by Cole McCade
“You know that’s impossible,” Fox whispered.
“It doesn’t mean I won’t try. As long as you try for me, I’ll try for you.” Summer’s lips pressed to his brow, the bridge of his nose...hovered over his mouth, entreating, waiting. “Because I love you, Fox Iseya...and wherever you run, I’ll follow.”
I love you, Fox Iseya.
Maybe Fox was breaking, right now.
But maybe he needed to break, to shed what was binding him, holding him locked in place, keeping him numb.
Maybe he needed to break to become stronger.
To become who he needed to be, now that he was ready to leave his grief behind.
Ready to start again.
Ready to try.
And he felt as though his next heartbeat was a fresh new thing, a different rhythm, a different timbre as he leaned into Summer, captured his mouth, whispered, “...I love you, Summer. I do. And I’ll try for you. I’ll try...and I’ll stay. So that you don’t have to go anywhere.”
Summer grinned, his mouth moving in a warm curve against Fox’s. “I don’t think we could go anywhere anyway, since I think you killed your car and I’m not crossing that river again to get to mine. So we’re kind of stuck, but maybe we could get out of the rain...?”
Fox pulled back, looking at him flatly. “I just admitted that I love you after I nearly drowned myself to get away from you, then drowned myself to get to you, and you ruin the moment with that?”
“Well, yeah.” Summer shrugged merrily. “I have to give you a reason to be mad at me to save your pride, after that.”
Fox narrowed his eyes, glaring at Summer through the water dripping off his lashes. “I take it back. I hate you.”
“No, you don’t,” Summer said, and tugged him toward the Camry, lacing their fingers together, sweetly intertwined. “You love me just as much as I love you...and I’m never going to let you forget it.”
“Hate you,” Fox muttered again as Summer pulled the back seat door open, and sank down inside the car, tugging Fox after him.
“Uh-huh.”
“As soon as we’re back at the school, you are in every bit of trouble,” Fox grumbled, as he tucked himself into the dry warmth of the car and pulled the door shut, locking out the lashing winds and rain.
“Sure I am.”
Fox narrowed his eyes, squinting at the very sodden young man currently dripping all over his back seat, his entire body glistening with sweet-wet runnels of water. “Are you taking me at all seriously right now?”
“Absolutely seriously,” Summer said, with a sly smile that made a liar out of him; he leaned in, nipped Fox’s upper lip, drew him in tight and close with a heat that felt less like lust and more like joy, building between them into something too bright to be denied. “Now c’mere...beloved. Because we’ve got a lot of time to kill before someone comes to save us...and I need to remind you exactly why you stayed.”
Epilogue
Summer had never seen anything quite so amazing as the sight of his name on an office door.
GUIDANCE COUNSELOR in all caps in bronze embossing, right above the name Summer Hemlock.
And right next to the door whose plaque read Professor Fox Iseya.
He almost hadn’t wanted his own office, but when he’d protested, his fiancé had very pointedly threatened murder if Summer was always underfoot and stopping him from getting his own work done.
Considering you’re no longer my assistant, Fox had said tartly over dinner prep, even while feeding him shreds of grated gruyere plucked from the mixing bowls, you are more of a hindrance than a help, and an entirely annoying distraction.
Summer had grinned, leaning over to steal a taste of Fox’s fingertips, and to hell with the cheese. I don’t think you find my distractions annoying at all.
I find everything about you annoying, Fox had said with a prim, haughty sniff. The way you leave your socks tangled in the sheets when you kick them off every night. The amount of closet space you take up. The fact that you vacuum the floor every morning even when I want to sleep in. You are an irritating intrusion.
And Summer had only laughed, nipping at Fox’s fingertip. And you love me.
Instant scowl. Every time. It was so predictable it made Summer laugh, while Fox had yanked his hand back, glaring at him. So what if I do?
That’s all, Summer had answered sunnily, and dumped the shredded cheese over the bowl of tossed salad before pressing a kiss to Fox’s cheek and sailing out of arm’s reach to take the salad to the dinner table. I just like reminding you that you love me as much as I love you.
For now, Fox had called after him. I’ll likely hate you tomorrow.
Sure he would.
Just as he’d likely come to hate Summer every day before that in the months since Summer had transitioned into training for the guidance counselor job.
Yet somehow, despite that supposed hate, Fox had invited Summer to move in with him, had fallen into a domestic routine with him, had tumbled him into bed every night to make Summer cry his name again and again.
Maybe he’d figure that hate thing out after a few more tries.
For now, though, Fox emerged from his office, brushing his half-loosed hair back with both hands before deftly twisting and knotting it up. He moved to stand next to Summer outside Summer’s office door, broad shoulder bumping Summer’s, then cocked his head to one side.
“I don’t see the point,” Fox said blandly. “You’ll only have to change the name in a few months anyway.”
Summer snorted, flicking his fingers against Fox’s side—his heavy platinum engagement ring warm on his finger, twin to the one glinting against Fox’s finger and his hair as he finished binding it up. “Who says I’m even taking your name?”
Something dark glinted in Fox’s eyes as he turned a sidelong look on Summer. Something possessive. Something hungry, as he swept an arm around Summer’s waist and drew him in close and tight, right there in the hallway where anyone could see if they looked out a classroom door or when the bell let out between classes in the next few minutes.
“I say,” Fox growled. “And I rather like the sound of ‘Summer Iseya.’”
Mm.
Summer shouldn’t like that so much.
And yet after so much denial, so much heaviness, after Fox had pushed him away so much...
It ached so brightly inside, for Fox to so openly want to claim Summer as his.
And with a laugh, Summer leaned into him, resting his hands against Fox’s chest. “Fox Hemlock might just mean I’m not the one with the weirdest name here anymore. But since when are you territorial?”
“Since the moment you walked back into my life,” Fox answered, then leaned down to seize Summer’s lips in a kiss.
Suddenly they were tumbling through the door of Summer’s new office—and slamming it behind them, before Fox had him pinned up against it, arms over his head, wrists clasped. Fox always seemed to need that—some measure of control, something to leave Summer whimpering and writhing and completely submitting of his own free will, and God did Summer melt now as Fox skimmed his free hand down his body, flicked over his nipple through his shirt, nipped along his jaw in hard biting lines.
“I think,” Fox whispered against his skin, “that we need to christen your desk.”
Summer let out a breathless laugh. “We’ve christened half the rest of the school grounds. Might as well.”
As if he didn’t need it just as much.
As if he and Fox hadn’t been nearly ravenous for each other, from the moment a tow truck had dragged them back to Albin to the day, last week, when Fox had taken Summer out to dinner and quietly slipped that ring across the table without a word, the shining platinum itself a question that didn’t need to be asked but that Summer answered with an enthusiastic yes.
As enthusiastic as his moans,
as his spread legs, as Fox pulled him away from the door and pushed him down over the desk, bent and spread for his beloved, slacks dragged down around his ankles—though he caught them before they fell, at first, fishing in his pocket until he found another one of those conveniently portable little tubules of lube, flicking it over his shoulder between two fingers.
And earning a sharp, deliciously stinging smack across the ass for it, hips lifting in a rough jerk as he groaned with the pleasure of the burn.
“Again?” Fox asked with a touch of exasperation, plucking the tube from Summer’s fingers, while Summer rocked forward with a gasp, grinding his already-hard cock against the desk, trailing into a moan.
“Like I said,” he whispered, curling his fingers against the desk, bracing himself for the onslaught—of fingers, of pleasure, of Fox’s cock, of Fox’s love. “I never give up on hope.”
And he would never give up on Fox.
Not through this pleasure, as their bodies crashed together and Fox filled him in that way that only Fox could, leaving Summer clawing at the desk, begging for more, spreading himself and so willingly open and vulnerable to the man he loved.
And not through whatever pains may come.
He and Fox Iseya had taught each other how to be brave.
And no matter what...
Summer would always, always fight to love and be loved, exactly as he was and exactly as Fox was—no more, no less. Love that accepted each other in all their foibles and follies and fears and fantasies.
Love that settled inside them, found its home, made them home...
...just like that.
* * *
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Acknowledgments
The first people I told about The Call for this book were the group of author friends I call the Fight Club. They were the first to be happy for me; the first to encourage me when I had doubts; the first to shower me with unreserved excitement because we always believe in celebrating each others’ successes.
It’s been that way for years now, and it’s strange to realize that as I write this. That for years we’ve been holding each other together, lifting each other up, keeping each other on track, motivating each other through the down moments, celebrating our successes.
No matter where we go, we never leave each other behind.
And I hope we never do.
I <3 y’all.
And I’m grateful for you.
Jude rides a motorcycle, kisses hard and gives Iris
the perfect distraction from her mess of a life. But come
September, Iris is still determined to get out of this
zero-stoplight town—unless Jude can give her a reason to stay.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Girl Next Door
by New York Times bestselling author Chelsea M. Cameron.
Chapter One
Iris
I smelled the ocean before I saw it. I took the long way back; the scenic route. Anything to prolong the inevitable. Turning my car onto a back road, I sighed as I rounded a corner and drank in the view of blue waves crashing over the rocky shore, coating the rocks and turning them dark. This was my home, whether I wanted to admit it or not. I’d started my life here in Salty Cove, and now I was back.
All too soon, I reached the turn for my parents’ road. My road now. It took everything in me not to start crying when I pulled into the driveway and shut off the car. Time to face my new reality.
“We’re here,” I said to the snoring gray lump in a crate in the backseat. “Can you please wake up and comfort me right now?”
With that, my Weimaraner, Dolly Parton, raised her head and blinked her sweet blue eyes at me.
“Thank you.”
I got out of the car and went into the back to let her out of the crate. She jumped out and shook herself before sniffing the air.
“I know, you can actually smell the ocean here. It’s not covered up by city smell. At least one of us will be happy with this situation.”
Dolly started snuffling the ground and then found a spot to pee while I looked up at the house. Why did it look smaller? I hadn’t been here for months and in that time, it had shrunk. The white paint peeled in places, and the flower boxes on the wraparound porch needed watering. I hoped the garden out back wasn’t in as bad a shape.
The side door opened and out came my mother carrying a chain saw. She didn’t look at me immediately, but then she did and her face broke out into the most brilliant smile that made her look years younger.
“Hey, Mom,” I said.
She put the chain saw down on the porch before opening her arms. “Welcome home, baby girl.”
I forced myself not to cringe at the nickname. I was twenty-two, hardly a baby at this point.
Still, I let myself be folded into her arms, and I drank in the familiar scent of fresh-baked bread and fresh-cut wood. She rubbed my back up and down and then leaned down to pet Dolly, who lost her shit and lapped up the attention.
“A tree came down last week, so I’ve been cutting it up. Come on in and see your father. You can bring your stuff in later. He’s been antsy to see you all day.”
I looked back at my car, which was packed to the roof with all the shit that I had left after I’d sold most of everything in a last-ditch attempt to cover my rent.
Mom put her arm around me and started filling me in on town gossip, but a loud rumbling distracted me. I turned my head in time to watch a sleek black motorcycle pull into the driveway next door.
“Is that—” I started to say, but then the rider got off the bike and pulled off their helmet, shaking out their short dark hair.
“Oh, yes, that’s Jude. Her parents moved down to Florida and left her the house.”
Jude Wicks. I hadn’t seen her since she graduated four years ahead of me in school.
Jude didn’t glance in my direction as she covered the bike, jogged up the steps, and slammed the front door of the house. I jumped at the sound.
Dolly whined and I looked down at her.
“Her parents left her the house?” I asked as Mom and I walked up the steps and into the house. We didn’t have air-conditioning, so fans were doing all the work, just blowing around the semi-moist sea air.
Mom was distracted from answering by Dad yelling at her from his recliner. He’d hurt his back working for the power company for thirty-five years and was retired. They relied on Mom’s income as a real estate agent and substitute teacher.
“Iris is here,” Mom called to him.
“Baby girl!” he yelled when I came around the corner.
“Hi, Dad.”
I went over to give him a huge hug. Dolly immediately put her chin in his lap and whined for attention.
“Hello, Dolly,” Dad said with a chuckle, setting his coffee down next to a stack of library books beside his chair.
“What are you reading now?” I asked.
He held up the book he’d rested on the arm of the chair to keep his place. “Started reading these young adult books. This one’s about these kids who are planning a heist to steal this magic stuff. You can have it when I’m done.”
Mom poked her head in and asked me if I wanted some coffee. “Sure, thanks.”
I sat down on the couch as Dolly curled up at his feet and closed her eyes.
Mom brought me a cup of black coffee and some creamer. I added enough so that the coffee turned from black to khaki. Perfect.
“How was your drive?” Mom asked.
We caught up on my trip, the fact that she’d cleared out my room for me, and what else was h
appening in town. Mostly it was about who my parents knew that had died, what they had died from, and talking shit about a few while simultaneously hoping they rested in peace.
Less than an hour at home and I already wanted to escape, but I was stuck here, at least for now.
I had to unpack my car, find a place for Dolly’s food and water bowls, and settle into my room. Luckily for me, my brother, who was ten years older, had vacated it a long time ago to go to college.
My bed was small, but Mom had bought me a new mattress recently, so there was that. Still, it was a twin bed, when I’d been sleeping in a queen in my apartment. That had been left on the street. No one wanted someone else’s mattress. The bed frame had been taken by Natalie, one of my former coworkers. I missed her already, and needed to text her that I’d made it home safe. She was so worried about me moving back to Maine that she’d literally bought me bear spray. I told her that the likelihood that I would die from a bear attack was slim to none, but she wouldn’t listen.
The walls started to close on me as I looked at the tiny bed. Sure, I’d had to share my old apartment with someone I didn’t like, but my bedroom had been twice this size, and I’d had two big, beautiful windows that looked out on a courtyard filled with flowers and butterflies and twittering birds. Maine had all those things, but it wasn’t the same.
To add insult to injury, none of my sheets or blankets were going to fit the bed. I added that to the list of things I needed to get with money I didn’t have.
Dolly followed me into the room and climbed up on the bed. She took up most of it.
“I’m going to end up on the floor,” I said to her. She closed her eyes and huffed out a sigh.
I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around. At least the posters I’d had on the walls in high school were gone, and the room was freshly painted white. My window looked out toward the ocean, which sparkled at me beyond a row of trees. At least I could see the ocean every day here.