Page 40 of A Summer Thing

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jude

I’m no saint. I’ve kissed plenty of women and have slept with my fair share of others.

But over the past year, I haven’t touched a single fucking one of them.

And that’s not for a lack of effort on their part.

I’ve been propositioned plenty—at Boss’s numerous parties, and at Landon’s, too.

After every game won and even most of those we’ve lost. One girl was even brazen enough to lay naked in my bed, waiting, a fucking bow wrapped around her body—Jameson, Parker, and Williams’ fucked up idea of a birthday gift.

But I walked away from each of those instances feeling like an asshole.

It didn’t matter that Declan and I weren’t technically together, it felt like cheating. It felt fucking wrong.

I haven’t so much as entertained the thought of hooking up with someone since.

As brash as it may sound, I’ve been beating off to thoughts of her instead. Becoming well acquainted with my right hand. Perhaps a little too acquainted.

It might be pathetic, but I couldn’t give two fucks. It hasn’t felt right to pursue anyone else when the girl who occupies my thoughts is right here, halfway across the country ten months of the year but thirty-minutes outside my hometown now that I’m back.

To say I’m feeling needy as fuck would be the understatement of the century, though. Especially now that she’s given me the okay. But admittedly, I’ve still held myself back. Because Declan is the kind of girl you date, who you take out and move through the steps with.

The night we had dinner, I’ve considered our first date, even if the lovely motherfucker I call my brother third-wheeled it half the time.

The tattoo shop—as dramatic as I may have made matters—our second.

The day at the Met, and Central Park, our third.

So that would make tonight our fourth—with the added pressure of bringing her home to meet my family.

My parents. And Thomas, who she hasn’t met yet as well.

It’s backward, I understand, considering how much time we spent together last summer. Or how we ended the summer, to be more specific.

This summer, though, I want to get it right.

______

Two raps sound at my window, tearing me from my musings.

Declan leans down with an easy smile gracing her lips.

She’s wearing a floral dress that hits her thighs, showing off her tanned and toned legs.

The innocent, lacy white socks that peek from the tops of her shit-kicking boots have me holding my breath and counting backward from ten before I can find my composure, exit the car, and open the door for her to let her in.

Her scent drifts across my front with the wind, a sunny day at the beach invading my senses.

She’s worn her hair down, but there’s an intricate braid woven through one side, pulling her pink hair back from her face.

She’s wearing just a touch of makeup, too.

A light sweep of blush and some gloss, the blue hue of her gaze accented by darkened, curled lashes.

Fuck, she’s gorgeous.

She lowers into her seat, clicks her belt into place, and looks up at me.

I crouch down and click her belt right the fuck back out, pulling her out of her seat, dragging her into me, and pressing my mouth to hers.

She hums in response, a smile curving the edges of her lips.

I dart my tongue out and trace the slant of it, before sucking her bottom lip into my mouth and catching it between my teeth.

Four days. Four days too fucking long since I saw her last. If my parents weren’t expecting us, I’d lead her back to her dorm room instead. I force myself to step away from her with the thought.

Her cheeks are flushed when she leans back against my car, tongue slipping from her mouth to soothe the spot on her bottom lip I just sunk my teeth into. “Hello to you, too,” she says sweetly, breathless in a way that sends a rush of heat to my groin.

I shrug my shoulder. “Missed you, Little D.”

She laughs—a quiet, fond laugh if I’ve ever heard one before. “We just saw each other a few days ago.”

“Still fucking missed you.”

That laugh of hers grows stronger, sinking its claws into my beating heart. “Okay, yeah. I really missed you, too,” she admits, and satisfaction coils tight around my limbs. “We should probably get going though, right? I don’t want to be late meeting your family.”

My heartbeat kicks faster, accelerating just looking at her, knowing she’s about to meet my family and realizing how hard I could fall for her in the same breath. “Yeah.” I clear the gravel from my throat. “Let’s get on the road.”

“Oh, wait!” Her eyes light up, and she drags me back into her with a handful of my shirt fisted in each of her palms. “Can we stop for road trip snacks?” she asks, looking excited as hell at the prospect.

A spark of laughter travels up my throat and spills from my mouth.

She could ask for anything while looking at me like that, and I’d willingly give it to her.

“We can stop for whatever you’d like, baby.

Now hop in.” I push a quick kiss to her lips, and guide her back inside the car, buckling her belt in for her before closing the door.

I round the hood and lower into my own seat, turning the engine over and pulling out into traffic.

Declan gets more comfortable in the seat beside me, crossing her legs.

The action makes her dress ride up her thighs, and I pin my stare on the newly exposed flesh.

She catches my gaze, ducking down with a knowing smirk.

I lean over and kiss the bend of it, then slide my hand over the expanse of skin my gaze occupied moments ago, keeping it there as we drive through the city.

Before we hit the bridge and the eighty-seven, I pull into a station so she can grab her snacks.

“Any requests?” She beams as she hops from the car, floral dress rising even farther up her thighs with the movement.

“Not that I can think of.” I shake my head. I can’t keep a single thought straight at the moment. “Surprise me.”

Her blue eyes brighten. “Ooh, fun. Okay, you got it.” She heads into the station while I top off the tank. Minutes later, she’s coming out with an armful of snacks. I open her door for her, and she slips inside, spilling them onto her lap.

“You sure you got enough?” I smirk, sinking into my own seat and clicking my belt in.

“Nope,” she quips. “It’s like the universal law of life—one can never have enough snacks.”

I chuckle. This girl. She’s fucking perfect. “What all did you grab?”

She spreads the smorgasbord of them across her lap and clicks her belt in before I pull out of the station and onto the road.

Holding each item up between her fingers, she lists them off.

“Doritos, Skittles, some beef jerky, two granola bars, Gatorade, water, and a cupcake. Basically anything that sounded good at the moment. A stomachache waiting to happen if we can’t control ourselves.

” She laughs, and the sound punctures straight through my lungs to my beating heart, which would explain why my next breath is so hard to take.

“I can control myself,” I say, but the words are pinched tight and strained.

Her laughter grows louder before stopping altogether. She sighs, tipping closer to me in her seat. “I think a little… less control where we’re concerned would be nice, Jude,” she says quietly.

And she’s right. Too goddamn right.

“Yeah, Little D,” I hum thoughtfully. “I think so, too.”

______

Thankfully, there’s not as much traffic as we expected as we hit the eighty-seven.

We’re headed up to Millbrook—where my parents now live.

They moved upstate a few years ago, selling our childhood home to Elijah after our father finally retired from thirty-plus years in the military and bought my mom the house with the white picket fence she’s always deserved.

Not that she ever complained about the Brooklyn brownstone.

She loved it. But the city was always too damn busy, too chaotic, for a mother of three rowdy-as-fuck boys to wrangle while my father was gone for months at a time on duty.

I love the hell out of my mom, so I’ll be the first to admit we got away with far too much.

My brothers and I put her though a decent bit of hell—especially in our teenage years.

We didn’t turn out half bad though, and that’s a testament to what a great mom she is.

Elijah’s owned his shop for almost nine years now, Thomas followed our father’s footsteps into the military after he graduated high school seven years ago, and I, for whatever asinine reason, managed to snag a full-ride football scholarship at OSU.

We’ve made our parents proud, but I know we aged them twice as fast in our youths, which is why Mom more than deserves the quiet, peaceful neighborhood they now live in.

I give a quick squeeze to Declan’s thigh, grabbing her attention.

I clear my throat. “So, there’s something I don’t think I’ve mentioned before,” I tell her.

I might’ve said something in passing, but I can’t recall.

“My mother is deaf. Dad is hearing, but Mom only communicates through sign, so I’ll be interpreting for you today. ”

Her mouth opens and closes and opens again, a smile blooming on her lips where any words might’ve been.

“It’s nothing to be nervous or worried about, though,” I assure.

“I’m not worried.” She smiles again, shaking her head. “Just wondering why you didn’t tell me before. We’ve known each other for, like, an entire year now.” Her tone feels admonishing, but she seems more amused than anything.

“Not for any reason in particular.” I shrug. "I guess I’ve just always found it strange to go around offering up the information. You don’t typically find anyone else saying, hey, by the way, my parents are hearing.”