Page 49 of Summer’s Echo

She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t meet my eyes either. Instead, she changed the subject. “What did you say to your dad?”

I drew in a slow breath, steadying myself. “What did my dad say to you?” I shot back, unwilling to let her deflect so easily.

She paused for a beat, fingers tightening slightly around her coffee cup. “He…apologized…I think.”

My brows pulled together. “You think?”

Shrugging, she fiddled with her hoop earring. “In his own way, I guess. But yeah, I’m pretty sure it was an apology.” A short pause followed, then, “He even asked about my parents.”

I relaxed in my seat, rolling my shoulders as I processed that. My father? Asking about her family? I snickered, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Well, damn.”

Summer then tilted her head to the side. “Now your turn.”

I shrugged, my thumb absentmindedly tracing circles over the back of her hand.

“I spent my whole life following my dad’s rules—trying to be who he wanted me to be.

It was a life that looked good on paper but never felt right.

“ Her eyes lifted to meet mine. She knew all too well the pursuit of false perfection. “I told him I don’t want to live like that anymore,” I said steadily and with certainty.

“I want a life that looks and feels perfect, and I told him that was you.”

Her mouth opened slightly, as if she had something to say, but the words never came. I let the moment settle between us before reaching into my bag.

“I have something for you.” I pulled out a box I had grabbed when we got out of the car.

She didn’t say a word as I slid it across the table. But the coy blush in her eyes? That said everything. She untied the bow, peeling back the wrapping paper with careful fingers before lifting the lid of the box. A sharp gasp escaped her, and her eyes misted instantly at the sight inside.

“E,” she whispered. That one letter, my name on her lips, never failed to send a shiver through me.

I bit the corner of my lip, watching her take it in. “I found my sketchbook buried in a box in my closet,” I admitted. “I drew so many pictures that summer, I didn’t even remember this one. But when I saw it again…it just felt right.”

Reaching into the box, I lifted the framed sketch, turning it toward her so she could see it fully.

It was her. Crisscrossed legs on the tree stump draped with a blanket, sketchpad on her lap, lost in her own world.

I shaded the curve of her face, the way her lashes cast delicate shadows against her cheeks, how her bottom lip jutted out just slightly when she concentrated.

The moment was captured just as a cluster of butterflies surrounded her, drawn to her like they belonged there. She was art. She always had been.

She brushed over the edge of the frame. “It’s beautiful, Echo,” she said.

But I wasn’t looking at the drawing. I was looking at her.

I searched her face, trying to unscramble the thoughts running through her mind.

And when her gaze lifted to mine, I saw it…

reverence, care, something deeper, something adoring.

Then, she smiled. That dimpled, breathtaking smile that had owned me since we were kids.

“I prayed last night,” she whispered. “I prayed that this thing…this love between us…doesn’t just exist in memories or in the curiosity of ‘what if.’” Her words rested deep in the cavernous corners of my heart. “I prayed for a second chance to get it right…when the time is right.”

I appreciated her honesty, her vulnerability, and I needed her to hear mine.

“I’m not asking for this to be easy.” I reached across the table, my fingers skimming over hers again. “I’m just asking for you to be mine.”

The moment of silence was charged with something bigger than both of us.

“Here we go!” The waitress’s cheerful voice broke the spell, snapping us back to reality.

Leaning back, I waited as the waitress placed our plates in front of us.

I needed Summer to say she was ready to be mine, but I wouldn’t push her—not now.

So, just like that, I let our loaded past settle into the background, choosing instead to simply enjoy her in this moment.

We shifted into easy conversation, normal banter, something light because the past three days had been heavy enough.

I clung to every word of the woman Summer, just as I had the girl.

We arrived at the airport about an hour and a half before my flight.

I insisted she pull into the garage instead of the drop-off lane.

I needed a moment with her without the blaring horns or the rent-a-cop security waving us along like we were just another passing car.

This moment wasn’t fleeting. It meant something.

I smirked, glancing ahead toward the terminal before leaning toward her.

“Damn. I want to pack you in my suitcase.”

She blushed, but before she could respond, I kissed her.

She didn’t resist. Didn’t hesitate. She kissed me back, hungry and urgent, her fingers tangling into my hoodie, pulling me closer.

Fuck. I had to pull away before I walked through this airport with a damn problem in my pants.

My dick was so damn hard. I rested my forehead against hers, my restraint was slipping by the second.

“Can I trust you, Sunshine…” My fingers found her chin, tilting her face up, brushing my lips there, savoring the moment, “to come to me when you’re ready?”

Her eyes stayed closed, her body still lost in the moment—in me. “Yes. You can trust me.”

I nodded, knowing this was me putting my heart on the line for her. “Check your email,” I blurted out suddenly. Her brows furrowed. “Just do it.”

That damn eye roll—it grounded me in the past and present all at once. A piece of our history that I wouldn’t dare change. She grabbed her phone, unlocking the screen before tapping into her inbox. A second later, her breath hitched. “E,” she said, questioningly.

Sitting there, clear as day, was a confirmation email for a one-way ticket to LA. Sent to her an hour ago. I had known I was going to buy it. I just waited for the perfect moment.

“If you haven’t figured it out yet, this is me…being pressure.” I winked.

She bit her bottom lip, but I didn’t let her keep it for long.

I captured it between my own, stealing back the control—taking what was mine.

This kiss wasn’t slow. It wasn’t careful.

It was needy. Burning. Wild. I tangled my fingers in her hair, gripping tight, desperate and consumed as we pressed harder against each other.

I was ready to pull her across this center console and fuck her right here in the car.

And judging by the way she gripped the back of my head, the way she moaned greedily into my mouth, so was she.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I forced myself to break the kiss, my breaths coming hard and unsteady. “Sun. Sunshine.” My voice was rough, weighted with restraint. “Baby, I gotta go.”

Her swollen lips grazed mine before she pulled away, easing back against the driver’s seat, rubbing her mouth like she could still feel me there. I reached for the door handle, needing to get the hell out of this car before I missed this flight.

“I can drive you around,” she offered, her fingertips skirting against my arm, as if she wasn’t ready to let me go just yet.

I shook my head, forcing myself to be stronger than I felt. “If I don’t walk away now, I won’t let you leave.”

She smiled. It was tender, delicate, and devastatingly exquisite.

It shot straight through my damn heart. I kissed her hand, letting my lips rest there for just a second longer than necessary, then I forced myself out of the car.

Retrieving my bags, I rounded the car, stopping at her window.

I bent, taking her face in my hands, kissing her one last time.

Not hesitant. Not hurried. Just enough. Enough to make sure she felt me long after I was gone.

I pulled away, my lips barely brushing against hers as I whispered, “I love you.”

She didn’t stall. Didn’t avoid me. “I love you back.”