Page 46 of A Summer Thing

Jude’s soft hum tickles my neck, his lips skimming along the surface of my skin before he adds, “To being more than friends, too.”

“Here-fucking-here!” someone shouts, and we all laugh, our seven glasses of tequila clinking together before we take our shots down as one. Fire sizzles through my limbs, warming my chest—almost as much as the entire experience warms my heart.

______

A few hours into our night, Addy is tipsy, Jude’s friends are tipsier, and Jude is the tipsiest of them all—while I’m pretty much sober outside of the single shot I took with everyone.

It’s the first time I’ve seen Jude drink, though, and I immediately decided I needed to be clear-minded enough to witness it all.

The way alcohol has softened his usually rough words, rounding them out in a carefree way.

The way his cheeks have stayed consistently filled with a warm color of pink.

The way he’s kept rolling his lips together in an attempt to tamp down his permanently-affixed smile.

The way his entire body has loosened, tension drained free from his muscles, and I can feel the weight of his relaxed body on me when he leans down and whispers things in my ear.

Things like— God, I like you so much, Little D.

You smell so goddamn good. I like you. Really like you.

And I don’t like a lot of people. Can I get you anything?

Are you comfortable? Are you having a good time?

I always have a good time when I’m with you.

Fuck, I can’t wait to show you a good time later.

I like you so much, Declan. So fucking much.

Don’t tell the rest of these guys, but you’ve become my best friend.

Truly. Ah, fuck it. I’ll tell them myself—

I stifle a laugh and tug him back into me by the bottom hem of his shirt.

His eyes soften when they meet mine, liquefying, and his smile does, too.

And yeah, this guy with the most beautiful eyes and most devastating smile has become my best friend as well. I wish I could pinpoint exactly when that happened.

It doesn’t matter, though. He simply is.

He shifts his body forward and drags me closer.

And then his lips melt into mine, his tongue slipping into my mouth when my lips part with a gasp.

The world blurs around me like it always does when I’m with him.

Like everything else ceases to exist. Like nothing else matters but this—him, and me, and gravity narrowing in on the space we occupy together.

The hum that vibrates at the back of his throat spills into mine. “You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, Little D.”

I smile, my lips curving against his.

“Your mouth.” He kisses me again, deeper, harder against my lips.

“Your skin.” He places a lighter, lingering kiss to the base of my throat.

“Your pussy,” he murmurs against my mouth as he kisses me again, pressing into me, and his words are a little louder than he realized because Antonio barks out a laugh from where he stands behind him.

“You, my man, are hammered.” He claps a hand over Jude’s shoulder with a wide smile stretching his lips. “And also, very enamored.”

“Three sheets, and in way too fucking deep,” he quips back quickly, his tone playful, but when his gaze reaches deeper into mine, sincerity settles between us.

In way too fucking deep, his words echo, whispering in every corner of my mind.

That’s exactly how I feel, too. Plunged into an entirely new ocean of feelings for him, and I’m not sure which way is up or down.

I’m just trying to catch the tide, trying to find the current and roll with the waves, to get a grasp on my emotions before I lose myself in the ocean of my feelings for Jude completely.

______

Addy might be entirely sloshed at this point, but she’s been holding her own in darts, much to my own, and everyone else’s, amusement.

I can’t stop cracking up at the way she wildly and unpredictably throws her darts toward the board yet still manages to hit near where she’s aiming for every time.

Jude’s friends have officially nicknamed her Little Chucker.

And a Chucker is, apparently, someone who aimlessly throws their darts at the board. Which would certainly be Addy.

I laugh even harder when her next dart centers in on the bullseye and Nick throws his hands into the air with a shouted, “Bullshit! How the fuck—”

“Alright, alright!” Antonio cuts in with a deep laugh. “You owe the girl another fifty dollars. Don’t be a whiny bitch about it, just hand over the dough.”

Nick grumbles something under his breath about needing another shot, before handing over the cash and stalking off toward the bar.

I’m still laughing when Jude nudges my side, his head tipped toward the front doors.

I follow his line of sight and suck in an audible breath when I spot Boss making his way through the crowd of people.

His imposing form is impossible to miss, so when Addy glances over, too, she sees him right away.

Immediately, she bursts into tears, her hands rushing up to cover her face and muffle her sob.

Boss strides toward her like a man on a mission. There’s only a handful of steps between them before he reaches her and sweeps her off her feet and into his arms, murmuring something low into her ear that none of us can hear.

She hiccups with soft cry, throwing her arms around him, burying her face into his neck with a repetitive nod.

With that, he hefts her closer, kisses her deeply, and carries her out of the bar with a wink thrown my way.

And then they’re gone.

Just like that.

A smile tips my lips. I’m not sure what just happened, but I’ve been Team Boss from the very beginning, and the way he just stormed into this bar after traveling halfway across the country to claim back his girl, only has me rooting for him more.

It’s the perfect way to end the night.

______

It’s a few days later when I’m at Jude’s place.

Or Jude’s room, at Elijah’s place.

We started a movie a while ago, but we got caught up talking—about life, and this upcoming year—and now the end credits are rolling up the screen.

Jude’s arm rests beneath his head, his flexed bicep sinking deeper into his pillow as he gets more comfortable. “I leave next week,” he says, and the reminder pierces like thorns into my skin. “But I have no intention of ending this, Declan.”

My mouth opens with a response, because of course we can’t end this, but he continues with, “You were adamant about not doing the long-distance thing this past year. But it’s different now. We’re different. And I know it won’t be easy, but with us, I believe it’s possible.”

He’s right. Things are different. Not just between us, but with me, too.

“I think so, too. And I really, really want that, too.” The corners of my mouth lift in a soft smile.

“Yeah?” He shifts infinitesimally closer.

“More than anything.” I nod.

His lids grow heavier, his smile sleepier. “I’m falling for you, Little D. It’s fucking terrifying.”

The light pressure of tears rushes forward behind my eyelids, contained only by my deep, intentional breaths. My heart swells, and its beats swim through my limbs, and I’m scared, too, but I have to tell him— “I’m falling for you, too.”

His face brightens between one second and the next.

The sleepiness that hangs over him evaporates into thin air, and he lifts himself up onto his elbow, leaning closer as the mattress dips down between us and forces me closer, too.

“Yeah?” he asks, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth. His smile gets caught up in there, too.

I nod, my throat swelling, too many emotions flitting through me to catch a single one.

His smile escapes the confines of his teeth, and then he tilts closer, and his lips land on mine.

The feel of him, the taste of him, the scent of him…

all brush up against my senses at once. The smooth expanse of skin and muscle and Jude beneath my fingertips.

Mint and sweetness on my tongue. It’s overwhelming, consuming, taking my heart in a firm grasp and squeezing tightly, until every single one of my synapses are firing the same thing— Jude, Jude, Jude.

I swallow, a hum escaping my lungs, and he consumes the sound before echoing it back at me.

He slips his tongue into my mouth and swirls it around mine, beckoning me closer with every flick and slide. I push my body up into his, pulling him closer, writhing against him.

Groaning, he shifts himself above me and sinks deeper between my legs.

His hardness presses into my core, and heat unfurls within me, the buzz of anticipation humming along the surface of my skin and dipping into the apex of my thighs where he pushes himself against me.

I can’t believe we waited all summer to do this —the thought intrudes, because I know exactly where this is headed, and I don’t have any plans of stopping us.

First, there was all the uncertainty that existed between us.

And then there was Jude and his I’m going to date you properly first rule.

And then there was the Fourth of July, when Addy barged in on us and ended our night too soon.

And then finally, there was the other night at the bar, when we didn’t get to do much of anything because Jude was too adorably tipsy—and despite his best, and very tempting, efforts, it didn’t feel right to mark that first off after he’d been drinking.

I wanted to savor every moment of our first time together, and I wanted to make sure he was clear-minded enough to, too.

I’d like to go back to every single one of those instances and slap us both silly. Because being with him like this already feels amazing, and we’ve hardly done anything .

“Jude. Clothes. Off. Please, ” I manage between each violent assault of his mouth.

My core pulses with desire, aching, desperate to feel him, to be filled with him.