Summer Romance Box Set: 3 Bestselling Stand-Alone Romances: Weightless, Revelry, and On the Way to You

by Kandi Steiner

  “Don’t you need to make plans for where to stay and stuff, too? For Seattle?”

  I nodded. “I do. Next hotel we stop at, we should make sure it’s one with a business center. I can just spend a day putting in apartment applications and job searching.”

  “Sounds like a boring way to spend a day.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s called being responsible. You should try it.”

  “Nah.” He winked at me, tugging on Kalo’s toy until it was freed from her jaw before throwing it again.

  “Should we hit Vegas?”

  Emery paused then, Kalo nipping at his hand still holding her toy. She’d actually returned it to him this time. “Fuck yeah, we should go to Vegas. And we’re staying right on the strip, too.”

  I chuckled, marking it down on the list. Once we had everything we wanted to do listed out, I made us a driving route, calculating eight hours of driving max per day, though most days would be less.

  “If we go this way, it’ll take us…” I did the math in my head, pulling up the calendar on my phone. “Eleven days to make it to Seattle, but that’s if we’re driving every day. So if we end up wanting to stay more than one night somewhere—“

  Emery coughed. “Vegas.”

  “Like Vegas,” I repeated, laughing. “Then it might be a little longer.”

  “So, about two weeks?”

  “About two weeks.”

  Emery tossed Kalo’s toy before smiling at me from where he sat on the edge of his bed, his hair still messy from sleep, muffin crumbs gathered in his lap. “Let’s do it, Little Penny.”

  We weren’t in New Mexico very long before we cut right across the Colorado border, and finally, it felt like fall.

  Actually, it almost felt like winter.

  We didn’t have the top down anymore, and I was bundled up in one of the two sweaters I brought, my arms tucked tightly across my stomach to keep the warmth in. I’d never seen anything like that before — the mountains stretching up in the distance to our left, the prairies flat and dry to our right as we crawled our way to Colorado Springs. I didn’t know how Emery was keeping his eyes on the road with everything so beautiful around us. There was snow on the tips of the mountains, and I traced the outline of it in wonder as we drove.

  “I’ve never seen snow before,” I said absentmindedly, petting Kalo’s head. She had crawled into my lap somewhere in New Mexico.

  “Ever?”

  I shook my head. “I’ve never been outside of Alabama.”

  Emery glanced at me then, watching me for a moment before his eyes found the road again. “It’s pretty, if you don’t have to shovel it. I stayed with a college buddy once over winter break. His family lives in Pittsburgh.” He shook his head. “It was awful. We had to shovel so much snow, and you have to put on so many fucking layers when you go outside, and then peel them all off when you’re back inside. And everything is wet.” He grimaced before a soft smile found his lips. “But it was something, to see it fall from the sky. And it’s so soft at first. It’s pretty. And quiet, everything is so quiet when it’s snowing.”

  “That sounds magical,” I said in awe, closing my eyes and trying to picture it. “I don’t think I would mind shoveling, if it meant I got to see that first fall.”

  Emery scoffed. “You say that now. But if your feet were frozen numb and your hands raw and red from the shovel, you’d change your mind.”

  My thigh started to tingle under where Kalo was resting, and I moved my hand under her fur, rubbing my thigh in small circles, my eyes still on the scenery as we passed.

  “Do you have something for that?” Emery asked, nodding toward my leg. “For the pain?”

  I shrugged, still working the muscle under my fingertips. “I used to. They gave me pain meds, but they just… they took all the light out of me. I started looking up more natural remedies when I was fourteen. That’s kind of what lead me to Bastyr, actually.”

  “That makes sense. I don’t think I would want to be doped up all the time, either.”

  He said it like he knew, his eyes softening under the weight of his brows, and my mind flashed to his journal entry, to the hydrocodone he took to try to end his life.

  I swallowed.

  “I was basically a zombie when I was on them. Pain relief is a hard thing to study when it comes to naturopathic medicine, though. I tried acupuncture, and that didn’t really work for me. I brew willow bark in my tea and that helps sometimes, but other times the pain is so severe that it almost feels like nothing will help.”

  “And you just ride it out?”

  I nodded. “Usually. I figure it’s my body’s way of reminding me what was once there, and sometimes I don’t mind having that reminder. Even if it is painful.”

  Emery was silent a moment, his hands fisting the steering wheel.

  “Sounds almost like that love you were talking about.”

  I tilted my head. “How so?”

  Kalo readjusted herself on my lap, huffing as if our talking was keeping her awake. I chuckled, petting behind her ear.

  “Well, it’s like with my grams. Sometimes I smell something or hear something that reminds me of a time with her, and it hurts, but… in a good way. In a way that reminds me she was here, and alive.”

  My chest ached with his admission, and I was tempted to reach for him, to wrap my hand around his own, but I kept petting Kalo, instead.

  “Yeah. I think it’s exactly like that.” I paused. “Or like when you love someone and they break your heart. It hurts to remember them, but it would hurt worse not to.”

  “You’ve experienced that heartbreak?”

  I flushed then, eyes back on the road. “Well, no. But I think I can imagine what it would be like.”

  “Have you ever been in love?”

  I swallowed. “Not yet.”

  “Ever had a boyfriend?”

  “Not unless you count Trevor Baker in the fourth grade. He kissed me by the swings.”

  Emery laughed. “I’m sorry, it’s just… I find that so hard to believe.”

  “That Trevor Baker kissed me? Hey, I was a looker in the fourth grade. That was before I needed glasses.”

  “No.” He laughed again. “I mean that you’ve never had a boyfriend, a real one.”

  My heart squeezed, and I looked back out the window. “Yeah, well, no one in my town really wanted much to do with me once I lost my leg. Add in the fact that my family didn’t exactly have the best reputation and, well…” I shrugged. “But it’s fine. I had my books, and this fluff ball here.” I scrubbed Kalo’s head.

  “What’s your favorite book?”

  It was my turn to laugh. “You can’t just have one favorite book. That’s like me asking you to choose a favorite arm.”

  “My right one, of course.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m serious. I’ve read thousands of books, there’s no way I could ever pick a favorite.”

  “Okay, well which one got you hooked on reading.”

  Smiling, I reached into my purse by my feet, pulling out the worn copy of Catcher in the Rye I’d brought with me.

  “No shit,” Emery said, eyeing the book. “You’re a Holden Caufield fan?”

  “He was my first crush.”

  Emery laughed again just as we rounded a corner to reveal another breathtaking view of the mountains. “Most girls were crushing on Leonardo DiCaprio, and you were lusting after Holden Caufield.”

  “He’s a stud. He’s smart and witty, and foolish.”

  “And you like foolish men?”

  I shrugged. “I liked foolish boys. Past tense.”

  “And now?”

  I didn’t know why heat crept its way up my neck, or why I had to fight back a smile at him asking me what kind of guy I preferred. It felt like he was asking me another question altogether, one he’d asked with his eyes, already.

  “I don’t know. I want someone I can laugh with, and go on adventures with. Someone who will challenge me to be better but also sup
port me when I’m weak. I want someone who shares their deepest fears with me, shows me their scars willingly — someone who trusts me to heal them, just as I trust them.” I bit my lip. “And I want to feel a rush every time our skin touches. I want to lose entire afternoons with them under the covers. I want someone who I can’t wait to share good news with, and someone who I know will hold me when the bad news comes.”

  I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t stop. The want for a love I’d never experienced consumed me. My eyes were still tracing the mountains as my voice lowered, my hands finding my hair, braiding it over my shoulder.

  “I want that kind of love that leaves you breathless when it hits you, and makes you want to throw up at the thought of losing it. The kind that makes you so happy that it hurts at the same time, like it’s painful to think that out of all the people in the world, you somehow found the one meant for you.” I sighed, tossing my braid back behind me. “But really, I don’t know what I want. Not completely. I’ve never come face to face with it.” I shrugged, lost in my thoughts, in the unknown of it all. “I guess I’ll just know when I find it.”

  Emery watched me for a long moment, so long our tires brushed the bumpy edges of the shoulder before he turned his attention back to the road. And then he was quiet.

  “Go ahead,” I said, poking his arm. “Say what you want to say. Tell me I’m stupid and that fantasy doesn’t exist.”

  He didn’t smile, didn’t spout off a cynical list of reasons why I was wrong. He just drove, one hand on the steering wheel, the other brushing over the soft bit of stubble that had grown on his chin overnight.

  “You’re not stupid,” he finally said. “And I hope you find all of those things with someone, Cooper. I really do.”

  I smiled. “I hope you do, too.”

  Emery didn’t respond, pointing instead to a sign up ahead. “I need a restroom break. You hungry or anything?”

  “I think I can wait until we get there.”

  He nodded, pulling us off onto the exit. A few minutes later we were parked at a quiet old gas station, and he hopped out, taking Kalo’s leash. I couldn’t help but watch him as he walked with her, and once she was finished, she was back in the car and Emery was headed inside.

  His journal was tucked in between the driver seat and the console, and my eyes flicked down to the leather before I tore them away again.

  My right knee bounced.

  I unbraided my hair.

  I texted Lily.

  And then I gave in and picked it up, anyway.

  My stomach was in knots as I glanced up at the gas station, watching for him while my fingers flipped to the page from last night. It was bookmarked with a small, dark red ribbon, and my name jumped off the page as soon as I opened it.

  I saw Cooper for the first time tonight.

  We’ve only been together a few days, but still, I thought I had her figured out. I thought I had her nailed down as this stupid, naive little girl who had never been hurt before. But she has been hurt. She’s been through more than most people I know.

  More than me.

  I knew something was off with the way she walked, with some of the noises I heard her make, but it was still a shocking sight to see her standing in the frame of our hotel bathroom on one leg. Half of the other one is gone. She lost it in a car accident with her mom.

  Her mom was drunk. Her mom didn’t lose a damn thing, but Cooper lost her leg.

  Now I’m sitting here on the bed opposite her, and she’s asleep, tears still staining her cheeks because I asked her what happened. And she told me, she opened herself up to me even though I was a complete fucking asshole to her yesterday. And why, because I was having a “bad day” as Marni would say?

  Stupid.

  I don’t know what bad days are, not really. I don’t know what it’s like to wake up in a hospital without a leg, or to learn how to walk again, or to look at my drunk mom who doesn’t have a single scratch on her and know she’s responsible for my new life.

  Grams would have liked Cooper.

  I wish she could have met her.

  Emery pushed through the gas station door, flicking his sunglasses back down over his eyes as I carefully slipped his journal back into place. When he dipped back down into the driver seat, I was smiling, and I just looked at him.

  “What?” he asked, the corner of his mouth quirking up, too.

  “Nothing.”

  I couldn’t stop smiling, though I didn’t know why. Maybe it felt good that he had seen me, really seen me, or that he’d written about me with such respect. Or maybe it was that he’d said his grandma would like me, and I knew that was a big deal for him. Either way, I couldn’t erase my goofy grin, and Emery just cocked a brow, shaking his head as he started up the engine.

  “Okay, weirdo, you’re DJ. Less than two hours until Colorado Springs.”

  And then we were back on the road, and I was back in my thoughts, wondering more and more with every mile just who Emery Reed was.

  We stopped at the first diner we saw in Colorado Springs for a late lunch, asking our waitress what her top recommendations were for our visit. The first place she mentioned was a hike called Seven Falls, so when our bellies were full, we drove to the Broadmoor Hotel to buy our tickets and prep for the hike.

  “Think you’re ready for these stairs, Little Penny?” Emery teased as I tightened my sneakers. We were waiting for the tram to pick us up from parking and take us to the falls, and I was already inhaling the fresh mountain air, taking in the scenery around us.

  “Hey, I can do everything you can with this leg of mine,” I said, thumping it with my knuckles. “I am slightly worried about the cardio aspect, though. Not exactly getting the heart rate up much in yoga.”

  He laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll carry you up if I have to.”

  “Oh, yeah, because I’m sure the drinker is super healthy.”

  “Whiskey doesn’t stop me from having abs, now does it?”

  I blushed at that, eyes skating down to his abdomen even though it was currently covered by his beige knitted sweater. The tram pulled up, saving me from a response as we climbed aboard, Kalo in tow.

  It didn’t take long before we were at the foot of the falls, being guided through what to expect during our climb. Emery bought a simple black backpack from the store at the bottom and packed a couple of waters for each of us, along with trail mix, and then we were on our way.

  Kalo was hopping up the stairs as fast as she could at first, nearly choking herself with the leash as she tried to run faster, but by the time we’d climbed the first long set of stairs, she slowed to match our pace.

  “It’s like a never-ending stair master,” I said, exasperated. I paused at the little lookout over the first waterfall, catching my breath and taking in the view. My leg was okay, my extra socks helping take some of the brunt of the hike, but I knew it would be sore the next day.

  I was thankful it was chilly but not too cold as we stood by the spraying water, little drops peppering my cheeks. We’d only climbed up part of the way and already I found myself breathless in wonder.

  “It’s amazing, the way nature carved this place. These mountains, these waterfalls,” Emery said, pointing to the different grooves in the rock around us. His nose was pink from the cold, his eyes wide and bright. “We think we know the world, but we’re only seeing a tiny second of its journey.”

  We stood there, Kalo with her head through the railing looking down while Emery and I looked up and around. And I’m not sure why it hit me in that moment, but I realized then that I wasn’t in Alabama anymore. I realized then that I was finally on my journey, and it may only have been a second for the Earth, but it was time frozen still for me.

  “Strange,” I said, voice low, mixing with the rushing water. “It makes me feel small and free all at once.”

  Emery nodded in agreement, pulling a water bottle from his bag and offering me a drink before we started for the stairs again.

  We were s
ilent as we climbed the rest of the two-hundred and twenty-four steps, stopping several times along the way to drink water and let Kalo rest. I attempted to take a photo on my phone a few times, though it never did the actual scenery justice, so I opted for keeping it tucked in my back pocket, instead. When we reached the top, both of us out of breath, Emery nodded toward the sign for Midnight Falls, and we took the less than half-mile hike down to see that part of the falls up close.

  We were the only ones on the trail when we reached the end, save for an older couple studying their map. Kalo was antsy from being on her leash so I let her off for a second, laughing when she ran straight for the water and hopped around on the rocks, her tongue hanging out and flopping around with her.

  “How long have you had her, anyway?” Emery asked as we watched her play.

  I smiled, thinking back to the day she came into my life. “I adopted her as a puppy right around my sixteenth birthday. Hard to believe I’ve had her for almost five years now.”

  Emery inched a little closer to me, his hands tucked in the front pockets of his jeans, elbow just barely brushing mine. His hair was a little damp from the falls, his skin still pink from the cold. “And her name? How did you come up with that?”

  “Kalos is a Greek term for astounding beauty, inside and out. I read once that there isn’t an English word that can be used as a synonym, because of the level of beauty the word is said to describe. I liked that, a word that didn’t have an equivalent. I liked that only one culture took the time to give that kind of beauty a name.”

  Emery frowned. “But her eyes are crossed.”

  I laughed, smacking his arm.

  “What? I mean, she’s kind of goofy looking, you have to admit.”

  “She is,” I laughed the words. “But she’s also beautiful. And different. And mine.”

  Just as I said the words, the older couple who had been looking at their map was posing for a selfie near the foot of the falls, and I watched in slow motion as Kalo darted toward them, tongue hanging out, paws skipping across the wet rocks.

  “Kalo, no!” I jetted after her, but it was too late. She startled the woman and, though he tried, the man couldn’t stop her from slipping and falling on the rocks.