I wasn’t emotionally available, and maybe easy hook-ups were okay with him. They weren’t okay with me. Ever. But Bray wasn’t pushing for that. He was just being . . . nice. And though the honesty about trying to get his folks to send me home cut at my heart and certainly my pride, I understood. Now, more than ever, I understood the importance of family. I had a great one myself, even though they didn’t have all the details about Michael and everything that happened that night or after. They tried to support me. As much as I’d let them.

Bray didn’t have to tell me. He chose to, and that warranted respect. Even if he’d called me vanilla before he knew me, even if he’d come to defend the honor of a party girl and not me, Bray and I were here. And maybe we were even both growing a bit. Changing a bit.

But I needed to be careful, because this Bray I could really like. I needed to remember that it was only the island that brought us together. And one day we’d leave the island and return to who we each were. Which meant I couldn’t let this —
any
of this — happen. Because, with Bray acting so sweet, so concerned, and so much like my hero, if I wasn’t careful, he could ruin me. I wouldn’t spend the
rest of my life scarred by Bray Garrison. No matter how convincing he may seem at the moment.

We could be friends — nothing more. It was then I remembered another promise I’d made. A purity promise. I hadn’t thought about it for almost a year. But now, here it was, reminding me. Like there was any need. I’d never go there with Bray.

“I’m going to roast these before we eat them.” Bray made a little pocket over the fire with a few rocks from the jagged section of beach off to our left.

I smoothed a section of sand by the fire using several dry palm fronds as a broom. Makeshift bed. When I finished on my side, I’d do Bray’s. “Why roast them?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what kind of nuts they are, and some are poisonous raw.”

I stopped what I was doing.

Bray’s mouth slid into a smile. He really had the most intriguing smile. It lit his whole face and made the deep blue of his eyes dance.

“You must be a dentist’s dream.” Oops. Hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

One brow rose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You have perfect teeth.” I busied myself with the broom. “I’d think you would be good advertising.” I was instantly aware of Bray blocking the sun, hovering over me.

“Is that all I am to you?” His tone was teasing. “A piece of meat?”

I gazed up at him. “Of course not. You’re also good for fetching water.” I pointed to the cooler. “Go get some water, piece of meat.”

“No respect,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

I hollered after him. “And when you get back, bake those nuts and fan me with a palm frond.”

He stopped at the edge of the forest. “This isn’t a dictatorship, you know.”

“Of course it is,” I teased. “I already voted.”

He shook his head. “You don’t vote in a dictatorship.”

“Thank you. Glad you know that. Now get to work before I have you replaced.”

He bowed, turned, and walked away, and I giggled. It was the only sound other than the waves. The noise from my own throat sounded foreign. The teasing of Bray sounded foreign, as did the lightness it caused inside me. I used to be a happy girl. But that was before Michael died. I used to hum when I got ready in the morning; I used to dance when I helped Mom clean the house. Music blaring, feet moving, hips rocking, shoulders bouncing. I used to be fun. But that was before that horrible summer and everything that followed. I missed those things. But now, it was like my body was just too heavy to move to music. My throat was too full of pain and unspoken words to sing. And my heart was too heavy to write. I used to write all the time. About everything and nothing. I missed writing most of all.

The sun was low, softer; soon it would be dusk. I sat at the edge of the ocean and watched as tiny fish jumped out of the water. The fire crackled behind me. I heard the crunching of leaves and knew Bray was making his way back to the campsite. I’d created a nice bed for him. After giving him a hard time, I owed him that.

“I hope you didn’t get too bored while I was gone.” He grunted, and I knew he must be carrying the cooler closer.

Why hadn’t he just dropped it by the fire? I snapped my fingers. “You will address me as Princess or not at all.”

Another grunt and I looked up to find the full cooler hovering near my head. “I think I will address you as Drowned Rat.”

“No!” I squealed and tried to get up, but it was too late. The water missed my head, but caught my shoulders, and its icy coldness slapped me from the neck down.

Without thinking about it, I dove for his legs and he landed in the ocean. Somehow, his hand had grabbed my arm and pulled me along. We fought there, both trying to douse the other, both trying
to gain the advantage, both laughing too hard to really care who was winning. Off to our left, the waves splashed against the jagged rocks, but here, the ground was sand — not great for getting a grip, especially if you’re a 105-pound weakling struggling against a rock-solid body. Bray had pulled me deeper and deeper into the water and I was helpless to resist. Years ago I’d learned how to snag someone’s leg and dunk them. Time to sink Bray into the ocean. My leg entwined around his. For a moment, he stopped moving. My ankle hooked his calf and I felt the muscle there tense. His shoulders tensed too, even his eyes. Suddenly, they were fierce and dancing. He was breathing heavily, as was I, and when my chest rose, it brushed against his.

Bray swallowed. It almost seemed he was fighting something inside. Some invisible force that materialized in his eyes then sparked outward, reaching to me. His hand against my spine softened and slid down to the small of my back where all my nerve endings came alive.

Oh.
Oooooh.
This, this wasn’t good. Well, it felt good. Instantly, I was aware of our two bodies riding the movement of each wave. In tune with each of our deep breaths. Eye to eye, chest to chest, my leg twined around his. I needed to move away, but couldn’t. I was frozen. Bray’s face was splashed with water droplets. I watched one slide down his cheek and disappear into the corner of his mouth. I wanted to taste that drop of water. I wanted to touch my lips to Bray’s and see if they were as soft as they looked. His hand on my lower back pressed into me, drawing me closer. My ankle was still hooked around his leg.

I did the only thing I could. I jerked my ankle and knocked him off his feet. He went under. So did I. We both came up sputtering and laughing.

With my two feet planted firmly on the sandy ocean floor, I ran my hands though my hair. Bray shook his head, sending arcs of water in all directions. “I guess I deserved that,” he said.

“I guess I deserved the cooler of water on my head.”

“Have you learned your lesson, Princess?” He reached for me. I reached for him and our fingers twined together.

“I suppose. Really, you only made more work for yourself.”

“What? Having to get more water? It was worth it.”

“Not just that. Look at my hair.” I pulled my hand though it to show him the mess. “I’d offer to pay you to dry it again, but unfortunately, I don’t have any money.”

“I’ll still do it. You can owe me.” His fingers tightened and he drew me closer.

Water rushed up over our shoulders and down our backs. Mine broke out in goose bumps. I could owe him. He’d saved my life after all. It was just a little more added to that debt.

CHAPTER 7

Summer

I gasped in a startled breath, and immediately coughed sand back out as my shoulder was wrenched from my body . . . at least, that’s how it felt.

“Summer! Come on! Wake up!” Through tiny slits for eyes I watched his shadowy body run to the fire and stoke it up.

“Leave me alone,” I muttered, because my body felt like I’d been hit by a truck — which was pretty unlikely given our current address.

“Okay.” There was a playfulness to his tone. “But you’re gonna miss out.”

I stretched. Fact was, I was curious as a cat. “Miss out on what?”

“What I found this morning.”

My mind tried to catch up to the conversation. Coffee. I needed coffee. “Let me guess. You found a mermaid.”

The fire rose, blazing and crackling with the fresh wood. Snakes of flame ran over the bark, devouring it. “Better than a mermaid.”

“Atlantis.” The wind carried the campfire smell to me.

Bray turned and looked down at me. “Better than Atlantis.”

“Oh, I know. You found a
mirror
!” I leaned up on one elbow.

“Very funny, Miss Snark. Maybe I won’t tell you.”

“Pleeeeease tell me.” I’d give in to his ridiculous game if he’d stop being so morning cheery. He reached down and scooped my arm. Before I knew it I was on my feet and finding my balance.

“I’ll show you.” Bray dragged me through what felt like a hundred miles of island jungle. Actually, it couldn’t have been more than a quarter to a half mile, but some sections were so dense, he had to clear and cut as we went.

“You’re lost.” I told him.

“No. I came this way earlier.”

I looked ahead of us at the thick jungle. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I was excited. I didn’t take time to cut back the trees.” He pivoted to face me and raised his arms. That’s when I saw the crisscrossed red welts.

“Oh my gosh, Bray.” I grabbed his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” But he didn’t move away from my examination.

With a gentle touch, I trailed a finger over one of the bumpy red lines. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” But his voice had deepened, like it had in the water yesterday. He
liked
the fact that I was worried about him.

“Okay then.” I
didn’t
like the warm pool in my stomach. “Show me.”

He led me through one last clump of trees and brush. “Look.”

I noticed a path cutting off to the right. A trail. Overgrown, but definitely cut back and large enough for a small car to navigate. “Is it a road?”

“Hasn’t been used for a long time, but something like that.” He pulled me onto the path where the hiking was much easier. “Wait until you see what’s around the bend.”

We picked up the pace and rounded the corner edged by jungle woods. My feet froze in place as I stared straight ahead, unable to move, unable to speak. The large building looked so foreign out here. Overgrown on every side, roof caved in, as if the jungle was
angry and trying to swallow it. Behind this building lay another, equally flooded with greenery and equally out of place. Both utterly deserted. The doorway was zigzagged with vines, and several windows were busted where branches and leaves filled the holes.