Summer Nights

by Rachel Van Dyken

  “Yes.” She seemed thrilled about it. “I figure it’s like pre-date foreplay.”

  “Shit.” I was about to maul her in front of the entire camp. “Keep talking like that and I’m going to get outed by a nerdy camper who likes rules and thinks it’s wrong to get naked on stage with the love of his life.”

  Her expression changed. “Is that what I am?”

  “What else, could you possibly be?” I countered.

  Our gazes locked.

  “So…” Jackson moved between us and separated us. “I know your juices are flowing and both of you want to just bang it all out, but save it for when young eyes aren’t watching. One of the girls said if Director Marlo looked at her like that she’d sign over her dad’s Ferrari.” He nodded. “You up for it?”

  “Hell no.” I laughed.

  “See! He loves you more than a car!” Jackson shook her by the shoulders. “Now, give them a thirty-minute break, so we can figure shit out, it’s time to block. Good job, kids, now everyone knows what foreplay looks like via dancing… sex education, such a bitch.”

  And then he was gone.

  Her eyes heated one last time in my direction, then Ray turned and flashed a smile to her backup dancers. “Get some lunch and make it fast, we need to go through blocking.”

  “Marlo!” Brax yelled.

  “Until tonight,” I said under my breath, knowing she wouldn’t hear.

  If I lasted that long.

  Without combusting.

  “Marlo!” he repeated.

  “Coming!”

  “WHAT ARE YOU wearing?” Jen asked from behind me.

  I jumped a foot. “You scared the crap out of me!”

  “Sorry, I was in stealth mode. Jackson’s been trying to convince me to stay the night at his cabin. He said he wouldn’t light any candles and that he’d let me pick a movie on his laptop while he painted my toes.”

  I frowned and kept walking toward my cabin, gravel crunching beneath my Nikes. “Wait, why is he painting your toes?”

  “He claims he read it in Cosmo, he’s trying to do things right. Ergo, we need to watch a chick flick and pull out the nail polish.”

  “Men.” I sighed and put my hands on my hips. “Why don’t you just binge watch something on Netflix and let him touch your boobs?”

  She burst out laughing. “Better plan and I think he’d actually prefer that, but he’s trying to be good.”

  “That’s still being good,” I pointed out. “Ish.”

  “Right…” She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll just make it too hard for him to say no, which brings us full circle. What are you wearing?”

  I slumped like a deflating balloon. “I don’t even know what we’re doing so I’m not sure.”

  She wrapped an arm around me. “I’ll help. Besides it will make Jackson more panicky, and he always kisses more aggressively when he thinks I’m pissed or gone.”

  “The games we play.” I rolled my eyes.

  I was nervous.

  Why was I nervous?

  I gave myself one last pep talk as I looked at my reflection in the long mirror on the far wall of my bare cabin.

  “Are we sure about this?” I scrunched up my nose as I ran my hands down my black tank dress and tennis shoes. It was skin tight cotton that hugged every curve I had, which was why we paired it with the cute Nikes. I looked half tennis star, half oh, I just woke up like this.

  My hair was pulled away from my face in a low ponytail, and I’d put on my Chanel earrings at the last minute.

  “You look so hot,” Jen said from her spot on the bed. “Seriously, if I was a guy…”

  “You sound more and more like Jackson.” I winked and dodged the pillow she threw in my direction then blushed. Yeah, she had it bad.

  “Your boobs look amazing, your skin has that nervous flush to it… Yeah, I highly doubt Mr. Camp Director is going to be able to keep his hands off of you.”

  “Is that what I want?” I wondered out loud, anxiety rippling through me in chaotic waves like I was my own personal hurricane.

  “Look.” Jen stood and grabbed me by the shoulders. “Him wanting you is never going to be a problem, he’s obsessed with you, anyone can see that.”

  I didn’t want obsession.

  I wanted partnership.

  Love.

  I wanted to start over.

  I sighed and then wrapped my arms around her. “It’s going to be great.”

  She hugged me back; I got choked up when she patted my back and then whispered, “It’s going to be amazing, just smile.”

  So I did.

  I walked out of my cabin into the warm summer night and smiled my entire way down to the lake.

  The only instruction I had been given was to go to the lake.

  When I arrived, I found a giant picnic basket on the table. No Marlo, no Jackson, just a letter that read open me.

  With a grin, I opened the letter.

  And felt my soul weep in my body.

  Dear Spoiled Princess,

  You have to know I watch you.

  You have to know I want you.

  You have to know I hate you.

  I love you.

  Every time you drive by in your BMW, I wonder if you think about running me over with it as much as I think about running in front of it to get your attention. I would welcome your rage almost as much as your love.

  Maybe that’s the problem.

  I will take whatever I can get.

  I’ll take your body if you just give me a taste.

  I’ll own your soul if you let it go.

  I’ll hold your heart if you hand it over.

  And if all I get are the broken pieces, the ones that only bring you pain in your life, then I want those too.

  Because I want you.

  But you’ll never know how much.

  Because I’m your lawn boy.

  Because we’re from two different worlds.

  Because I know that you care too much about your fake friends.

  And because I know you’re lonely.

  I know you cry yourself to sleep at night — I can hear you.

  It’s why I can’t stay away.

  Because pain recognizes pain.

  And loneliness does the same thing.

  It creates this chasm of want deep within us. It begs to be filled by something other than the sound of our own breathing, of our own fucking heartbeat.

  I know the truth now. I know that if I fill you with me, you’ll still feel empty. I know if you give yourself to me, you’ll still feel the need to be loved by someone other than the boy who mows your lawn.

  So where does that leave us?

  It leaves us here.

  With a second chance.

  With a crossroads.

  We can own our pain.

  Own the fact that we are too broken to be put back together again.

  Own that no matter what, we have a past that we can’t escape but a future together if we’d just forgive the past.

  Want to know why cars have giant windows in front and tiny rearview windows?

  Because we aren’t supposed to look back.

  But I don’t really agree with that, want to know why? Because I love looking back at those hot summer nights when I’d watch you skinny-dip, like I was some kind of creeper, and then punish myself for being the guy that lusts after the rich girl.

  I love looking back on our first time with our teeth knocking, sweaty bodies gliding and grinding.

  I love the scent of summer in your hair and the sunlight on your skin and the way you taste beneath my tongue.

  So, I’m gonna look back, because even though the past is dark and riddled with pain — my sunlight was you.

  I hate you.

  I love you.

  I need you.

  Always yours,

  Your lawn boy.

  Marlo B.

  Two teardrops dropped onto the handwritten page, and then I heard the sound of a lawn mower.

  I lo
oked up just in time to see Marlo coming down the dirt road shirtless, riding a lawnmower, and pumping his hand in the air to eighties music.

  And I cried harder.

  Because he had always seen me.

  He got me.

  He knew me.

  All the ugly parts. All the parts I wanted to keep to myself.

  He turned off the lawnmower and then sauntered toward me, his abs on perfect display, showing off, begging to be touched and tasted. His bulging biceps and triceps made his entire body look bigger. But my eyes wandered to where his low-slung jeans slid about on narrow hips.

  I licked my lips.

  And then he was in front of me, baseball cap backward, long hair tucked behind his ears, and crystal blue eyes searching mine with a grin that could melt hearts all over the world.

  Too bad he already had mine.

  Too bad I was making him keep it.

  “I love you.” I barely got out the last word before he leaned in and whispered his answer.

  “I’ve loved you since I was six…”

  “I was skinny and had frizzy hair when I was six,” I pointed out.

  “The frizzy hair was my favorite part, especially during the summers.” He reached for my hair and ran his fingers through it.

  I licked my lips as the music shifted. The sun was starting to set. I crooked my finger and grabbed the iPad off the lawnmower, then tucked my letter into the case.

  We interlocked hands as we made our way down the trail to the other beach, the one he’d danced on so many nights ago.

  With shaking hands, I placed the iPad near the tree then turned to face him.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Is this where you tell me the date’s over because you hated my note?”

  “No.” I took a deep breath. “This is where the spoiled princess makes her confession and finds her truth.” I held out my hand to him. “But I’m going to need some help.”

  “Only you can let go.”

  “Only if you catch me.”

  He hauled me into his arms and whispered against my hair. “Even when I hated you, I was watching, waiting, your hero in every way, yours in every way, forever and always.”

  THIS WAS HAPPENING.

  I was still in disbelief when she tossed off her Nikes and socks then turned to face me, her eyes searching mine for confidence maybe? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that my body buzzed with this keen awareness that something else was shifting between us.

  For the better.

  This was our fresh start.

  This was our moment.

  Everyone has one in their lifetimes, many of us ignore them, are too afraid to take that leap, fear keeps a lot of us paralyzed. I refused to be one more human of inaction when it came to taking a leap, especially for her.

  Always for her.

  Without question.

  My answer would be yes.

  The song started.

  It was Zombie.

  The same one I’d danced to a few weeks ago.

  I narrowed my eyes. “You saw me dance?”

  She nodded. “It was beautiful.” And then she threw her hands over her head and started to dance, lifting her body effortlessly into the air as she twirled and bent around the sand.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes away as the sunlight kissed her skin, as her long neck stretched back, as she created fluidity with her body that was out of this world, and then she collapsed in on herself. Pain stabbed me in the chest as she rocked back and forth, then fell to her knees, and then forward onto her stomach. In almost one motion, she rolled then thrust her body up from the sand but holding back like it was weighing her down. She danced upward as though she was paralyzed by the heaviness of the ground trying to keep her from standing.

  She’d said she needed help.

  She’d said she needed me.

  I shook my head in disbelief as I recognized my cue and covered her body with mine, then lifted her into the air with my feet and hands as she hovered over me in a perfect plank, her arms out. I brought her down over my body as her legs straddled me. She arched her back while I ran my hands up her bare thighs shoving her skirt to her hips as she kicked away from me, and followed with another high kick, and then another fall to the ground that shattered my heart and had me ready to release a primal scream into the warm night air.

  This was her darkness.

  This was her burden.

  This was her letting go.

  I moved toward her and stood, then tried to pull her into my arms from the ground, she gave way as her body went limp in mine, as I moved us away from the sand and held her close, cupping her ears trying to speak to her without words.

  Don’t listen to the noise, all you need is me, feel me.

  She twirled under my arms and tried running for the sand, I jerked her back against my chest as the chorus started.

  Our eyes locked as I lifted her into my arms, her legs wrapped around me briefly, and we whirled as I moved with her, perfectly in sync, and then she was rolling her hips against mine in perfect cadence to the music, driving me insane.

  I let out a gasp as I clung to her shoulders, and then with my right hand, I grabbed her ass to keep her pressed against me as the music finally ended.

  It was on repeat, and the music started up again.

  I opened my eyes.

  Tears streamed from her eyes, staining her cheeks as I whispered, “That was beautiful.”

  “Kiss me.”

  I slammed my mouth against hers, and I knew in that moment I wasn’t just with the girl who had once gotten away.

  I was home.

  I was with my soul mate.

  Her tongue slid past my lower lip as the music played on, and before I knew what I was doing, I was sliding my hands up her thighs and then gripping the material of her cotton dress and pulling it up over her hips. She wiggled out of her underwear in record time. Bracing a hand around my neck, she used the other to flick open the button on my jeans. I let out a hoarse growl as she slid her hand inside and grasped me.

  I was already eager for her.

  Had been for days.

  Years.

  My entire life.

  I would never get enough of her.

  She pumped her hand up and down.

  I bit down on her bottom lip then pulled away and gritted my teeth as our bodies moved up and down, grinding against each other to the music.

  “I’ve always needed you.” She spoke against my mouth.

  My eyes rolled in the back of my head when she thrust her hips against my cock and then moved her hand as she tugged my jeans down.

  I dropped her to her feet and then walked her backward to the tree, the one hidden in the shadows, not that it mattered, I was taking her, having her, here, now, forever. Always.

  I grabbed her hands and put them on the branch overhead. “Hold on.”

  “Are we really doing this?” Her eyes dilated in what looked like a mix of lust and shock.

  I gripped her by the hips. “I would hold on.”

  She pulled her body up just as I grabbed myself and guided my tip into her. Her legs wrapped around me, sucking me into her core, holding me captive, as I moved inside her, slowly, passionately, giving her everything I had, and hoping she’d accept it, accept us.

  My muscles strained to hold her in place while she gripped the branch overhead using it for balance. I was so deep I never wanted to be saved from this place, from his moment between us.

  “Marlo…” She let out a whimper. “It’s almost too much.”

  “It should be more than too much — it should wreck you for life.” I pulled almost completely out and then slammed into her. My right hand hit the tree as I scrambled for more to anchor us in place as my body pulsed with the need for release.

  Her breath hitched. “I feel you everywhere.”

  “You’re safe,” I whispered against her neck before taking her mouth again as she bucked against me. Her walls constricted around me causing exquisite pain, sucking me dry as
I chased the release she’d just had in my arms.

  Chests heaving against one another, I finally opened my eyes, forgetting I’d closed them.

  Her eyes were shining as she looked at me and then grinned. “We like foreign places.”

  “I couldn’t wait,” I admitted.

  “Me neither.”

  Slowly, I pulled out of her and rolled down her dress, we were a hot mess, but I just wanted to do it again, and taste her longer, hold her closer.

  “I love you, Marlo.” She wrapped her arms around me, and then slowly pulled that same dress over her head and tossed it to the ground along with her bra. “And I loved your letter.”

  “I figured it would be easier for you to read it, then decide how you feel, where you want to go, how you want the date to go.” I was rambling, but she was naked and I wasn’t there yet and I wanted to be but I also didn’t want to ruin this by just having sex with her every single waking moment of my life — no matter how good that sounded in my head.

  “My turn.” She gave me her back and then slowly waded into the chilly lake as the last remnants of sunlight disappeared and the moon showed its face on the horizon. She swam along and then turned back to me, treading water with a grin on her face. “You watching, lawn boy?”

  “Lawn boy?” I crossed my arms and smiled. “When was I not watching?”

  “Creeper.”

  “I’d like to think of myself as more of an opportunist.” I shrugged.

  She cackled out a laugh and then nodded. “I have a secret.”

  “Oh, yeah?” My fingers itched to pull my clothes from my body and join her, press a kiss against her neck and make love to her under the moonlight. “What’s that?”

  “I wanted you to see me. I skinny-dipped for you.” She lifted one shoulder, let it fall. “I figured one day you’d crack and join me.”

  “Sadly, I never cracked.” I inwardly berated my young stupid self and all his hatred and all his pain.

  “So?” She tilted her head. “Join now?”

  “But I’m just a lawn boy.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said quickly. “You’re Marlo, my Marlo. Talented actor, dancer, choreographer, camp director, best friend, lover, but most importantly… you’re mine.”

  I tripped over my own feet as I tried to pull off my shoes and jeans at the same time, sliding my boxers down so fast I was getting close to serious self-harm. I waded into the water and reached for her.