Step Summer

by Gallagher, Tanya

  I complete my set, but no amount of exercise is enough to drive the thought of her from my mind, so I finish out my workout and head toward the front door.

  I drop my dirty towel in the bin by the front desk, and Susie smiles at me. “Saw what you did for John over there.”

  I nod and flick my eyes back at the kid. He’s doing better, I see with a sting of pride.

  “You know, we need more personal trainers around here.”

  I bring my eyes back to Susie’s face. “Oh, I’m not a trainer.”

  Every trainer I’ve had in my life has let me down. Hell, my trainer on the Knighthawks was the one who kept writing pill prescriptions for me long after I needed them for actual pain management. Another enabler in the very worst way.

  Susie shoots me a look. “Maybe not, but you could be.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod and wiggle my keys out of my pocket. “I’ll think about it,” I say before I walk through the doors and back toward McKenna.

  It’s a nice thought, but I’m not anyone’s role model yet.

  * * *

  I’ve just opened the trunk of the Jeep when McKenna opens the sliding door and steps out onto the deck. Guess that answers the question as to whether or not she’s awake.

  “What are you up to down there?” She leans over the railing to peer down at me. Her toned legs flex under her cutoff shorts, and she’s wearing a loose tank top, tied into a knot to show off the tanned skin of her stomach.

  I pull a pot of flowers out of the trunk and lift it up to her.

  Her face brightens, and a smile stretches so wide that it makes my heart thump. “What are those about?”

  I pushed her last night, and our fight was partly her and partly me. But today I want to make her feel better. I’ve spent too much time in my life being selfish. That’s the thing about addiction—it’s the most selfish you can get. Everything is about you, about chasing that high, that feeling. Right now, the only thing I want to chase is her smile.

  “Thought you might want to do a little gardening,” I call up to her.

  McKenna walks around the side of the house and disappears. I hear her feet pounding down the steps, and a second later she appears in a pair of worn out Converse sneakers. She’s still a little pale, but her hair looks damp and clean.

  “Are these for me?” she asks.

  She looks so eager and hopeful—so much better than the crushed, defeated face from last night and from this morning. We should be spending time with people our own age instead of each other, but she’s here and she’s mine and I can give her this day. Nothing’s going to take that from me right now.

  I nod my chin at the flowers. “Did I make a good choice?”

  After the gym, I drove to three damn stores on the island, trying to find the best possible plant selection for the girl who wants to be a florist. When I finally found a store I liked, I stood in the aisle for a good half hour trying to decide which plant to pick. In the end, I couldn’t choose, so two different varieties came home with me. All the better for her.

  “The best.”

  She makes grabby hands at me, so I pass her one of the pots. There’s a fragrant peony inside, and she buries her nose among the leaves and breathes deep. Her eyes flutter closed so I can study her face—the tiniest hint of freckles scattered on her cheeks, her long, blond eyelashes. And her lips. God, her lips. The perfect bow shape pulled into a soft smile.

  I step away from her and lift one of the pots so there’s something physical between us. Maybe this was a stupid idea because another second and I’m going to touch her. I know how it feels to hold her, and my arms ache with her absence. But she’s not mine to want.

  McKenna opens her eyes and makes a disappointed face when she finds I’m halfway across the yard.

  I arrange the pot in between a few of the existing bushes, and I’m not surprised when I hear her footsteps at my back. I look over my shoulder. “What do you think of this here?”

  “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  I nod and walk away from her, heading back toward the garage to grab supplies. Then I make myself busy, digging a hole, loosening the roots of the plant, and setting it carefully into the earth the way she showed me. I’m starting to understand the appeal of gardening, the way it feels good to have your hands in the soil, making things lush and beautiful.

  I stand and wipe my hands on my gym shorts, then walk over to McKenna. Her hair spills over her shoulders as she kneels in the dirt, patting soil around the roots of her plant.

  “When you’re done, you need to put on your bathing suit,” I tell her.

  She sits back on her heels and peers up at me. “I do, huh?”

  “You do.”

  I head inside to change, and from upstairs in my bedroom, I hear the sliding door open and close. I smile to myself and pull on my board shorts. I still stink from the gym, but where we’re going, there’s no point in showering. Just going to get messy again anyway.

  When I emerge from my room holding a few beach towels, McKenna’s standing in the living room wearing nothing but that tiny pink bikini from the bathroom. The one that smelled like her. Her body looks like an amusement park ride, from her perfect breasts and narrow waist to her curvy hips.

  My cock throbs and I lower the towels to cover my crotch.

  Jesus. Why does being around her make me feel like I’m nineteen again? I’m walking into fire.

  McKenna’s face is uncertain. “I didn’t know if I should put on shorts or pants or whatever. Help me out here.”

  “You’re perfect.”

  Shit.

  I toss one of the towels at her. “Just grab flip-flops.”

  She cocks her head at me but follows me through the door and down onto the street without another question.

  McKenna walks beside me, then breaks into a laugh when she realizes we’re going to the beach, just a block away. “I see what you’re doing here,” she teases as we walk across the dunes. A gentle breeze makes her hair stream out behind her like a flag.

  “Taking full advantage of the resources.”

  Well, not full advantage, but that’s a thought for another time.

  I strip off my T-shirt and drop my towel onto the sand as the sky starts to go pink overhead. Somehow the day’s slipped away from us, but it feels sort of timeless to be here, too.

  I dive into the water without thinking, let the waves buoy me up until I’m weightless and floating. It’s cool but perfect, and we’re the only ones on this stretch of beach.

  I turn back to the shore, where McKenna’s standing at the edge of the water. “You coming?” I call to her.

  A worried wrinkle runs between her eyes. “You know sharks come out at sunset.”

  I huff out a laugh. “Live your life, Kenn. You’re too young to be worrying about improbable things. Worry about what you can control.”

  She nods and draws a line in the sand with her toe. I still don’t know if she’s going to come in, if this whole thing was going to be a stupid loss. But then she says, “The only thing I can control is this moment right here.”

  “Then how do you want to live it?”

  My chest loosens as she takes a step forward. I smile as she dives in.

  13

  McKenna

  July

  I’ve never been one of those people who takes a while to warm up to the water, lowering myself in inch by inch. I’m the throw-yourself-in kind of girl, and Blake’s invitation feels like a dare, like a challenge, like a test.

  I want to pass.

  I dive into the waves, and the water envelops me all at once, so blindingly powerful as it wraps me in its embrace, so fucking cold the air crushes from my lungs. I surface from the waves, breathless, and find Blake treading water, looking at me with so much admiration on his face that my heart sings.

  I swim out closer to him, then flip onto my back and bob there, looking up at the sky. It feels like my whole life is bottled here in this day. There’s
a song and an ache in my chest. A longing to swallow this moment whole.

  No matter how he sees himself, Blake’s somehow become one of the best people I know. He’s always giving and giving, making me feel like I deserve everything I want. It’s dangerous, I know, to want so much. But he makes me feel like it’s okay to ask for the things I need. The problem is he’s becoming one of them.

  Even from here, I feel his presence, like the water’s a conductor for the electric energy sparking between us.

  “What do you say?” he asks. “Was this a good idea?”

  Just then, something brushes against my ankle. I squeal and haul ass out of the water, breathing heavy and so very full of everything.

  Blake laughs from his spot in the water, but not like I’m silly. He laughs like it’s making him happy to be here in this moment with me.

  “Guess that’s my cue,” he says and swims toward the shore.

  As he stands, the ocean clutches at his waist and rivulets of water sluice off his skin. The water’s dark in his hair, sunset light touching his skin and tracing the contours of his toned body. He looks like a model, like the poster boy for everything I want, and my cheeks heat as I remember my shower fantasy about him.

  I reach for my towel and hold it to my face, willing my heart to calm down. Whatever’s happening here, Blake’s part of it, too. There’s something building between us that feels huge and unstoppable. I might have a very real crush on the one man I can’t have, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting him to want me.

  “You hungry?” Blake steps up next to me, still dripping wet. His board shorts cling to his chiseled frame, and I force myself to look at his face instead of his abs.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you a hot dog and s’mores kind of girl?”

  I smile. “Is that even a question?”

  He grins back at me. “Good answer.”

  We head to the house to grab supplies and throw on cover-ups. Then we walk back to the beach, where Blake builds us a bonfire on the sand.

  A text message from Brooke pings through as the flames finally catch on the dry wood. You okay? Looked pretty wasted there last night…

  I’m good, I respond, feeling Blake’s eyes on me.

  Blake take good care of you?

  A stabbing guilt courses through me.

  I’m still kicking.

  I’ll bet you are. The little winky face Brooke sends makes me grit my teeth.

  What the hell is she implying?

  Thanks for checking in, I text, then turn off my phone.

  I want to live here in this bubble. So sue me.

  I stand up from my beach towel and skewer a few hot dogs on a stick. Then I turn to Blake. “How do you like your dogs—barely cooked or blackened?” I toss my head to the side. “Keeping in mind that I can’t control the flames and the odds of a blackened dog are high.”

  He gives me an amused look. “Blackened is just fine.”

  I hold the stick over the fire, standing back from the flames as far as possible, but heat still licks up my arms.

  “Thank you again, for today,” I say quietly, staring into the fire as it pops and smokes.

  His voice rumbles at my back. “You bet.”

  “I feel like I don’t deserve how nice you’re being to me,” I confess.

  “You do.” When I look over my shoulder at him, he’s leaning back on his elbows in the sand. “And what’s a florist without some flowers?”

  My throat feels thick, and longing sits heavy in my chest. I want him to stop being so nice to me because it makes every line between us blur.

  “I do want a cutting garden,” I tell him. “Buying flowers to make my own arrangements isn’t cheap.” I pull the hot dogs out of the flames and inspect them. As I suspected, they’re fully black.

  Blake sits all the way up and digs a few buns out of the bag we carried down, then holds them open for me to place the dogs inside.

  “I don’t want to ask if it’s a sore subject,” he says, “but why aren’t you working at a flower shop this summer instead of the Putt-Putt Hut?”

  “Ah, good question.” I hand him a hot dog and then bend down to grab ketchup from our bag. “I’ve worked at the Hut with Brooke every summer since I was legally allowed to. It’s always been us having fun together, and the pay is pretty great since Brooke’s dad owns the place.”

  I squirt on some ketchup and offer Blake the bottle. When our fingers brush, electricity races up my arms. I sit on the blanket next to him as he doctors his hot dog.

  “Brooke and I are roommates at school,” I hurry to add, needing to focus on something other than my stupid body. “If I don’t go back, I’m going to let her down, too. This summer feels like one solid thing I can give her.”

  “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

  “What?” I try not to squirm under the weight of his unfaltering attention.

  “Try to make everyone else happy. Your parents, your friends.”

  I jut out my chin. “It’s not a bad thing.”

  “As long as you’re not putting yourself last.”

  I shrug, a little uncomfortable with just how well he pinned me down. “I guess so. Anyway, I’m trying to be better about it. And I’m really, truly considering the flower business.”

  “You should,” he says, and then he grins. “But maybe I shouldn’t say that.” He bumps his solid shoulder against mine. “Shoulds are no good, right?”

  “Damn straight.” I take a bite of my hot dog.

  “What I’m saying is you’re young, McKenna. You can make mistakes.”

  I snort. “I’m not that much younger than you, and there’s no age limit on making mistakes.”

  Blake nods, and his face softens. “No, I guess not. And if you try your business and it doesn’t work out, you can always move on to the next thing.”

  “Cheers to that.”

  “And as for Brooke and your parents and anyone else, the people who love you are going to be there for you no matter what. And the rest, well, maybe they’re not the right people in your life. You need to take care of yourself, live the life that makes you happiest.” It feels like he’s trying to tell me more than just about my life. Like it’s advice he wishes he was taking himself.

  “Is that a lesson you learned the hard way?”

  There’s something sad behind Blake’s eyes, and I want to hold him. Instead, I set down my hot dog and shove my hands into the sand, let the grains trickle over my fingers like they’re spilling through an hourglass.

  “Yeah.”

  For a minute I think that’s all he’s going to say, but then he rubs a hand over his hair and glances out at the horizon. “Everyone likes to ride the success train, and I gave people who I thought they wanted—athlete Blake, party boy Blake. Not too many stuck around when my addiction took over and I became human Blake again. They only wanted the god.”

  “I like human Blake,” I whisper, and his hazel eyes lock on mine.

  “I’m very human right now,” he says, his voice quiet and real. “I’ve hurt people and made a million mistakes. I’m getting my life together again, but I still want things I shouldn’t have.”

  My stomach dips and my heart races, and I feel so many things at once I can’t even begin to name them.

  Let me be one of those things.

  “It’s okay,” I whisper back. “I want things I shouldn’t have too.”

  14

  Blake

  July

  McKenna’s barely been gone for work for five minutes when I hear the crunch of gravel in the driveway.

  I smile into my Cheerios, and when the screen door outside the kitchen starts to open, I call out, “What did you forget this time?”

  “What?”

  Jodi stands framed in the doorway, clutching a duffle bag to her chest.

  Oh, shit.

  I swallow my cereal, even though my throat’s dry, and stand up to greet her.

  “Hey.” I give her a one-armed hug, struck b
y just how much she looks like her daughter. Or how much McKenna looks like her, I guess. “What are you doing here?”

  “Your dad and I decided we’ve been working too much this summer and we wanted to come see you guys for a few days.”

  “Right,” I say. “Sure.”

  She pats my shoulder. “Why don’t you go see if your dad needs help carrying anything in?”

  I force my face to stay neutral, but I’m starting to understand how McKenna felt when I showed up a few weeks ago. It’s like someone’s crashing my party. My private party, which I was enjoying very much.

  “You bet.” I walk to the top of the deck stairs and look over the edge. Down in the driveway, a pile of luggage sits at my dad’s feet.

  “Bring enough bags for two days?” I call down to him.

  He looks up at me and laughs. “Can never be too prepared.” I walk down the steps and he claps me on the back. “You know women. Their clothes may be tiny, but they bring lots of them.”

  “You have to have options,” Jodi calls from inside the house.

  My dad shakes his head and mouths, “Busted.”

  I help him bring in the bags and set them in the guest bedroom just off the kitchen. Then the three of us stand awkwardly near the kitchen table.

  “Where’s McKenna?” Jodi asks.

  Even the sound of her name makes me wish she were here. I’m already in this way over my head.

  “She just headed off to work.”

  “Good,” my dad says. “We want to catch up with you.”

  Lovely.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I’m playing host in a house where Jodi’s surely spent more days of her life, and it’s a weird, disorienting feeling. This is all temporary—this summer, this house. I keep acting like none of this is going to end, but there’s another life I’ve got to go back to.

  My dad declines the offer, and Jodi says, “That’s okay, I’ll help myself.”