Page 13 of If the Summer Lasted Forever

CHAPTER TWELVE

“Is that him?” Landon asks, almost as surprised as I am. Almost.

“Yeah,” I focus on Landon’s shirt though all I want to do is run back to the Suburban, beg him to take me home.

I knew I’d have to face him again, but I wasn’t ready. I don’t know if I’d ever be ready.

“What’s he doing?” I hiss at a whisper. “Has he spotted me? How does he look?”

“He looks short,” Landon says mildly, readjusting his hold on me.

“You know what I mean.” I give Landon a rueful look. “And besides, you’re at least six two. Most everyone is short compared to you.”

Landon’s lips quirk in a wicked half-smile. “Six-two and a half .”

“And proud of it,” I tease, though my heart isn’t into the playful banter at the moment. I peek at Thomas, trying not to be obvious about it.

“Hey, Lacey?” Landon asks.

“Yeah?” I probably sound distracted because I’m searching for Thomas’s girlfriend. According to Paige, she’s supposed to be in Gray Jay too.

Landon waits before continuing, apparently wanting me to look his way. Feeling his eyes on me, I finally give in and transfer all my attention to him.

He leans close. With his breath tickling my jaw, he asks, “Do you want me to kiss you? To make him jealous?”

I open my mouth to say something—I have no idea what —when Landon winds a hand through my ponytail, caressing his fingers against my neck in the process.

“O…okay,” I finally manage.

It’s a show—I know that, but I find myself forgetting about Thomas. Landon moves closer, tilting his head, his eyes locked on mine. His breath is fresh, minty, and I absently wonder if he planned this.

My stomach tightens at the thought, and my pulse jumps.

“How’s this?” Landon whispers just as his lips tease mine.

“Fine,” I murmur.

“Do you think he’s noticed?” Landon’s free hand is on my waist, nudging me closer but giving me the freedom to step away. But I don’t want to step away.

I shift closer, mimicking Landon’s unhurried approach even though every inch of me tingles with anticipation.

Still, he doesn’t kiss me, not yet.

“Well?” I ask, my voice more breathy than impatient. “Are you going to kiss me or not?”

Landon groans, and his fingers gently dig into my sides. It’s a soft sound of restraint, but it lights a fire in my chest, makes me want more. I breathe in his clean scent, forgetting about the people around us, focused only on Landon and his hands and lips and mouth.

Kiss me already.

“Lacey!” Gia calls, her voice as sweet as syrup.

I close my eyes, loathing her more than I ever have in my life—which is saying something.

With a small smile—perhaps even a frustrated smile—Landon pulls back and turns to Gia and Thomas. He keeps me close, gently tugging me to his side, and he wraps a sweetly possessive hand above my hip. The move is so perfectly executed; I almost believe we’re together.

This is a dangerous ruse.

“Thomas,” I say, working up a great big fake smile. “Hey.”

He and Gia walk our way. My ex looks decidedly uncomfortable, which I rather like. But even though we didn’t part on good terms, I’m willing to pretend it’s all water under the bridge if he is…which is a lot easier to do with Landon’s arm wrapped around me.

“This is Landon,” I say.

Landon gives Thomas a cool nod—not rude in any way, but not exactly friendly either.

Gia shifts her weight, eyeing Thomas. What’s she doing with him?

He played her just as much as he did his girlfriend and me.

Maybe it’s easy to be quick to leap back in when your heart was never involved—and judging by how quickly she started dating after Thomas left, I think it’s a safe bet to say her heart never had anything to do with it.

If she has one. Which I’m not convinced she does.

“So, you’re back,” I say to break the uncomfortable silence that falls over us like a thick, fleecy blanket of awkwardness.

Thomas looks exactly as I remember him—dark hair, fair skin, delicate complexion that makes him appear aristocratic and a bit haughty. He’s striking.

But now I see him through Landon’s eyes, and I’m noticing things for the first time. He is sort of short—only a few inches taller than I am. His blue eyes are pretty, but they’re usually scrunched in a way that makes you wonder if he’s looking down on the whole world.

It’s obvious he thinks Misty’s party is below him, so I have no idea why he decided to show up.

“Every year,” he answers, crossing his arms, studying me. “How are you?”

I give him the usual spiel—work’s good. Mom and Mark are fine.

“Where’s your girlfriend?” I eventually ask, tired of the small talk. If the question makes him uncomfortable, so be it. Maybe he’ll leave, and Landon and I can get back to…whatever Landon and I were doing. “I look forward to meeting her.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Thomas says. At least he has the decency to look embarrassed. “Haven’t for a long time.”

A long time? About ten months? Maybe when she surprised him during his summer vacation and found out he’d been cheating on her?

But what about the girl Paige said Gia saw him with?

The question burns in my stomach like an ulcer, but I don’t dare ask.

Gia tucks herself against Thomas’s side, staking a claim on a boy I don’t want. “His cousin Leia is with them this year,” she says.

Yep, that explains it.

The message Gia sends is unspoken but loud and clear—Thomas is single, and she wants him. Well, that’s peachy. She’s welcome to him.

“Sounds fun,” I say, unwrapping myself from Landon’s patient arms and taking his hand. “Well, have a good time.”

Landon follows, no questions asked.

“Lacey…” Thomas calls and then trails off, probably unsure what to say. Maybe it should go a little something like this: “I’m sorry I used you to cheat on my girlfriend and then started cheating on the both of you with Gia.”

It’s the kind of thing you have to say in person because they just don’t make greeting cards for that sort of apology.

Without waiting for Thomas to get his thoughts in order, I give the pair a curt, indifferent wave and pull Landon into the barn.

“Where are we going?” he asks, lowering his voice as if the darkened atmosphere means we should whisper.

“Away from them.”

I cried countless tears over Thomas. I imagined our first meeting all this time—looked forward to it with equal amounts of dread and eagerness—and pictured all the things I would say and do. But actually seeing him again was somehow anticlimactic, unmemorable even.

With Landon obediently trailing behind me, I climb the ladder to the hayloft. It’s not completely dark. Firelight from the tiki torches shines in through the large front window, which is open to the night. I glance around to see if anyone is up here, but it looks like we have the loft to ourselves.

As soon as Landon’s up the ladder, I sit on a bale, waiting for him to join me. Even though it’s been haunting my thoughts all week, I didn’t bring Landon here for the same reason other couples find the space so appealing. I came to escape.

Outside, the music gets even louder, which convinces me that I made the right decision. I don’t feel like being fun and social—that’s Paige’s thing, not mine.

“There’s actually hay up here,” Landon says, sounding bemused by the quaintness of it.

“Technically, this is straw.”

Landon sits beside me. “Are there mice?”

“Scared?” I tease him, though he doesn’t sound nervous. I scoot closer to bump his shoulder—or maybe I scoot closer just to be closer. “Misty has lots of cats prowling the property. I think we’re safe.”

He turns his head, meeting my eyes in the dark. Though I can’t see him well, I can tell he’s smiling that crooked smile of his, the one that makes my knees weak. “I, too, will protect you from tiny rodents should the need arise.”

“That’s very brave of you,” I say with a laugh, and then I look down at my hands, which I’ve clasped on my lap. “Thank you. It was much easier facing him for the first time with you there.”

Landon only nods—maybe he doesn’t know what to say.

This is a weird situation we’ve gotten ourselves into.

We say we’re fake dating, but I’m genuinely attracted to him, and I think there’s a chance he likes me too.

My mind wanders to our almost-kiss, and my pulse quickens.

We’re alone, entirely by ourselves. There’s no reason to kiss him now, not when it won’t help convince people of our ruse. But I want to.

Oh, I want to.

“Do you think we were believable?” Landon asks.

“Hmmm?” My eyes are focused on the lack of space between us, on Landon’s arm pressed next to mine as we share the bale of straw.

From the corner of my eye, I see Landon look my way. “Do you think we were believable? As a couple?”

Slowly, I look up. Our eyes meet, and my stomach tightens. “I think so.”

His expression is enigmatic in the dark—I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I know what I’m feeling . There’s an invisible cord between us, drawing us together.

He waits another moment before he says, “Maybe we should practice.”

I think he means to say the words playfully, but there’s a dark catch in his voice that tunnels under my defenses. It makes me forget all the sound reasons why I stay away from summer boys, especially ones as tempting as Landon.

“Probably,” I find myself answering, even though a tiny, still-sane part of my brain screams warnings at me, desperately hoping I’ll listen.

But I push those warnings away, smother them while dwelling on sensations instead—the feel of the cold mountain air surrounding us, the flickering firelight, the fresh scent of Landon’s cotton shirt blending with the smell of the straw.

“For the sake of credibility,” he murmurs. We’re close enough his words tickle my lips.

Fully distracted by his mouth, I nod. “Absolutely.”

We wait for the other to change their mind, to back down from the unspoken dare. So much more in tune with my senses in the dark, I can feel my heartbeat, hear each breath Landon takes.

Several moments go by, then a few more.

And then, when I think I will simply die if he changes his mind, he wraps a warm hand around the back of my neck, and our mouths meet.

It’s a testing kiss, the tentative kind that starts slow but builds until it takes your breath away and makes you forget your own name.

Landon’s lips are firm, soft, perfect. I angle toward him, tossing my leg over the straw bale to straddle it and reach him better.

His hands settle at my waist, a warm contrast to the cool night, and he pulls me closer still.

For several moments, I forget that we’re pretending—I forget about Thomas and Gia and worrying over Paige. There’s nothing but Landon and the dusky light.

Only voices from below could interrupt the single-minded bliss that is kissing Landon. The two of us freeze, lips only a breath apart, listening. His spearmint-scented breath fills the space between us, and I want nothing more than to meet him once again.

But there’s an abrupt giggle and the sound of shuffling as someone—or maybe two someones —climb the ladder.