Bad Boy Summer (Bad Boys on Holiday Book 5)

by Sylvia Pierce

  “Really?”

  “You know, sometimes you just go-go-go, and you don’t even stop to ask yourself if it even makes sense anymore. If it ever did. You and Ash… being back here… no matter what happens now, I can’t regret it. It made me remember what I felt like when I was happy. It made me want to be that way again.”

  “Well, damn, girl.” Lizzie tugged on a lock of Pam’s hair. “Does this mean no more spreadsheets and anxiety attacks and hospital visits?”

  “No more hospital visits. But you can’t take my spreadsheets away from me.”

  “Didn’t think so. So what’s the plan?”

  “I don’t have a plan.” Pam dashed the lingering tears from her eyes, allowing an unexpected smile to creep across her face. She held it there, trying it on for size. It felt good. Right, even. Turning to Liz, she said, “And for the first time in my life, I’m kind of okay with that. More than okay.”

  “Damn straight you’re more than okay. You’re amazing, Pam. Whatever you decide to do, you’ll kill it. I know you will.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Pam said, though in her heart, she didn’t quite feel it. She was so relieved to have found Liz, to have gotten her secret out. So relieved that Liz wasn’t holding a grudge. She suspected the conversation was far from over, that they’d have a lot more to hash out tonight. Tomorrow. However long it took. But their friendship was solid; it could weather this storm, and anything else life threw at them. Pam realized that now. Deep down, she’d always realized that.

  But her insides were a tangled mess, her heart heavy with loss.

  Things had gone so badly with Ash, unraveling like a sweater with a snag. He’d said such horrible things, and then she’d said horrible things right back at him, snapped at him because she was scared and panicked and didn’t know what else to do.

  But like Ash had been saying all summer, that was the past. Ten years, ten days, ten minutes… it didn’t matter. It was already gone.

  She stood up on the rocks, held her hand out for Lizzie.

  All she could do now was move forward.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  What a fucking pussy.

  In a sticky booth at a diner a hundred miles down the Pacific Coast Highway, Ash sat hunched over a piss-warm cup of coffee and watched the sun come up through a filthy window, replaying all the shitty things he’d ever done in his life.

  It was a favorite pastime of his, raking himself over the coals, reminding himself that he didn’t deserve to be happy. Didn’t deserve love or friendship or any of the things Pam had offered him so freely. He’d proven as much to both of them by the way he’d acted yesterday—picking a fight, shutting her out, pushing her away just because he was too scared to admit the truth.

  And now he was leaving again, just like before. He knew it, knew it was a shitty thing to do, but he just couldn’t deal with this shit. The roller coaster of loving Pam, of carrying all that guilt about how he’d bailed in the past, of not knowing how to talk to his old man anymore, not knowing how to make up for lost time with Lizzie. He should’ve stayed gone, just like he’d told Pam—would’ve saved a lot of people some serious heartache.

  Besides, love? Love didn't last. That was all fairytale shit, far as he was concerned. Look at his old man—he’d loved Ash’s mother more than anything, but in the end, she died anyway. Love couldn't save her, couldn't save them. It turned his father into a shell.

  “Everything okay, hon?” The waitress interrupted his pity party, leaning over the table to top off his coffee. She nodded at the pile of eggs, hash browns, and bacon in front of him, untouched since she’d brought it out twenty minutes earlier. “If you don’t like that, I can bring you something else.”

  “It’s fine,” he said, his smile as weak and bitter as the coffee.

  “Nonsense,” she said. “You haven’t even touched it. Let me fix you up something special.”

  Despite his protests, she took the plate away, heading back behind the counter and into the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, she was back with a fresh plate—huevos rancheros with chorizo, piping hot, eggs piled high with shredded cheddar and diced jalapeños.

  “On the house,” she said. “Looks like you could use a little pick-me-up.”

  “Thank you,” he managed. The dish was one of his favorites, and the simple kindness cracked his fucking heart open. He didn’t deserve it, that’s for sure.

  Suddenly starved, he smothered his food with hot sauce and dove in, devouring it, trying to force thoughts of Pam out of his head. No use. All he could think about was those gorgeous blue eyes of hers, the way her face had crumpled yesterday when he pushed her away. He wondered if she’d found Lizzie, if they’d been able to talk things out. He wondered what she’d thought when she’d gotten back to Summerland to find he’d taken off on her—again. He wondered if she was pissed, or sad, or relieved.

  And most of all, he wondered if he’d ever see her again.

  Ten years ago, when Pam announced that she’d been accepted at NYU, months before his mother got sick and he’d decided to split, Ash knew right then and there that their lives were diverging. Even when they got together that summer, on the inside he still felt like he’d been run over by a Mack truck—fucking devastated.

  They’d all known Pam had big career aspirations, known that she’d applied to NYU. But she'd also applied at Berkeley, Stanford, and a few other places closer to home. He never thought she would actually leave California—not in a million years. Selfish and immature, maybe, but Ash had always thought he’d given her enough reason to stick around—especially after that summer.

  Now he understood that it was a hell of a lot more complicated than that—for both of them. But still, the damage had been done. They’d had their incredible summer. Then his mother died, ripping out the last of his heart. Ash had taken off, joined up with the army a month before Pam was set to leave for the east coast. He’d missed her every fucking day of his life. And somewhere along the line he vowed to himself he’d never let anyone close enough to make him feel that pain in his chest again.

  At the time, he’d meant it. Had every intention of upholding that damn promise for the rest of forever.

  Until this summer, when Pam came crashing back into his life again.

  God, thinking about what his life would be like without her—after having her back in his arms these past few weeks—made it hurt to breathe. They’d gotten so close this summer, so tight.

  Ash mopped up the last of his eggs with a tortilla, chased it all down with his coffee. Despite the shit he’d blurted out yesterday, despite all his “love doesn’t last” tough talk, deep down he knew he was full of shit. There was no pain he wouldn’t endure for Pamela Diederman. Nothing he wouldn’t do to make her smile, to make her feel safe, to make her his. Not just for the summer.

  Forever.

  Ash tossed his napkin onto the empty plate.

  So why the fuck are you sitting here, hundred miles away from your girl, crying into your coffee like a bitch?

  Why? That was easy.

  Because no matter how he felt about Pam, he just didn’t know if she’d give him the chance to prove himself. To make it work, despite the obstacles they might face—despite the mistakes he’d made. Despite the mistakes he was still making. And that, more than the stupid fight and everything else he’d told her, was the real reason he’d hightailed it out of there so fast yesterday.

  After the things he’d said… the way he’d hurt her… How could he face her again? How could he even try?

  “Excuse me,” he said, calling out to the waitress. “You know where there’s a motel around here?”

  “About five miles south, right off the highway. Placed called the Lucky-U. Can’t miss it—big horseshoe on the sign.”

  “Thanks.” Ash swirled the coffee in the mug, his thoughts a jumbled fucking mess. In about five hours, Pam would be on a plane to New York, probably gone forever.

  Now or never, dickhead.


  Ash had a choice to make.

  He could hole up in that shitty motel a couple days till Pam was back east, let her fade back into the recesses of his memory as if this summer had never happened. It was definitely the pussy way out, but it also meant no drama. None for him, and especially none for Pam. She could get back to New York, back to the business of forgetting him, and he could get back to the Summerland remodel. Finish up that work for his father. See if he might find a way to get off of Lizzie’s shit list again.

  Or, he could drive his pathetic ass back to Starfish Cove right now, man up, get on his hands on knees, and beg Pam for forgiveness. Tell her how he really felt. Find some way to prove to her that he’d never leave her high and dry again. Chances are she’d kick his ass to the curb anyway—Pam was the smartest woman he knew, and only a fool would give the likes of Asher Burke a second chance—but at least he could let her go knowing he gave it a fair shot.

  Fuck. Neither option was ideal, but those were the only choices he had. As he downed the last of his coffee, Ash was overcome with the sudden, bone-rattling sense that whichever way he played it, it would define him for the rest of his life.

  “You need a refill, hon?” The waitress grabbed the coffee pot from the warmer behind the counter.

  “Yeah.” Ash stood up from the table, tucking a twenty under the plate. “Make it hot, and make it to go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  On the morning of her scheduled departure, Pam awoke to an unusually quiet beach house. No hammering or drilling. No bacon sizzling in a pan on the stove. No banter between Ash and Liz. Even the ocean seemed subdued.

  The silence pressed in on her from everywhere, making her ache for all the things she’d already started missing. So much had happened in the last three weeks, and now it was gone in a blink.

  Some of it irretrievable.

  But she’d promised herself she wouldn’t dwell on the past. Ash had taken off yesterday, likely hiding out until after she was gone and the coast was clear, and as much as that had stung, she knew it was probably for the best. He’d made it clear that they didn’t have a future together, and Pam had to focus on her own future, just like she’d always done. She may not have a plan, but that wasn’t a free pass to wallow.

  No. Today was a fresh start, the first day of her new life. She’d have breakfast with Liz, call a cab to the airport, and get on that plane, refreshed and ready for whatever awaited her on the other side.

  Pam crawled out of bed, wrapped her hair in a messy bun, put on her glasses, and opened the door, hoping that she could ease the lingering sadness in her chest with a hot cup of coffee out on the back deck.

  But the sight outside her door nearly took her breath away.

  The floor was covered in a trail of Post-it notes, each one scrawled with Ash’s messy handwriting.

  He’s back…

  Pam’s heart slammed in her chest as she followed the trail of pink, yellow, orange, and blue squares down the hallway, out into the living room, picking them up and reading them one at a time.

  Deeds.

  Don’t leave.

  Not like this.

  I was wrong

  to say what I said.

  To run out like that.

  Last night.

  Ten years ago.

  I’m sorry for

  every fucking time

  I’ve ever let you down.

  The truth is,

  you scare the shit out of me, Pamela.

  Yeah, we’re not kids anymore,

  and a lot has changed.

  But not everything.

  Ever since our first kiss,

  maybe even before,

  I

  have

  been

  She was out on the deck now, her hands full of Post-its, the trail ending where Ash sat in his lounge chair, staring out at the sea.

  “In love with you,” he said, holding up the last note without turning around. It was bright yellow, with a messy Sharpie heart drawn in the middle.

  She felt the hot tears on her cheeks before she could stop them, and when Ash stood up to face her and pulled her into a hug, she didn't resist. Her heart was a wild bird, fluttering and flapping, her throat tight, her eyes blurry, her whole body trembling.

  But this time, it wasn’t a panic attack.

  It was Ash.

  No matter the tension between them, the fighting, all the hurtful things they’d said and done yesterday, the awful way he’d left, Ash’s embrace had always been her shelter in the storm. Once again she seemed to be finding her way right back there, right into his arms.

  Right where she belonged.

  The thought startled her with a shocking burst of clarity that was as comforting as it was frightening. She did belong with Ash. Always had.

  But that didn’t change the fact that he’d left.

  “I… I don’t know what you want, Ash.” Pam pulled out of his embrace, turning her face up to meet his gaze.

  His eyes blazed with heat, with desire, and something so much deeper than that: love.

  “You,” he said, cupping her cheeks in his big, strong hands. “Us. It’s all I fucking want. All I’ve wanted since the moment I saw you standing in the kitchen in that black bikini, looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes like you couldn’t believe I was still alive. And every night since then, every second I spent in this house with you, I wanted you more. Hell, I wanted you ten years ago. Fifteen years ago.”

  Pam’s breath caught in her throat, her mind spinning. All the times they’d been together, right from the start, he’d already loved her. “But you… you…”

  “I’m in love with you. I’m more in love with you than I’ve ever fucking been in my life, and I’m scared out of my mind.” His gaze swept her face, lingering on her mouth, then back up to her eyes. In a ragged whisper, he said, “Please say something, Deeds. Even if it’s just ‘fuck off.’ I need to hear you say it.”

  Pam curled her hands around his forearms, the feel of his strong muscles warm and familiar beneath her touch. She was scared, too, and telling him the truth—admitting how she really felt—would open her up for more heartache. If she confessed her feelings, and he left again… God, she couldn’t bear it.

  Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of keeping another secret. Not even this one.

  “I loved you then, Ash. I love you still. Always.” Her old feelings for Ash had never gone away, no matter how hard she’d tried to get over him; all along they’d been there beneath the surface, simmering. But after this summer, she had new feelings, too. Complicated, messy feelings that frightened as much as they exhilarated her.

  Pam closed her eyes. “I just… you left. You left yesterday. And you left ten years ago, without even saying goodbye.”

  “I didn’t leave because of you.”

  “I’m not saying that. I just meant… you don’t like dealing with the complicated emotional stuff. I get it. I never blamed you for that.” Pam shook her head, fresh tears gathering behind her eyelids. “But love is complicated. It’s messy. It’s hard sometimes, and you can’t just bail whenever it gets tough. That’s not how it works. I missed you back then. For so long I waited for you to call or text, email, anything. I thought I’d pushed you away.”

  “No. No way. Come here.” Ash sat down in the beach chair, pulling her into his lap. She curled against his chest, the spot that had somehow become her favorite summer place, losing herself in the clean scent of his skin, the feel of his arm around her, holding her close.

  Ash pressed a kiss to the top of her head. In a soft voice, he said, “My mother didn’t want a funeral. Did you know that?”

  Pam shook her head. After Mrs. Burke had collapsed on the beach, things had gone downhill so quickly after that. She didn’t remember anyone talking about last wishes or funeral arrangements—just, Mrs. Burke was here one day, gone the next, and then there was a funeral, and Ash wasn’t there.

  “She fought with the old man about it for days befor
e the end,” Ash said. “Practically begged him to just cremate her, let people say goodbye in their own ways. But you know my father—the man wouldn’t budge.”

  “Does Liz know?”

  “I don’t think so. I never said anything to her. Never said anything to anyone—I don’t think my father even knew that I’d overheard all this.”

  Out on the beach, the tide was coming in, a swift breeze kicked up. Pam was still in the T-shirt and sweats she’d slept in, and the chill in the air made her shiver. Ash wrapped her up tighter.

  “One night,” he said, “they had a pretty killer fight about it. Lizzie was over at your place, but I was right there—heard the whole thing. Mom was crying. Dad was crying. It fucking sucked. Dad took off to get some air, and I went in to sit with her.” Ash took a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing Pam tight. “Mostly, she was just babbling at that point, totally spent from arguing with the old man. But one of the last coherent things she said to me… she grabbed my hand and looked me dead in the eyes, said, ‘Ash? Go see the world, baby. Get out of here. Don’t let me catch you crying over my dead body.’”

  Pam smiled softly. “Sounds like something she would say.”

  “Yeah, well. At the time I thought I was doing the right thing. She didn’t want a funeral, didn’t want me to see her like that, so I promised her I wouldn’t. In my twenty-two-year-old brain, it was that simple. And as for skipping town, well… you were heading off to college. Lizzie and Dad had always been tight, so I knew they’d be there for each other. And Mom… she wanted me to get out and see the world. Add all that to the fact that my head was spinning and my heart fucking shredded, and you get a kid who runs at the first chance he gets.”

  “Ash.” Pam buried her face in his neck, tears sliding down her cheeks. It was the most he’d ever shared with her, and she felt like he’d given her a gift, one-of-a-kind, something she would always cherish. It killed her that he’d gone through so much pain alone. There was nothing she could say to ease it, so she just held him tight, his warm breath stirring her hair.