If the Summer Lasted Forever

by Shari L. Tapscott

  As soon as Landon’s up the ladder, I sit on a bale, waiting for him to join me. Even though it’s been haunting my thoughts all week, I didn’t bring Landon here for the same reason other couples find the space so appealing. I came to escape.

  Outside, the music gets even louder, which convinces me that I made the right decision. I don’t feel like being fun and social—that’s Paige’s thing, not mine.

  “There’s actually hay up here,” Landon says, sounding bemused by the quaintness of it.

  “Technically, this is straw.”

  Landon sits beside me. “Are there mice?”

  “Scared?” I tease him, though he doesn’t sound nervous. I scoot closer to bump his shoulder—or maybe I scoot closer just to be closer. “Misty has lots of cats prowling the property. I think we’re safe.”

  He turns his head, meeting my eyes in the dark. Though I can’t see him well, I can tell he’s smiling that crooked smile of his, the one that makes my knees weak. “I, too, will protect you from tiny rodents should the need arise.”

  “That’s very brave of you,” I say with a laugh, and then I look down at my hands, which I’ve clasped on my lap. “Thank you. It was much easier facing him for the first time with you there.”

  Landon only nods—maybe he doesn’t know what to say. This is a weird situation we’ve gotten ourselves into. We say we’re fake dating, but I’m genuinely attracted to him, and I think there’s a chance he likes me too. My mind wanders to our almost-kiss, and my pulse quickens. We’re alone, entirely by ourselves. There’s no reason to kiss him now, not when it won’t help convince people of our ruse. But I want to.

  Oh, I want to.

  “Do you think we were believable?” Landon asks.

  “Hmmm?” My eyes are focused on the lack of space between us, on Landon’s arm pressed next to mine as we share the bale of straw.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Landon look my way. “Do you think we were believable? As a couple?”

  Slowly, I look up. Our eyes meet, and my stomach tightens. “I think so.”

  His expression is enigmatic in the dark—I have no idea what he’s thinking, but I know what I’m feeling. There’s an invisible cord between us, drawing us together.

  He waits another moment before he says, “Maybe we should practice.”

  I think he means to say the words playfully, but there’s a dark catch in his voice that tunnels under my defenses. It makes me forget all the sound reasons why I stay away from summer boys, especially ones as tempting as Landon.

  “Probably,” I find myself answering, even though a tiny, still-sane part of my brain screams warnings at me, desperately hoping I’ll listen.

  But I push those warnings away, smother them while dwelling on sensations instead—the feel of the cold mountain air surrounding us, the flickering firelight, the fresh scent of Landon’s cotton shirt blending with the smell of the straw.

  “For the sake of credibility,” he murmurs. We’re close enough his words tickle my lips.

  Fully distracted by his mouth, I nod. “Absolutely.”

  We wait for the other to change their mind, to back down from the unspoken dare. So much more in tune with my senses in the dark, I can feel my heartbeat, hear each breath Landon takes.

  Several moments go by, then a few more.

  And then, when I think I will simply die if he changes his mind, he wraps a warm hand around the back of my neck, and our mouths meet.

  It’s a testing kiss, the tentative kind that starts slow but builds until it takes your breath away and makes you forget your own name. Landon’s lips are firm, soft, perfect. I angle toward him, tossing my leg over the straw bale to straddle it and reach him better. His hands settle at my waist, a warm contrast to the cool night, and he pulls me closer still.

  For several moments, I forget that we’re pretending—I forget about Thomas and Gia and worrying over Paige. There’s nothing but Landon and the dusky light.

  Only voices from below could interrupt the single-minded bliss that is kissing Landon. The two of us freeze, lips only a breath apart, listening. His spearmint-scented breath fills the space between us, and I want nothing more than to meet him once again.

  But there’s an abrupt giggle and the sound of shuffling as someone—or maybe two someones—climb the ladder.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I set a single finger over Landon’s lips, alerting him to be quiet, and then I take his hand and creep from the bale, farther into the darkened corner. There’s more straw here, stacked up three high, but next to the wall, there’s a gap with just enough room for two people to sit in reasonable comfort.

  Gia’s whispered voice fills the hayloft, and then Thomas’s joins her. I tense, and the warm, languid feeling fades and is replaced with dead, impartial irritation.

  “He’s doing it on purpose to get a rise out of you,” Landon whispers, his lips next to my ear so Gia and Thomas won’t overhear. Then he wraps his arms around my middle and tugs my back against his chest, holding me tightly. The move is comforting. The spark between us has faded to a companionable simmer. “Ignore them. We’ll sneak out as soon as we can.”

  I close my eyes and lean into him, trying to pretend we’re alone again.

  Suddenly, the music comes to an abrupt stop. I hear several raised voices, one of which I’m positive is Misty’s.

  “What’s going on out there?” I hear Gia ask Thomas. He’s just answering when the overhead lights flip on, washing the barn in a harsh fluorescent glow.

  I shrink further into our straw-bale-surrounded cubby. Beside me, Landon does the same. We’re mostly hidden, even in the light, but we don’t dare move.

  The old ladder creaks and groans as Misty climbs up it, muttering under her breath.

  “Gia,” she says, her voice hard. I can almost picture her with her hands on her hips and a hard scowl on her softly wrinkled face. “Just what do you think the two of you are doing up here in the dark?”

  Gia, obviously nervous, lets out a sharp giggle.

  “Go on,” Misty says. “Party’s over.”

  Landon and I stay still and hidden as the three leave the hayloft. Their footsteps echo as they walk across the wooden floor below, and then it’s silent.

  “We should probably get going too,” Landon says, inadvertently whispering the words across the back of my neck.

  I shiver. “Yeah.”

  He stands and helps me to my feet. We manage to sneak from the barn without anyone noticing and slip into Landon’s Suburban just as the last few stragglers are leaving.

  Landon’s quiet, but so am I.

  I wonder if some part of him feels guilty for kissing me. Maybe he feels like he cheated on the girl he’s not with anymore. Part of me feels guilty as well, but not because of Thomas. No—it’s not that. It’s because I can feel my convictions slipping away. My protective walls are crumbling, letting Landon in. And as good as it feels right now, it’s dangerous. When you care, you open yourself up to pain. Most of the time, I think it’s better to keep your distance. It might be lonely, but at least it’s safe.

  Landon parks next to my Jeep and turns off the key. He stares out the front window and drums his fingers over the wheel a few times before he turns to me. Like him, I’m still in my seat, not wanting to leave…but not sure I should stay.

  He doesn’t say anything. He just sits there, studying me with his eyebrows slightly drawn together and his lips pressed into a thin line. And, oh, those lips.

  I need to say something, diffuse the situation. The air feels so charged, I’m surprised it’s not sizzling.

  Looking away, I unclip my seatbelt. “Well, I think that went all right, all things considered.”

  “It did,” he agrees.

  I give him a big, flirty smile. “And I suppose we’ve concluded we don’t necessarily need to practice…our…um…”

  A smirk plays at the corner of Landon’s mouth as I flounder to finish the sentence.

  “Chemistry?” h
e offers, his expression perfectly serious except for a hint of a devilish smile.

  “Yeah. That.”

  Unable to stand the tension any longer, I open my door and step into the night. Landon does the same, and just as I’m softly shutting the door, he rounds the front and steps into my space. “But it might have been a fluke,” he says in an impartial voice that makes it seem as if our daydream-inducing kiss was nothing more than a science experiment.

  I impulsively step back. “What?”

  He cocks his head to the side. “The chemistry.”

  My mouth goes dry.

  “We should probably test it again—just to be sure.” He takes another step in.

  I find myself nodding. Yes, test it. Of course we must.

  He shifts like he’s going to pull me into his arms. “We’ll have to try it again soon, just to be sure.” His voice is a velvet caress, and I feel myself slipping.

  Just when I think soon might mean now, he steps back. “Night, Lacey.”

  I blink several times and then stand a bit straighter. “Right…night. You too.”

  He follows me as I turn to walk to the back porch. I set my hand on the doorknob, reluctant to leave just yet. Landon waits until I open the door before he jogs down the steps. “See you tomorrow. Maybe we can grab a pizza? I still haven’t tried the place in town.”

  “Okay,” I say, feeling a bit dazed.

  Standing halfway inside the door, I watch him drive around the front of the house and don’t go inside until the crunch of the gravel fades.

  “How was your date?” Mom asks when I step into the living room. She and Uncle Mark are on the couch, watching a movie.

  Not a date. We might have held hands, kissed, and ended the night with him walking me to the door…but it wasn’t a date.

  Mark pauses the movie so I can answer. He and Mom turn their eyes on me, both too attentive. I know they’re trying to show interest in my life, but it’s awkward.

  “It was fine.” I sit on the arm of the chair next to the couch.

  “You’re home early.”

  “The party got a little wild, and Misty shut it down.”

  Mom narrows her eyes. “How wild?”

  “I didn’t drink or do drugs if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Appeased, she nods.

  “Good job, kiddo,” Uncle Mark says and then offers to restart the movie so we all can watch.

  I decline and start for my bedroom, but before I’m out the door, Mom says, “You’re okay, right? You had fun with Landon?”

  My heart twinges because I’m more than okay, and I had a little too much fun.

  I like Landon. Like, really like him.

  Which is probably bad.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A knock at the door pulls me from my laptop. Earlier today, the Tillmans posted the video that contained the footage of Landon and me at the bonfire. It already has thousands of views.

  The comments are enough to make my head spin. Dozens of people ask if Landon and I are together. Some people gush about how cute we are; others seem upset Landon’s already moved on to another girl.

  Why do they care? Honestly, some people are just obsessive. (Thinks the girl who’s watched the video half a dozen times already.)

  Leaving my laptop on the couch, I answer the door, fully expecting Paige.

  Busy with Tanner, she hasn’t been around as much lately. She’ll get bored and break it off eventually, and then I’ll see more of her again.

  Ours is a stable friendship, and I don’t mind. Especially since she sends me emoji-filled texts several times a day just so I don’t feel ignored.

  Still, Tanner’s lasted longer than I expected, and I don’t like it. I have this awful feeling about him, and I’ll be glad when he’s out of the picture.

  But it’s not Paige on the other side of the door.

  “Hi,” I say, startled to find Landon.

  We haven’t talked since the party. In fact, I didn’t see him all weekend. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I’ve been hiding in the house.

  “You’re avoiding me again.” He crosses his arms and leans against the door frame. His light green eyes are bright despite his serious tone.

  Just seeing him does funny things to my stomach.

  “No,” I protest, stepping aside so he can come in. “I’ve been…busy.”

  “Oh yeah?” He nods toward the open laptop, displaying the paused video, and a grin steals across his face. “What’s that you’re working on?”

  I rush over to the computer and snap it shut. “Not that.”

  He raises his eyebrows, waiting.

  Giving in, I plop onto the couch, motioning for him to join me. “Gray Jay celebrates its anniversary in the middle of July, and the campground hosts a barbecue every year. I decided to make flyers this year, but I’m not very good at it.”

  Self-conscious, I open the laptop and quickly close the browser, revealing the sad design. Even I can tell it looks terrible.

  “You even work while you’re at home,” he jokes.

  I roll my eyes as Landon pulls the laptop onto his lap.

  “This is…” he begins, trying to hide a grimace.

  “Awful.”

  He laughs. “I was going to say a good start.”

  He’s so close, his leg presses against mine. I try not to think about it—and definitely try not to think about our kiss, though that’s an impossible mission.

  “Care if I tweak things?” he asks, gesturing to the screen.

  “Be my guest. In fact, start over.”

  Anything he comes up with has to be better than what I had.

  Immediately engrossed in his task, Landon opens a new screen, uploads a few pictures from his phone, and gets to work. After a few minutes, unable to handle sitting so close to him, I wander into the kitchen, leaving him to it.

  “What are you doing in there?” he calls after a while.

  I put the finishing touches on two chocolate chip cookie sundaes and bring them into the living room. I sit next to him…though not as close as before.

  “You are the best faux girlfriend I’ve ever had,” he says, greedily accepting the ice cream.

  “Have you had many?”

  He smirks and takes a massive, boy-sized bite. It should be disgusting, but it only makes me laugh. As he eats, he continues to work.

  I watch him, more than a little impressed. As I finish the last bit of caramel syrup at the bottom of my dish, I tell him, “You’re really good at this.”

  “I hope so.” He makes a few final tweaks. “I’m thinking about studying graphic design.”

  “You definitely should.”

  The finished flyer looks incredibly professional—in fact, it looks like we hired someone to make it. And it took him less than thirty minutes.

  “Thank you,” I say, wholeheartedly meaning it.

  He saves the file and closes the computer. “Don’t think too highly of me. My motives were entirely selfish.”

  Our eyes meet, and I’m unable to look away. “How is that?”

  “I’m bored, and you’ve locked yourself away for the last few days. Now you have no excuse to avoid me.”

  “I wasn’t avoid—”

  “Yeah, okay,” he says with a laugh. His phone rings as he’s dragging me off the couch.

  He pulls it from his pocket, and the smile drops from his face. The phone continues to ring, and he stares at the number.

  “Landon?” I ask, growing a bit worried.

  He looks up. “It’s Evie.”

  “Evie…like, your Evie?” And though it’s none of my business, I feel sick.

  He’s already shoving the cell back into his pocket, but I put on a nonchalant expression. “You can answer it if you want.”

  “Should I?” he asks, unsure.

  No, I think, but I say, “Why not?”

  He nods, hesitant, and then answers the call. But not like I expect.

  “Why are you calling,
Evie?” he asks, his tone flat.

  It would be enough to send chills down my spine if I were on the other line.

  “We’re not together anymore,” he responds to her answer, and this time his tone is a little softer. “And it really isn’t your concern.”

  She must have seen the video, which means she’s still watching the channel. If I were to take a guess, I’d say she still has feelings for Landon.

  I turn away, worried I’m intruding, but there’s nowhere for me to go. It would be rude to leave Landon alone in my living room, wouldn’t it? Well, that’s the excuse I’m going to use so I don’t feel so guilty about eavesdropping.

  “It’s Lacey, not Stacey,” he corrects, making me wonder if she messed my name up on purpose. Unable to help myself, I turn back to face him. Our eyes meet, and he holds my gaze. Then, enunciating each word with precision, he says, “I like her. A lot.”

  Tingles travel my spine, spreading to my limbs. The way Landon’s looking at me, the way he’s holding my eyes, makes me think that he means it. That maybe he said it for my benefit, not in response to something his ex-girlfriend said.

  He ends the call a few moments later, and I look away, feeling a bit overwhelmed. What’s happening here? This pretend relationship is starting to feel like more.

  “I’m hungry,” he says out of the blue, sliding the phone back into his pocket.

  I look back. “What?”

  He offers his hand. “Let’s get hamburgers.”

  I stare at his palm. “We just had huge sundaes. How are you hungry?”

  “I’m a guy—it’s kind of our thing.” He wiggles his fingers, waiting for me to accept the invitation.

  Giving in, I take his hand. There’s something sweet about holding hands, something indescribably fulfilling.

  It’s also extremely intimate, in some ways more so than kissing. And it scares me.

  But it’s exhilarating too. As Landon leads me from the house, I decide to focus on that and push my doubts aside.

  We walk out the door and find Mom and Uncle Mark in the front. She’s leaning into him, and he has his arms wrapped around her back.