The Summer of Us: A Romance Anthology

by AJ Matthews

  “So who’s more jealous of our rising success?” she smirked, trying to shift the conversation away from a touchy subject.

  “Look who’s counting their chickens before they hatch now?” Jerome beamed at the ironic good fortune.

  Kenner's phone went off, and she saw the caller ID – the sophomore he'd been paired up with during his spring orientation.

  “Take it. I can handle your idiot friends.”

  “Hey! Some of us were on the honor roll,” Jackson retorted playfully. “And I didn’t cheat to get there or into A&M, so there.”

  They all laughed at his insistence that he really was more than a dumb jock. Jackson wasn’t the best on the team, but his grades had been even more abysmal until she’d convinced him to let her tutor him. Of all Kenner’s friends, he was the only one she considered a friend as well.

  “Sorry,” Kenner slipped into the seat. “That was Mark calling to tell me the wonderful news.”

  “About?” Jerome leaned forward, elbows on the table.

  "My professors. Apparently, I've won the lottery for hardest professors on the pre-law track. Fantastic." He stuffed the shake straw in his mouth and sucked up so much he coughed. "Turns out my suggested summer reading is now accompanied by a not so suggested eight-page paper defending the verdict on a court case of my choice."

  Biting her lower lip to avoid laughing she gave him her most sympathetic look. “My poor boyfriend. I guess you’ll be stuck indoors all day while the rest of us enjoy the rest of summer break.”

  “Ha ha. So glad my girlfriend is a caring and wonderful woman.”

  “Absolutely. I mean how many of your girlfriends volunteer weekly at the homeless shelter and put up with you jocks?”

  “Burn,” Jerome said with a chuckle. “Alright, I’m up for a boardwalk trip. Anyone want to come?”

  "Well, you're driving," Jackson shrugged and tossed his cup into the open trash can without a struggle.

  “I think I’d rather keep you to myself,” Kenner kissed the top of her head. “Since there’s a countdown till we leave and all.”

  “I think that sounds perfect – save me a seat next time you do Jerome. I still need to kick your butt at ice hockey!”

  “Keep dreaming, drama girl.” He waved and headed out the door with Carter and Jackson following close behind.

  “So,” she said, scooting her chair out and staring into Kenner’s perfect chocolate-colored eyes. “What are we doing tonight?”

  “Well,” he grinned, before kidding her softly, “I was thinking I could persuade you into watching a horror movie.”

  “Oh?” She cooed, snuggling up next to him as best as she could in the chair. “The kind with murderers and things waiting to scare me so I have no choice but to cuddle under a blanket with my handsome, strong boyfriend?”

  “Is there any other kind?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  She took a moment to just stare at him. Just a week ago she’d almost made the biggest mistake of her life. Now, sitting in the dinky little ice cream shop, she couldn’t imagine being anywhere but with him.

  “But what will we do until it gets dark?”

  “Well, my girlfriend did just point out how benevolent she is. Want to stop by the Boys and Girls club? I haven’t seen Trevor in a bit.”

  She loved the way he smiled when he spoke about the kid he was paired with to mentor. It had been community service the entire team had been forced into, but he’d stuck it out. There was something in Kenner that made him so much more than a handsome jock or brainy rich kid. He somehow melded seamlessly into every group he met, and it was just one of the reasons she loved him, his personality was infectious.

  His cell phone vibrated on the table, and she looked down, not even slightly shocked to see his mentor's name light up on the screen. For the first time since realizing she didn't want to be mature and do what was best for their lives at the end of summer, she remembered why she'd initially thought it was the best action. He was already so busy, and school hadn't even started. How could he focus on breaking away from his family's success to build his own if he was always looking for a time to talk to her?

  Her sigh slipped out, and she was grateful that he was too involved on the phone call to hear it – she didn't think she could answer any questions as to why she'd sounded so exasperated.

  Stop thinking about it. He’ll figure out how to balance the two, give him some credit.

  When he hung up, he looked at her, and she knew without him saying a word that something was canceled. Not wanting him to have to choose, she leaned over and kissed him.

  “Come on then, take me home. Go and spend time with Trevor, I’ll see you after work tomorrow for Melissa’s birthday anyway.”

  His smile was genuine, and he squeezed her hand. "I love you. You always put other people first, and I'm still bringing you to see Trevor. He would be upset if I didn't bring, and I quote, "the hottie," to visit him too."

  She laughed. Trevor was barely thirteen, and as inappropriate as they came with women because he was so adorable he could get away with it. "Sounds like a plan."

  Chapter Four

  Kenner couldn’t help but smile as he looked over at Leslie, shamelessly covered in dirt as she helped his mother tend to the garden. The sun made her dark hair shine and seemed to add a sparkle to her pale eyes. She was made for sun and summer, and he was seriously curious what was going to happen when she had to buckle down in a giant parka and snow boots to get to class.

  Maybe it’ll send her to sunny California for school – to me. He should have felt ashamed at the thought, but he didn't. In less than a month he was losing the love of his life to a distance that would be manageable, but not ideal. Every day they spent together was as ordinary as the day before it, until he went home and would think about what college would mean. They'd briefly discussed setting up a Skype schedule once they knew their classes, but he hadn't told her he'd been scheduling visits as well. He didn't like to throw around that he had money, so he didn't. Besides, Leslie lived for surprises.

  “You’ve got a little something, right there,” he brushed his finger on his cheek and smiled at her.

  “God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt,” she smirked and kept pushing the potting soil around the tulip bulbs they were planting. “Besides,” she called out with a seductive grin, “I’m pretty sure there’s a shower or eight I can use around here.”

  His mom snorted. "It's a good thing I know you're too good for my son or I'd be worried about comments like that while I'm right here."

  They all laughed, and he ignored the urge to go help simply to spend time with her. He had a black thumb, his mother had banned him from touching anything in her precious flower garden. Plus, he had at least another twenty pages to read to finish up the first of three summer readings.

  I have more homework in college than I ever did in high school and it’s not even day one yet.

  “You look like you’re contemplating suicide!” Leslie joked.

  He groaned and leaned back into the lawn chair. "At this rate, it's highly possible. It's been three days since I've done anything remotely fun!"

  A clump of dirt crashed into his knee, and he looked up to see Leslie less than a foot away with her hands on her hips.

  “I resent that. We went and helped me pick up some dorm supplies a few days ago.”

  He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her waist so that he could tug her closer to him.

  “And while I love spending time with you, helping you decide what silverware you want for your dorm is not my traditional definition of fun.”

  “Well, then I guess it’s a good thing for you when you come to visit they’ll be all of New York to see.”

  He bit his tongue to stop from reminding her that he’d been to New York a half a dozen times if not a full dozen. Though, he supposed being with her as she experienced them for the first time would be more than worth it.

  “Where will you take me first?” he
asked as he tugged her into his lap, not minding that his mother was mere feet away because Leslie was already one of the family to his parents.

  “That is a silly question – the zoo, of course.” She grinned and kissed the tip of his nose.

  The zoo had been one of their first dates. It had gone epically wrong from the start because he'd lost his credit card in the car forcing her to pay for everything because he hadn't realized it was just in the car and not missing. Then, she'd bent too far over to take a picture of an otter and had a dangly necklace had fallen off. All leading up to his car running out of gas because he'd been too busy to fill it up.

  Somehow, she’d agreed to a fifth date.

  "I think zoos are best left off the roster."

  Smirking, she stood up from his lap. “If you come to visit me anything is on the roster. Now, you need to get back to focusing. Oil tycoon’s don’t change into lawyers overnight.” With a grin, she bounded back toward the garden to help with planting gardenias.

  Despite her good humor about the process, he was beginning to realize that she was correct. He wasn’t going to become a successful lawyer by laying around all day and taking numerous trips and calls to New York.

  There are plenty of good pre-law programs in the Big Apple. The thought popped out of nowhere, and he squashed it. If she thought for a second that he was giving up his dream to stay close to her while she pursued hers, she'd drop him in a heartbeat.

  “But you’re not in school yet,” he said to himself as he stood up and dropped the pen to the ground. “Leslie!”

  “You rang, boyfriend of mine?”

  “I’m done being studious for the day. Are you up for a beach trip?”

  Her face blossomed with a smile. “As long as you don’t spend the whole time sitting with Jerome again.”

  “Jerome who?” he teased as he walked over. “Mom, is it okay if I steal your helper?”

  His mother sighed dramatically, “Well all right, if I have to let her go.” She smiled. “Enjoy the beach and don’t forget sunscreen. Either of you.”

  “Yes, Mom.”

  “Sure thing, Mrs. Smith.”

  He threaded his fingers with hers. "Give me three minutes to change, and we'll swing by your place."

  “Hurry, I can already hear the waves calling my name.”

  Dropping a quick kiss to her lips, he let go of her hand and turned to the house. There was absolutely more important than spending time hanging out with Leslie. Studying could wait for when she was at work.

  Chapter Five

  Kenner’s head spun as he eyes tried to travel in a logical order down the textbook page. All it got him was a bunch of fuzzy black words appearing to bleed all over the white page.

  Groaning, he shoved the textbook further back on the desk and leaned back over the chair. The distinct sound of his back popping was heavenly, even though he’d been hunched over for so long he didn’t actually feel the relief yet.

  The knock on the door brought his first smile in a few days.

  “Come in.” He grinned and spun around in the desk chair, still smiling when Leslie opened the door and went into his room.

  Her smile turned into a small frown as she looked around his room. “Am I too early?”

  “You’re right on time,” he stood and closed the space between them in a quick stride so that he could drop a kiss to her lips. “Why do you think you’re early?”

  With a laugh, Leslie gestured to the room. “You’ve got six different highlighters out on your bed, three on the desk, two spiral notebooks open on the floor and a textbook on the desk. It looks like I’ve interrupted study time.”

  “Nonsense,” he kissed her again, his lips lingering a moment longer than the first, enjoying the taste of her strawberry lip balm. “I feel like it’s been days since I’ve seen you.”

  “That’s probably because you’ve been locked away studying like summer is out of style.” She sat on his bed and leaned back on her wrists. "You keep this up, and you're going to miss out on the best part – the final days."

  His mouth went dry, seeing her sitting there. It wasn’t just the implication of stripping the black dress off and slipping into her body so much as the idea that one day, they might share a bed, a home, a life. It had been a little over two weeks since they’d decided to give their relationship a chance to organically work to a solution. He was still determined as ever to propose at the end of summer. All her arguments against spending the rest of their life together was that they would be too busy with school. So, he’d make something more permanent a choice so neither would worry about anything while in school.

  His gaze shifted to the second drawer in his nightstand, the one that held the black velvet box. A part of him was ready to ask during their dinner, but he knew she still needed more time to be convinced they could make it work.

  Chuckling, he ignored the nagging voice telling him to do something stupid and realized what she'd said. "How many weeks are left?" he looked at his calendar, stunned to see only two weeks without red slashes through them before the circled date of leaving for Stanford.

  “Yup,” she said when he turned back to her. “Two weeks. We went from eight to two awful fast, didn’t we?”

  He nodded. One week was trashed because they hadn't seen one another. The next week they'd spent next to no time together because he'd gotten the news about the summer schedule update. He could scarcely even remember weeks three and four. Now, they were down to weeks five and six before he picked up and moved to Stanford a little early to get settled easier. There’s not much time left. Shaking his head to clear the thoughts he tried to smile

  “You look beautiful, by the way.” He kissed her cheek.

  “And you . . . you look like you’ve spent the day studying.”

  He looked down and remembered he’d never stopped to change. “Two minutes. Tenner set the table with some overly stylized salad. You go start, I’ll be right there.”

  “And here I thought it was the woman who was always late.” He heard her mutter as she walked out.

  Though they weren't going anywhere, he still stripped off the gray sweat pants and pulled the sweaty wife beater over his head. Without bothering to swap socks, he opened the closet door and pulled out black sweats, a green button down and a matching bow tie. They always dressed as if they were going out, to make the evening seem more special even if the family chef had provided something.

  Glancing at the mirror, he left his room to meet her. She looked so at home sitting in the chair against the window – the chair she always sat in when she came over for a date or family dinner. She'd fit in perfectly from the first time he'd brought her home junior year, and he couldn't imagine his father would take to anyone else the way he did to Leslie. It had seemed, the same pull he'd felt, was just Leslie's typical personality.

  “You didn’t even wait,” he pouted as he sat down and laid the napkin across his lap.

  She beamed. “Your mother once told me never to wait for a Smith Man, so when you told me not too, I listened.”

  Shaking his head, he couldn’t help the smile crossing his face. Even his mother loved Leslie. “So, how have you been spending the last few days while I’ve been stuck in a cave working on assignments?”

  “Stuck in a similarly dark movie theater – though Chelsea and I did hit the beach yesterday.” She set her fork down, the salad bowl empty.

  "Oh, is that where you were in a tiny, red bikini?" he slid his hand across the table and held her hand in his. "And here I thought you just wanted to remind me what I was missing out on." His voice dropped an octave as the small touch seemed to set his body on fire. He cleared his throat but didn't let go of her hand.

  "I don't think I'm hungry anymore," she was looking up at him through her eyelashes.

  “I’m not much in the mood for dinner either.” He stood, pushing his chair back as he did so and extended his hand.

  Without hesitation, she slipped her hand into his, and he pulled her
against him, wrapping her in his arms.

  “We’re alone tonight,” he whispered before letting his lips touch hers.

  She moaned but said nothing else as her hands weaved into his fair hair, tugging his head down slightly. Her lips crushed against his as her hips rhythmically moved against his. Rational thought slipped away with every delicious press of her body against his shaft. Blood raced to his dick, and his hands fell to her ass, cupping it as he tugged her up and against him, relishing in the friction on his cock. It had been awhile since they’d had the time to sleep together and if he wasn’t careful, he’d blow his load in his nice dress slacks.

  “Leslie,” he moaned as her fingers easily undid the button on the slacks. His hips bucked as he felt the zipper slide over his erection.

  "I've always wondered what it would like to be naughty in a kitchen," she sunk to her knees and grinned up at him mischievously. "This is close enough and an incredible new journey before we say goodbye for a bit." She reached her hands inside his slacks and gently pulled his cock free from the boxers.

  His head was spinning. He understood her meaning, and couldn’t ignore the slight buckling of his knees as her lips brushed over his shaft.

  “Leslie,” he choked out again. She was adventurous, but they’d never done anything so . . . out in the open. His legs buckled as she swept her tongue over the head of his shaft and his hand caught on the table.

  She enveloped him then, as perfectly as any one person could. The heat from her mouth entrapped his length, and without hesitation, he began to gyrate his hips in time with the pull of her lips around him. Her moans were maddening as she continued a slow torture until he put his hands on her shoulders.

  "Stop, or I won't make it." The words were hard to say, and the cold air that rushed over him when she pulled him out was near pain, but still heightened his pleasure. "My parents are going to fucking kill me, but I don't care."

  Lifting her up, he seated her on the table, tugging her to the edge by her knees before trailing his hand slowly up her left thigh. A single brush of his finger over her core ensured him she was ready. He’d never been more grateful for the fact that she used the pill than at the moment because he sure as fuck wouldn’t have been able to walk to his room.