1983: Cruel Summer (Love in the 80s #4)

by Amber Lynn Natusch

  “Trust me when I tell you that this time, nothing can keep me from you. Nothing. If we do this, know that I’m all in.”

  “That’s easy to say now,” I said, my tone harsher this time.

  “I deserve that. I do. I can’t tell you anything to make you believe me, Iz. I know that. All I can tell you is that I’ve never lied to you, and I’m not about to start now.”

  I looked up into his eyes so earnest and eager, and I knew he wasn’t lying. He’d recognized the mistakes he’d made three years ago and took responsibility for them. But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that I wasn’t sure that I was ready to jump in with both feet again. Rejection and betrayal can harden you—make you incapable of things like blind trust. And rightfully so. Braxton was asking me for a leap of faith I wasn’t sure I was able to make.

  “That night…in your truck, when you kissed me. I swear to you that the world around us could have exploded and I wouldn’t have noticed. All that mattered to me in that moment was you. And the next day you yanked that away from me, leaving me feeling empty and insecure and devastated in a way that I don’t know that you’ll ever fully comprehend. In twenty-four hours, my life was turned upside down. Not even walking in on Jason screwing that girl registers anywhere near how I felt when you just jumped ship and ran from me. What you’re asking—what you want from me—I want to give it to you, and that scares me more than anything.”

  Once again, he took my face in his hands and cupped it gently, leaning in so close to me that our noses brushed.

  “I know I don’t deserve this, Izzy—deserve you—but I can’t stop myself from wanting you all the same. Maybe I’m selfish.”

  “Or stubborn.”

  “That too.” He laughed lightly, the sound of it knocking away the last remaining remnants of the ramparts I’d built around my heart. Whether I wanted it to be or not, it was his. “Are we doing this?” he asked, his lips gently grazing mine.

  “Yes,” I breathed, leaning into him. “Don’t fuck it up.”

  “Language, Izzy Lancaster.”

  “You want me, you got me, cuss words and all.”

  His lips locked onto mine and he kissed me deeply right there on my parents’ front steps. He held onto me like he’d never let me go, and, in truth, I didn’t want him to. Nothing in my life had ever felt more right to me than being with Braxton. Nothing. And in that moment I chose to surrender the past for real and succumb to the fantasy that he and I might be able to have a future one day. That we could make up for lost time.

  “I love you, Izzy,” he whispered to me between kisses.

  Without hesitation, I replied.

  “I love you too.”

  What had started off so sweet and tender soon turned hot and desperate, the two of us pawing at one another as we tried to open the front door to the house. That eventually turned into me giggling like an idiot while he fumbled with the keys, unwilling to stop kissing me while he did. He was a determined boy, I had to give him that.

  Once we managed our way inside, he slammed the door and scooped me up, marching his way up the stairs like he owned the place. Within seconds we were in my room and on my bed, writhing against one another. Years and years’ worth of pent up sexual aggression was finally coming to a head, sprinkled with just a tiny bit or residual anger and contempt. It made for a very hot make-out session, to say the least.

  His hands were up my shirt, down my legs, and almost everywhere in between. It was as if he needed to track every inch of my body to be satisfied that I was all there and accounted for. I, on the other hand, was fully content to grab his ass and pull him closer. Even through his jeans, I could tell how badly he wanted me.

  “Izzy?” His voice was deep and hoarse and sexy as hell in my ear. I feared I would do just about anything he asked if he kept talking to me that way.

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t…. If this is too much…”

  I answered the question he couldn’t bring himself to ask by reaching down between us and cupping him in my hand, giving a gentle squeeze for good measure. He moaned at my touch and ground himself against my hand. Needless to say, I think he got the message.

  Soon thereafter, I found my shorts unbuttoned and Braxton working hard to pull them down over my hips. I arched up as much as I could with his weight on me so that he could get them off. With one less layer of fabric between us, I could feel the length of him against me, and all I wanted to do was free it. I managed to get his jeans unfastened and he seemed more than happy to pull them off for me, tossing them across the room when he finished. I slid his shirt up over his head and threw it over by his pants. The two of us nearly naked together for the first time ever didn’t feel strange at all. In fact, it was disturbing how normal it seemed.

  “I didn’t bring anything with me,” he said, stopping for a moment to look down at me. “I didn’t plan for this to happen.”

  “Top drawer,” I said, pulling my shirt up over my head. The sharp sound of his inhale at the sight of what I’d uncovered brought a smile to my face. “You have seen me in a bikini before, remember?”

  “Different context, Iz. Very different context.”

  He threw open the nightstand drawer and rummaged around until he found a condom. Seconds later, his underwear was off and the condom was on and ready to go.

  “You’re sure about this?”

  I nodded.

  “Just no running away tomorrow, okay?”

  He dipped his head down and kissed me softly, a break from the frantic pace we’d kept up for longer than I’d realized.

  “No running.”

  With that, he slid my underwear down and tossed them aside before nudging his way between my legs. He teased me for only a second before sliding his way in. The feel of him inside me caught my breath for a moment. This was how it was supposed to be for us. This was what had been stolen by bad decisions and poor judgment and lack of communication.

  Never again would those things be a factor.

  That night, Braxton and I solidified our bond, and I knew that nothing could break it. We were stronger than we’d ever been. Stronger than either of us could have imagined. Together we’d figure out how to navigate this renewed relationship, and I had every confidence we would. We were a match made in heaven.

  We always had been.

  I woke up the next morning in Braxton’s arms, his body wrapped tightly around mine. It was as if his subconscious didn’t want to let me go. When I tried to carefully disentangle myself, he squeezed me to him, even while he was still asleep.

  “I have to get ready for work,” I whispered, not wanting to wake him. He mumbled something in protest and nuzzled his face into my neck. “Braxton, seriously. I have to go.”

  “Call in sick.”

  “Your sister will be all too aware that you didn’t come home last night, and I’m willing to bet that her first guess as to where you went is my place, so…”

  “Wendy can go screw herself.”

  “That might improve her mood some,” I said, sounding as though I thought his idea had merit. “But I’d still have to go to work.”

  With a heavy sigh, he threw himself onto his back, releasing me.

  “Fine. Go. But who’s the one running this time?” He was clearly joking, but he had to pay for that remark. I jumped on top of him and started to tickle him mercilessly. Braxton was notoriously ticklish. “Okay, okay! I give, I give!”

  “Just like old times,” I said with a smile. It earned me one in return.

  “That’s strange, because I don’t remember you naked underneath me before now. And I know I’d remember that trick you did with your tongue on me—”

  “Okay! That’s enough, big guy. I’m having a shower.”

  “Is that an invite?”

  “More of an informal notice.”

  I laughed as I ran out of the room, knowing that he would be hot on my heels. The way we were already acting, I wondered how we’d ever get anything accomplished.


  Or if I’d ever get to work on time again.

  Five minutes after nine, I darted into the pool house and threw my bag up on a hook. I was grabbing a flotation device when Wendy spotted me. I knew I was totally screwed.

  “I feel like I’ve asked you this once already this summer, Izzy, but you wouldn’t happen to know where my brother is, would you? He didn’t come home last night—again. I know you were at the movies with him and the stooges.”

  “What do you need, Wendy?” Braxton called from the other side of the concession counter. “Mom worried or something?” The look on Wendy’s face was priceless. I would have given anything to have had a camera there in that moment. Mouth gaping open, snapping open and shut like a fish out of water; it was a thing of beauty. By the look on Braxton’s face, he was enjoying the show just as much as I was. “I’m headed home now if you need me to bring you something—maybe some lunch or sunscreen?”

  “No. I’m good.”

  “Okay then,” he said with a smile, walking over to the open door next to the concession counter. The one that I was standing only a few feet away from. He looked in at me with, the devil in his eyes, and reached his hand out toward me. “You forgot these in the chaos this morning.” It was then that I saw that he was holding my sunglasses. “Don’t want anyone drowning because you can’t see.”

  “No. Wouldn’t want that,” I replied, staring at him with wide eyes. I took the sunglasses from him and turned to walk away but he caught my arm and swung me around, then planted one hell of a kiss on me. Right in front of his sister and anyone else that could see us.

  “See you tonight, Iz.”

  He sauntered down the corridor to the parking lot with a swagger I had never seen him possess. Braxton Bryant was in love and it showed. And it seemed that he had every intention of letting everyone in town know it, starting with his older sibling.

  When I turned my attention back to Wendy, I wasn’t sure what I would find.

  “Looks like you let him tell his side of the story.” Her satisfied expression let me know that she approved. Hell, I wondered if she hadn’t planned for this to happen from the moment she found me at Big Eddie’s trying to buy tampons.

  “You could say that.”

  “I’m glad. Now get your ass out there. You’re late.”

  I grabbed my stuff and walked out to my station, smiling ear to ear. Things were far from perfect between Braxton and me; we had a lot to still figure out, but knowing the Wendy approved meant something to me, even if it shouldn’t have. It was as though she’d known all along that he and I had belonged together.

  Work was slow that afternoon, the weather taking a turn for the worse, so Wendy let a couple of us go. I called Braxton as soon as I got home to let him know I was done early and if he wanted to come over sooner he could, but he didn’t answer.

  I tried him again after I showered and cleaned up the house a bit. Still, no answer. My heart started to race a little before I forced in a deep breath and held it for what seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t avoiding me, I told myself. He just wasn’t home. It was as simple as that.

  To busy myself, I made dinner for us, including a cake for dessert. Once that was done, I picked up the phone again and dialed his house. By the fourth ring, I was ready to hang up, but a voice on the other end stopped me.

  “Hello,” he said, breathing hard.

  “Hey. It’s me. I got home early today. I’ve got dinner ready if you want to head over.”

  “Yeah…sounds good.” He was breathing hard like he’d run to answer the phone.

  “Did I catch you in the middle of something?”

  “No. Sorry. I was outside.”

  “Oh. Okay. Well, I’m ready for you whenever you want to head over.”

  “I’ve got to take care of something, then I’ll be there.”

  “See you then,” I said, then heard the dial tone on the other end. He’d hung up without even saying goodbye. Once again, my chest started to ache a bit, remembering a time cut off from Braxton. A time when he’d been evasive. “It’s not the same,” I whispered to myself before hanging up the phone.

  Everything was ready to go, so I put the TV on to kill time. Waiting for him seemed to take forever, my anxiety growing with every minute. I hated feeling that way—like I had no control over the situation. I spent an entire year of high school that way. I had no intention of doing it again.

  Even though it had seemed like an hour, Braxton arrived about twenty-five minutes after he’d ended our call. I heard the rumble of his truck in the driveway. I turned the TV off and made my way to the front door. He was walking up the steps when I opened it. For a split second before he looked up at me and smiled, I saw something in his expression I didn’t like. Stress.

  “Hey, Iz.” When he saw me looking at him with concern on my face, he turned up the wattage of his smile, then scooped me up and kissed me until I’d almost forgotten that he seemed off. Almost.

  “Is something bothering you? You seem off?”

  He took a deep breath and dropped his façade of happiness.

  “It’s nothing really. Just stuff to do with Dad. It seems like I can’t escape his life choices even after he died.”

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say. What he’d said wasn’t overly surprising, having known his father. He was a criminal and an addict, and a general asshole to boot. I had no doubt that he’d left the family in a bit of a mess when he died. Their mother had been working at least two jobs for as long as I’d known her. She probably had three after he passed.

  “It’ll be fine.” He forced a smile that never quite reached his eyes. “And anyway, I don’t want to talk about that now. I want to eat whatever it is you’ve cooked that smells so amazing.” Taking my hand, he led me inside to the kitchen. “Well, well, Izzy Lancaster. You’ve been holding out on me. I didn’t know you could cook.”

  “Nobody ever let me do it back in the day. Besides, you haven’t tried it. It could taste like shit.” He shot me a scathing look, and I smiled back at him. “What? It’s true. It could.”

  He said nothing and walked over to the table. Fork in hand, he scooped up an enormous wad of spaghetti with at least half a meatball skewered on the end of it. He stuffed the entire thing in his mouth and started to chew. His cheeks were puffed out like a chipmunk in an attempt to keep his mouth closed.

  “If you choke, it’s your own fault. Do not expect me to deliver life-saving maneuvers because of your reckless eating habits.”

  After a solid minute, he finally swallowed.

  “Definitely doesn’t taste like shit,” he said with a wink.

  “Then let’s eat!”

  Cuddled up on the couch, we watched movies late into the evening. I loved the way he wrapped his arms around me while I laid against him. If I shifted even slightly, they would tighten, still subconsciously afraid I was going to run away from him and never return. As if I’d been the one to run away last time.

  “I can’t stay tonight,” he whispered in my ear. “I have to be up extra early tomorrow.”

  “So I’ll set the alarm early,” I argued, nestling into him even closer.

  “You’re not making this any easier.” His hands slid down my body to play with the waistband of my jeans.

  “I’m not trying to.”

  “It’s important, Iz. I’m meeting someone at the bank early before work. Mr. Coyen is coming in just to see me.”

  I pushed up to look at him.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No. I just can’t get in to see him with my job, so he agreed to meet me before they open.”

  “Oh. Okay…”

  “I can’t be late. Not with him making an exception for me. You understand, don’t you?’

  I forced a smile.

  “Of course.”

  “You know I’d rather be snuggled in bed with you than staring at that old coot. You’re much prettier.”

  “Thanks!” I slapped him in the arm befor
e resting back down in his arms.

  “As soon as this is over, I’m going to head out.”

  “I’ll allow it, but just this once.”

  “So gracious,” he said, nipping my ear.

  “You keep that up and you won’t be going anywhere.”

  “You think you can force me to stay?” he asked, a challenge clear in his tone. I sat up and straddled his lap, letting my hair down from its ponytail. It fell over my shoulder, and he immediately reached up to touch it. Then I watched his eyes go wide as I reached for the hem of my t-shirt, inching it up over my body. “You’re not fighting fair.”

  “Have you met my father? Defense attorneys are notorious for their questionable methods.”

  “Anything to win, huh?”

  “Anything.”

  I pulled my shirt all the way up over my head and let it fall to the floor. He stared at my chest, breathing hard.

  “Maybe I can stay a bit longer than I thought.”

  “Good boy,” I said, leaning in toward him. “I thought that’s what you’d say.”

  The rumble of his laughter vibrated through me as I pressed my body to his. A second later, I was on my back on the couch with Braxton between my legs. Whatever concern he’d had when he came over was long gone. All I saw in his eyes was hunger. And I loved how it looked. It remained there until the moment he left, nearly forty-five minutes later. It was late and we were both exhausted, but it had been so worth it.

  Sex with Braxton was everything I’d ever imagined it would be and then some.

  The next morning I had to open with Wendy.

  When I pulled up to the lot across from the pool, I didn’t see her car there. Knowing that I was only a couple of minutes early, I was a bit surprised. I made my way to the main building and lifted the metal door that kept people out during off hours and headed down the corridor to the office door. I unlocked it and went in, preparing the pool for operation. While I ran around doing the various tasks required to open, I couldn’t help but think it was strange that she wasn’t there. Wendy could be flaky, but she took her job very seriously. If she was supposed to be there, she would have been.