Wasted Summer

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Wasted Summer Page 10

by Cathryn Fox


  After they each ordered a chocolate swirl in a sugar cone, he turned to her. “Want to walk?”

  “Yeah,” she said and moved toward the door.

  They stepped outside and strolled aimlessly along the sidewalk, the night air dropping in temperature as they ate their cones. She wrapped one arm around herself.

  “You cold?” he asked, looking at her thin blouse. “I have a jacket in the car.”

  “I’m okay. Besides, I still have one of your shirts that I have to return.”

  “So tell me more about this A you need,” he said.

  She looked confused for a moment, then said, “Oh, if anyone gets an A on the story they’re working on during the course, the prof will submit it for them.”

  Ryeland thought about that for a moment. “You know, my dad is a lawyer and I’m sure he has friends who are literary attorneys. Those guys know people who know people.”

  “No,” she said quickly. “I’d never ask you to do that. Never.”

  He shook his head and smiled as his glance moved over her face.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Nothing. You’re different.” When she gave him a strange look, he said, “In a good way.”

  They soon found themselves on Union Street, off the beaten path where the street lamps didn’t quite reach. “Come on, there’s something I want to show you.”

  He grinned. “Oh yeah, there’s something I want to show you too.”

  “Ryeland,” she warned, but her grin told him she wasn’t upset by his comment. “We’re just friends remember?”

  “What?” he asked, pretending to take offense. “I just meant that I wanted to show you this freckle here.” He held his arm up and pointed to a spot on the back. “See.”

  She laughed and punched him in the bicep. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “And you’re frigging strong.” He rubbed his arm. “That’s going to bruise.”

  “Look.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and hitting her flashlight app. She pointed it at the wall, and he stared at all the graffiti splashed over the bricks. “Trent, the guy who works at Grizzly’s and his friends did this.”

  “I don’t know much about graffiti, but this is pretty cool.” He ran his hand over the patterns. “I like it.” He bit into his cone as she aimed the light his way.

  “You do?”

  “Sure.”

  “I never took you for the artsy type.”

  He angled his chin in triumph. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, which takes me back to why I told you we needed to hang out.”

  She turned the light back to the wall, and stood there for a moment admiring it. While she examined the art, Ryeland crushed the bottom of his cone in his palm and let the pieces fall to the ground.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked, hitting him with the light.

  Blinking against the glare, he brushed the crumbs from his hands and took the phone from her. “I don’t eat the bottom.”

  She laughed as he powered her phone down and handed it back. “That’s weird. Why not?”

  “Because—” he began giving her a little nudge to set them back in to motion, “—when I was a kid, I found a big ass house fly in the bottom of the cone.” He cringed. “I almost ate the damn thing too.”

  “Eww, no way!” Melody said. “That’s gross.”

  “Oh believe me, I know. Now I can’t bring myself to eat all the way to the bottom.”

  She eyed him skeptically. “Did that really happen?”

  “Yes.” He pointed to her cone and made a face. “And if I were you I’d check that before I bit into it.”

  When they reached Main Street and found themselves back outside the Big Scoop, Melody stepped under a streetlamp and looked into her cone. “No fly,” she said, turning back to him and tossing it into her mouth. That’s when Ryeland noticed the smudge of chocolate on her upper lip. He moved close, and felt a shiver race through her, the smile falling from her face as he leaned into her, caging her between his body and the streetlamp. Her sweet scent wrapped around him and it took all his effort not to groan.

  He brushed her cheek, her skin so goddamn soft beneath the rough pad of his thumb his body tightened, wanting to touch more of her, all of her. “You have chocolate on your mouth.”

  “Oh,” she said, standing perfectly still as he wet his thumb and swiped her upper lip clean. Damn, what he’d do to lick it off with his tongue.

  He looked over her face, taking in the heat in her eyes. One taste, one small taste was all he’d take. “Mel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Want to know what I’m thinking now?”

  She went quiet for a moment, like she was actually considering it, then she answered with, “No,” and bumped into him to try to push him back. “It’s late and I need to go. I have to get up early for work.”

  “Okay,” he said, but neither one moved as sparks arced between them. Ryeland’s heart crashed against his chest, as he pressed against her and lowered his head, his lips inches from hers. “Mel,” he whispered, then swiped his tongue over his bottom lip.

  When a chorus of loud voices sounded from the dark, Ryeland stiffened and turned. Shit. He squared his shoulders as Trevor and one of his asshole friends came out from the ice cream shop.

  “Well, well. What do we have here?” Trevor asked, stepping up in front of Ryeland and looking so much braver when he was with his friends. He looked over Ryeland’s shoulder. “Mel,” he said, smirking. “You took off too fast the other night. We never got a chance to talk.”

  “There’s nothing for us to talk about,” she said, moving to stand beside Ryeland.

  “Sure there is.”

  “No, there isn’t,” Ryeland said and positioned Mel behind him, blocking her from Trevor. She might be a fighter, but as long as he was around she didn’t need to be so strong. Besides, he could tell how much Trevor rattled her, even though she tried to hide it.

  Trevor laughed and widened his stance. Ryeland prepared himself, ready to kick the shit out of the guy once and for all. Trevor looked around. “What? You don’t have your buddies to jump in and fight with you.”

  “I don’t need them.”

  “That’s not the way I saw it.”

  “Then you saw wrong.”

  The smile fell from Trevor’s face as he squared off against Ryeland. “It’s time you learned a lesson, pal.”

  “Trevor, stop it!” Melody yelled from behind Ryeland’s back.

  Trevor poked his finger in the air. “This rich fucker needs to learn that he can’t come riding in to town every summer and think he can take what’s mine.”

  “I’m not yours,” Melody shot back, her voice rising.

  He smirked. “That’s not what you said last summer when you were moaning for me, baby.”

  “Back the fuck off,” Ryeland said.

  A group of kids came pouring out of the ice cream shop when they saw Trevor all up in Ryeland’s face. They came closer, circling them to get a better glimpse of the action. The door over Mr. Johnson’s pharmacy jingled, and when Ryeland and Trevor turned to see the elderly owner of the store reaching for his cell phone as he glared at them, Trevor took a small step back.

  Melody’s hand curled in the back of his shirt and gave a little tug. “Ryeland, please don’t. I don’t want to cause a scene.”

  Her shaky voice had him turning to see her and when he caught the panic in her eyes he cursed under his breath. He handed her the keys and nodded toward his vehicle. “Go get in the Jeep. I’ll be right there.”

  She tugged on his shirt. “No. Come with me now,” she pleaded. “This isn’t worth it.”

  Like hell it wasn’t. While he’d like nothing better than to finish this with Trevor, he knew it would have to wait. Melody was tough enough, but Trevor rattled her, and he needed to get her out of there.

  “Okay,” he said.

  He pulled her against him and Trevor made a move to block their way, until a police car roun
ded the corner. He smirked and waved his hand to clear a path. Ryeland led Melody away. As the car pulled up to the curb and he could hear Trevor talking to his uncle and cracking jokes.

  Melody climbed into the Jeep and he slid in beside her. “You okay?”

  “Yeah.” Something dark moved over her face, something that reminded him she had demons. “I just hate violence.”

  His heart squeezed. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. He started it.”

  “You know I’m going to have to finish it, right?”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “He’s not going to leave you alone until I do.”

  She turned to him. “Maybe you should stop hanging around with me. Then he’ll stop bothering you.”

  “You think I’m going to let an asshole like Trevor scare me off?” He put his hand on her headrest and leaned into her. She went quiet. “Mel?”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s his problem anyway?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “He seems hell bent on winning you back. Were you two close?”

  “No, yes. I guess. I thought we were anyway.”

  Her body sagged slightly and he touched a strand of her hair, curling it around his finger. “You want to tell me what happened?”

  “Not really.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “It’s not my business.” He shoved his key into the ignition and turned it. “Let’s go.”

  “I was nothing but a joke to him, some stupid conquest,” she blurted out. Ryeland let go of the keys and slowly leaned back. “When he finally got what he wanted, he said some pretty nasty things about me.” Ryeland grabbed the steering wheel and squeezed. Jesus. No wonder she found it so hard to trust him. “Trevor’s uncle is a cop and he thinks he’s untouchable around here.” She blinked up at him, worry darkening her eyes. Ryeland knew Trevor had upset her, but he sensed there was something more, something else she was holding back. “He’s trouble, Ryeland.”

  “I won’t let him hurt you.”

  She folded her hands in her lap, and looked down. “What if he hurts you?”

  He smiled, and ran his thumb over her cheek. “There you go again, worrying about me.” She glanced back at him, and the seriousness on her face killed his smile. “Hey, there’s nothing he can do to hurt me. And for the record, Melody, I’m nothing like him.”

  She frowned, like she was still so unsure of him. Ryeland inched back. “Let’s get you home.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “And tomorrow night, maybe we can take the horses out for a ride up the mountain.”

  “I can’t. I’m hanging out with Jaelyn tomorrow.”

  “Cave?”

  “No, I hate that place.”

  “Next night?”

  “We’ll see,” she said.

  He spun his Jeep around and headed up the hill toward the resort, reminding himself he needed to take it slow with her, no matter how much it frustrated him. Melody stayed quiet but he could tell how much Trevor had hurt her. It made him wonder more about the lies that asshole had spread.

  He stopped in front of her lodge and she opened the door. “Thanks for the lift,” she said. “And for dinner.”

  “Don’t forget your backpack.”

  Ryeland grabbed her bag and met her by her door. She reached for her pack, but he threw it over his shoulder. “I’ll walk you.”

  She didn’t protest. Instead she fell into step beside him.

  They climbed the stairs and after she opened her door, he handed her the bag. “Good night, Melody.”

  “Good night.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She disappeared inside and he stood there long after she closed the door. It was only when he heard her shower turn on that he made his way to the stairwell, taking the stairs to the main floor two at a time. As he drove home, he rehashed his entire night with Melody. When he pulled up to the chalet, saw all the vehicles in the driveway and heard the voices coming from the backyard, his stomach dropped. Shit. He was wound up tight as it was, and the last thing he felt like doing was playing the perfect son in front of company. His mother and father had barely spoken to him since their fight that first night. They probably figured the silent treatment would help him come to his senses. Maybe he could slip past and get to his room unnoticed.

  He closed his door quietly, but before he could even take two steps, his father and Benjamin Preston came out from around back. Beyond their shoulders near the flowerbeds he saw his kid brother watching Benjamin’s daughter—Suzette’s younger sister—Samantha. Oh yeah, the kid had it bad for her.

  “There you are, son,” his father said. “I was just telling Benjamin here that you were taking the summer to recoup and would have plenty of time to practice and play doubles with Suzette to prepare for the resort’s tennis match.” There was a dark warning in his eye when he added, “Proceeds go to raise funds for local charities, so I’m sure it’s something you can’t say no to.”

  Chapter Nine

  “So what do you want to do?” Jaelyn asked as she threw herself on Mel’s unmade bed.

  Mel fished a tank top from her closet and pulled it on. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Well I don’t care where we go, just as long as Cole isn’t there.”

  “You’re still not talking to him?”

  “Not talking and over it,” she said, but from the sad look on her face, Mel knew it wasn’t true. “I want to do something fun,” Jaelyn said, rubbing her hands.

  “Last time you said that you nearly got us both in trouble.”

  “Trent and his gang spray paint the buildings all the time, how did I know the cops would show up when I decided to try.”

  “How about we do something quiet?”

  “Off resort?”

  “We could catch a movie.”

  “Or go to the drive-in.”

  “A drive-in with no car, now that might be challenging.”

  Jaelyn wagged her eyebrows. “I can jack one.”

  Mel laughed. “And how is that doing something quiet?”

  “Movies it is.” Jaelyn pulled out her phone to check what was playing at the small cinema in town as Mel finished dressing.

  Twenty minutes later they were sitting on the shuttle on their way to Main Street. Most of the passengers got off at the Cave and while Jaelyn looked on longingly, because there was no doubt Cole would be there and she really did want to see him, Mel patted her hand.

  “Think about all that popcorn with extra butter,” Mel said.

  “Yummy.”

  “Although with the way I’ve been eating, if Ryeland keeps driving me everywhere, I’ll never fit in to my clothes.”

  Jaelyn looked at her carefully. “I knew he was driving you to work and back, but now you’re telling me he’s driving you everywhere?”

  “Well, I just mean he drove me to class and then home again last night.” God, she needed to stop thinking about him, talking about him, otherwise Jaelyn might get the wrong idea.

  “Shit, Mel.”

  “What?”

  “You like him.”

  Too late…

  She gave a casual shrug, and stood when the shuttle came to a stop in town. “We’re friends.”

  “Who are you trying to convince of that? Me or you?” Jaelyn asked as she followed Mel off the bus and down the sidewalk.

  “He’s nice, Jaelyn.”

  “Yeah, but you’re the one who told me there could be nothing more, and don’t forget that’s what you said about Trevor too.”

  “Trevor and Ryeland almost got into it again last night. If it wasn’t for Mr. Johnson, I think they would have had it out right in the middle of the street. I have no idea why he’s still bothering me, and I don’t want Ryeland in the middle of it.” She cringed as she thought about the things Trevor had spread about her. Telling everyone she was a great lay, probably because she had so much practice fucking all the poker player
s for money when they all convened at the resort once a year. Then he laughed about the man they’d taken away by ambulance, alluding to the fact that he’d died because she’d fucked him so good. She thought back to that horrible night the poker player died. Part of what he said was true. A man had been taken away by ambulance, but there was no money put in her hands.

  “Maybe Trevor wants what he can’t have,” Jaelyn said pulling her thoughts back. “Guys are like that; they always want what other guys have.”

  Not wanting to dredge up any more painful memories, she hooked her arm in Jaelyn’s. “Let’s go have some fun, okay?”

  They bypassed a familiar group of girls—summer vacationers—who darted glances their way as they walked to the theater. No doubt they were wondering what Ryeland was doing hanging with her. Ignoring them, they bought their tickets and grabbed the biggest buckets of popcorn.

  The theater was pretty quiet for a weeknight, so they settled into seats in the middle of the theater and chowed down. Just as the movie was about to start, she spotted Nikko and Justin combing the aisles in the dark. They took two seats a couple rows in front of Mel and Jaelyn and the weed on their clothes overpowered the smell of popcorn.

  “I don’t like those two,” Jaelyn said, pitching her voice low.

  “I know. He apologized for splashing me, but there is something about him that rubs me the wrong way.” Like Ryeland said, she might not be a great judge of character, but those guys filled her with unease. Call it woman’s intuition, but she didn’t trust them.

  The movie came on and they settled in for the next hour and half, and once it was over, Mel grabbed Jaelyn arm, wanting to get out of there before she had to make conversation with Ryeland’s friends.

  They hurried outside and pretended not to hear when Justin called out to them.

  “Where to now?” Jaelyn asked.

  “Anywhere those two aren’t.”

  “I know where that will be,” she said as they stopped outside The Inside Story, the town’s only bookstore.

 

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