Page 9 of One Hot Summer

Chapter Five

ADAM

T he sky above the cabin was incredible.

In the city, I could maybe spot three stars, and one of those was probably just an airplane.

Out here, every inch of darkness was pinpricked with galaxies, with entire cities’ worth of stars crowding in on each other.

I settled back in an Adirondack chair, marveling at how small and fragile I felt against the backdrop of such vast beauty.

Griffin was next to me, kicked back in his own chair with one leg stretched out and his bare foot braced on the fire pit table in front of us.

The small flame added a touch of ambiance rather than providing real warmth, creating a snug and intimate atmosphere on the cabin’s upper deck.

The woods around us thrummed with crickets and the occasional weird hoot or yowl, but none of it sounded threatening. Just alive.

I’d woken that morning, prepared to spend the day alone.

I was sure Griffin would want some time to himself, but instead, he’d invited me to join him on another outing.

We’d spent the morning exploring a nearby town, wandering through quaint shops and sampling local delicacies at a farmers’ market.

The highlight was stumbling upon a tiny bookstore tucked away on a side street, where we both got lost browsing the shelves for hours.

I was touched when he’d insisted on buying me the photography book I’d been admiring.

In the afternoon, we’d gone canoeing on the river, taking turns paddling as we drifted lazily across the calm water.

At one point, he’d leaned up to correct my paddle technique, his fingers wrapping around mine with a gentle pressure that sent electricity racing up my arm and left my skin tingling long after he’d pulled away.

The memory of his touch sent a shiver through me even now.

When we’d gotten back, we made a simple dinner together—chicken, rice, salad—and it was easier this time, the rhythm of our movements more relaxed, as if we’d been sharing a kitchen for years. I’d never felt so at home with someone I barely knew.

Except that wasn’t true, was it? I did know him.

I’d been listening to my best friend talk about his dad for four years.

He was the subject of about one out of every five stories Dalton ever told—sometimes as the hero, sometimes as the punchline, but always looming large.

And now here I was beside him on his deck, sneaking glances at the real version and wondering if I’d been obsessed longer than I realized.

I picked up my glass and studied the fire through the golden liquid before taking a sip. Warmth traveled down my throat, quickly hitting my bloodstream and spreading outward to my limbs. It relaxed my muscles and loosened my tongue. “How long have you been divorced?”

If my question bothered him, he didn’t let it show. “Three years officially,” he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “But it was over long before that.”

“What happened? Oh God! I’m sorry, that was rude. You don’t have to answer that.”

Griffin straightened up in his seat, a soft smile forming on his lips despite my question. “No, it’s okay. Really. I don’t usually talk about it with people, but for some reason, I feel like I can talk to you.” I bit my lip, pleased by his response.

“The truth is, we married too young. I got Sherry—Dalton’s mom—pregnant our senior year of high school, and we tried to do the right thing.

But we were always more friends than lovers.

We loved each other but I’m not sure we were ever in love, if that makes sense.

Still, I tried to be a good husband and a good father.

I probably worked too much. In fact, I know I worked too much, but that was only because I was trying to take care of my family.

I love my career, the business I’ve built, but everything I did was so I could provide for her and Dalton. ”

“That’s very noble,” I said quietly.

Griffin snorted out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, it all ended up backfiring on me. Apparently, my working so hard left Sherry alone too much. She started talking to a co-worker of hers and one thing led to another and…”

I couldn’t stop a loud gasp from escaping. “She cheated on you? Does Dalton know?”

“Yes, he knows. When we sat him down and told him we were splitting up, she actually told him the truth. Of course, she really didn’t have much choice seeing as how she wanted to marry the guy. Given the timing of it all, Dalton would have figured it out anyway.”

“Wait! You mean the guy she cheated on you with was Dalton’s stepdad, Arthur?” I sputtered as I pictured my friend’s stepfather. He nodded. “But he’s such a… and you’re so…”

Griffin’s forehead scrunched as he looked at me. “I’m not really sure how to take that.”

“Trust me, it’s a compliment,” I replied earnestly.

He chuckled. “Then thank you.”

“I’ve met Arthur a few times. He’s a nice enough guy, I suppose, and he and Dalton seem to get along fine, but I can’t get over the fact that they cheated. That must have been so painful.”

He shrugged. “It was, but it was also a relief in some ways. Like I said, it had been coming for a long time. Her cheating was simply the final nail in the coffin.”

I searched his face for a moment, debating whether or not to ask my next question. I wasn’t sure if I really wanted the answer, but my curiosity won out again. “Have you dated many women since the divorce?”

Griffin cleared his throat. “A couple. Nothing serious though. I’ve also gone out with a few men.”

I struggled to find my voice as I processed his revelation about dating men.

My mind was reeling. I had so many questions, but I didn’t know how to ask them without seeming too eager or invasive.

“Do you miss her?” I finally managed to say, though it wasn’t what I really wanted to ask.

His gaze caught mine, blue as worn denim, and something electric flickered between us.

“Sometimes,” he answered softly. “But not in the way you’d think. It’s not actually her I miss. I miss having someone to come home to. Someone to talk to while I’m cooking dinner or watch TV with at the end of the day. I miss the small stuff, the stuff that connects us with another person.”

My heart ached at the loneliness in his voice. It was a feeling I was all too familiar with. I wanted to reach out and comfort him somehow, but I held back, not sure how my touch would be received.

“It’s lonely at home, which is why I’m still spending too much time at the office. In fact, I came here because my business partner and friend, Collin, insisted I take a vacation. He was worried I was headed for a burnout.”

“Were you?”

“Possibly,” he admitted. “I definitely needed a break. Some time to clear my head, gain some perspective, and make a few decisions regarding my future.”

“And what is it you want for your future?”

“I don’t know exactly. All I know is that I’m tired of being alone.”

His words hung between us as I stared up at the night sky.

“I know what it’s like to be lonely. The only difference is, I never had a family to lose,” I admitted softly.

“I was put up for adoption the second I was born; the records sealed on my parents’ identities.

Like I said before, I bounced around from one foster home to another, not quite fitting in, never truly wanted.

I’ve always felt like I was two steps behind everyone else,” I whispered, feeling especially vulnerable next to this man I’d always admired.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that. I can only imagine how difficult that must have been. Is that why you’re killing yourself to try and graduate early?”

I laughed, short and sharp. “Probably. I just want to get to the part where I can stop worrying about being left behind. Finally have something that’s truly mine. Something permanent. Even if it’s only a piece of paper.”

We were quiet again, both of us lost in our own thoughts. The light of hundreds of fireflies sparkled like diamonds in the trees, putting on a dazzling display.

“I’ve spent so many years building something I thought would make me happy,” he finally said, “but lately I’ve been wondering what it’s all for.”

I took another drink then turned my head to find him staring back. For a second, the intensity of his gaze pinned me in place. “Maybe it’s not about what we do in life that’s supposed to make us happy. Maybe it’s about the people we have to share it with.”

Griffin tilted his head, his expression thoughtful as if he were letting my words settle. “You are awfully wise. Are you sure you’re only twenty-one?” he said, grinning.

I laughed, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the whiskey. “It’s true. At least according to my driver’s license. But I’ve experienced more in my twenty-one years than a lot of people twice my age.

He leaned forward, reaching for his drink at the same time I went to set mine back down and our fingers brushed.

A jolt of electricity shot through me at the contact.

I glanced up and found Griffin’s intense gaze locked on mine.

The air between us suddenly felt charged, crackling with unspoken tension.

Almost in slow motion, we both moved in closer.

My heart pounded as I felt the warmth of his breath on my face.

Our lips met hesitantly at first, then with growing hunger.

The kiss deepened, becoming passionate and urgent.

My mind went blank except for the sensations—the softness of his lips, the faint stubble on his jaw, the taste of whiskey on his tongue.

Suddenly, Griffin pulled away, his eyes wide. He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over his glass. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he said, his voice rough.

I sat there, stunned, my lips still tingling from our kiss. “Griffin, wait—” I started, but he was already heading for the door.

“This was a mistake,” he muttered, not looking at me. “We can’t… I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Adam.”

The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving me alone on the deck.

I touched my fingers to my lips, my mind reeling.

What had just happened? One moment we were kissing—the best kiss of my life—and the next he was gone.

I slumped back in my chair, staring unseeing at the stars above.

My heart was racing, torn between elation and confusion.

I sat there for a long time, replaying the kiss in my mind, trying to make sense of his reaction.

The fire slowly died down to embers as the night grew colder.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, I stood up and gathered our empty glasses. As I headed inside, I cast one last glance at the starry sky, wishing I could rewind time to that perfect moment before everything fell apart.

I quietly cleaned up in the kitchen. My mind was still reeling, but exhaustion was starting to set in.

I trudged upstairs, pausing briefly outside Griffin’s closed door.

I wanted so badly to knock, to talk things through, but I knew now wasn’t the time.

Instead, I retreated to my own room. I couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.

Would he pretend nothing had happened? Would he ask me to leave?

As I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, I realized that no matter what happened next, things between Griffin and me would never be the same. That kiss had changed everything, opening a door that couldn’t be closed.