Boyfriend for the Summer (A Second Chance Enemies to Lovers Romance)

by Penny Wylder

  “How could she know? I think we’ve only spoken a couple of times.”

  Eric chuckles softly. “She’s a good judge of character. And I think she’s figured it out.”

  “She has definitely figured it out.”

  He laughs again. “Before we leave, we’ll talk to them together.”

  “About what?”

  “About anything you want.”

  I wrap my arms around his neck and just hold him. This feels so nice. Just simple touches and connection. “I wish we could sleep together,” I say, my voice muffled by his shirt.

  “We’ve slept together.”

  I shake my head. “You know what I mean. Just to sleep. I like being close to you.”

  Eric looks at me. “I could find a way.”

  “A way that doesn’t involve sleeping on the ground outside?”

  He chuckles, running his hands down my ribs. “Maybe not. But maybe. By the way, I’ve been working on something.”

  “On what?”

  “A song.”

  My heart kicks up into a faster rhythm. “A new one?”

  He nods. “I wrote it after the night at the waterfall. It’s for you.”

  Heat floods my cheeks. “Do I get to hear it?”

  “If you want.” Eric seems a little breathless, and I realize that he’s nervous.

  “If?” I pull him into a kiss. “Of course I want to hear it. No one’s ever written me a song before.”

  He shrugs. “I don’t think that it’s very good.”

  “And I’m sure that it’s brilliant.”

  I see the shadow of his smile in the dark. “Thank you.”

  “So, when do I get to hear this magical melody?”

  “What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?”

  I think. “There was a crafting class, but trust me when I say that I would much rather be with you.”

  “Then meet me at the waterfall at four. I’ll play it for you.”

  “I can’t wait,” I say. “I really can’t.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up.”

  “And don’t beat yourself down,” I say, poking him in the chest.

  “Fair enough,” he says. “I deserved that.”

  But then he’s kissing me again and nothing matters in the world but the soft feel of his lips. “I should go,” he says. “The others might be coming soon.”

  “Okay.”

  One final kiss, and he leaves. I miss him already. I love you, I think into the darkness, listening to the soft sounds of his retreating footsteps.

  At Red Rock you’re not supposed to use your cell phone. The service is spotty anyway, but we keep them for emergencies. But I can’t resist this time. I dig my cellphone out of my suitcase and turn it on.

  Leena is still in Europe so there’s no way that she’s going to answer, but I have to tell someone about this feeling so I don’t go crazy.

  So, I type. I met a guy. At camp. And I think that I’m falling for him hard. I’m not sure what to do about it.

  To my shock, Leena types back right away.

  OMG!!! WHAT? Who is he? Do I know him? TELL ME EVERYTHING.

  I stifle the laugh that comes out of me, so I don’t wake the few people who are already sleeping in the cabin. No, you don’t know him.

  What’s his name? Maybe I do.

  I blush in the darkness. No names yet. It makes it too real.

  Okay but seriously Persephone. I’m going to need you to tell me absolutely everything else right now.

  I know she’s serious when she calls me by my full name. And the whole reason for texting her in the first place was to tell her. So I tell her everything.

  Almost everything.

  15

  Persephone

  Present

  Bonfires were always my favorite part of camp. At least the parts that weren’t hanging out with Leena and Eric. There’s always a beautiful camaraderie with plenty of chocolate and marshmallows to go around.

  As I help prepare for the bonfire—unwrapping a truly absurd amount of chocolate bars—my mind drifts to a specific bonfire that I spent with Eric.

  And now we’re here again.

  I followed him to the broadcast shack on instinct. Needing to feel him and tease him and prod him. But I’ not sure that was the real reason I did it. I want to fuck him and the tension between us is stretched tighter than a trip wire. And everything that happened in that shack was so unbelievably hot that I’m going to remember it for a long time. No doubt resurfacing when I’m alone and can act more effectively on that memory.

  But I got a text message today from Leena. Completely innocent, but it was asking how I was faring in our old stomping grounds. And I’ve felt guilty as hell all day.

  I know that I’m not technically doing anything wrong. Leena and Eric haven’t been together in over a year, and the last time that they dated wasn’t for very long. But it seemed to really hurt Leena. That’s the only reason I can think for the complete purge of him from every aspect of her real and online life. Me sleeping with them would feel like a betrayal, I’m sure.

  And yet, the only thing that has enough power to make me forget about betraying my best friend is fucking him again. And so that’s what I did.

  But I still have nervous energy coursing through my veins. I’m unsettled and restless. I hate it. So I’m pushing everything I have into unwrapping chocolate, and eating more of it than I probably should.

  I look over at Mabel, who’s organizing the marshmallows and graham crackers. “I’m assuming we don’t have any adult beverages in the campground, do we?”

  She chuckles. “No, dear.”

  “Shit,” I whisper under my breath.

  “What did he do?”

  I go still for a second before starting to unwrap and break more bars. “Who?”

  “Eric.”

  “He didn’t do anything.”

  Mabel smiles in that knowing way that she has—that she’s always had. “If you say so.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  She rolls her eyes now. “The rest of us aren’t stupid, Persephone. And I saw you two when you were together the last time. You’ve been attacking those chocolate bars like a woodpecker in heat, so I know you’ve got your bug up about something. All your campers sing your praises, and so do the other counselors. But I see the way you and Eric look at each other. He did something. You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, but it’s a simple process of elimination.”

  I gape at her. There’s a reason that Mabel is still here. She’s the witch, fairy godmother, and loving grandmother of Red Rock Summer Camp all rolled into one. “He didn’t do anything,” I whisper. “I did something. Or I let it happen.”

  “I see you took your cryptic pill today,” she says.

  “It’s complicated, Mabel.” I drop the chocolate and sit on a stool across from her.

  She smiles a little half smile like the fucking Mona Lisa. “In my experience dear, nothing is actually that complicated. People say it’s complicated when it involves something that they don’t want to face. Either about themselves or about someone else. So, which is it for you?”

  Fuck, I hate that she’s right. But in this case, I don’t want to face things about me, Eric, or Leena. “Is it okay that it’s both?”

  “Yes. As long as you know the real reason.”

  I sigh. “Okay but is it wrong if I don’t want to deal with it?”

  “Not necessarily. Nobody likes discomfort. But is it going to be better in the long run if you get it over with?”

  There’s no telling. Because it could go either way. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Then is it better in the long run to know or to ignore it and just attack chocolate?”

  I make a face at her. “I hate you and your logic.”

  Mabel grins. “Me and my logic have survived worse. Why don’t you go and see if they need any help with the fire? We’re almost done yet and we’re about to start.”


  “Okay.” I hop off the stool and head to the door, but she calls after me before I reach it.

  “Seph?” I turn and look. “For what it’s worth? Not knowing will always be an open wound.”

  I press my lips together, flexing and clenching my hands. I was afraid of that. “Thanks, Mabel.”

  “Any time.”

  The bonfire is a hit. For sure. All the kids are enjoying themselves, and everyone is being a good sport about some of the silly games that we’ve decided to play—even the troublemakers.

  You can have s’mores any time you want to, but there’s something about making them at an actual campfire with friends that creates something truly special. They taste different. Like magic. My hands itch for a pen to write down the words flowing in my head, but I force it away. I gave up that habit a long time ago. The only reason it’s surfacing at all is because I’m here.

  The bonfire is by no means small, although the first one is always the smallest of the summer, because the base of this fire serves as the base off all the rest of them. Building and building until the last night of camp where it’s a blue so big the counsellors have water and fire extinguishers stashed within easy reach.

  That first summer with Eric, the final bonfire was eventful. I wonder if this one will be too.

  “You know,” one of the male counselors says. “It’s a pity we don’t have anyone to play music. I thought Joey would be back this year with his guitar.”

  There’s a chorus of agreement from both the staff and the campers because it’s true. Having music here right now would be perfect. And there’s one person that I know still has a guitar. I spotted it in his cabin after we had sex.

  Glancing across the fire I make eye contact with Eric and raise my eyebrows. “We do have someone who can play…” I say, and all eyes turn to him now.

  He laughs like it’s a good joke. “That was a long time ago Persephone.”

  “I don’t know,” I smile. “I think everyone would love to hear you play.”

  He’s about to defer again, but the kids jump in. They want him to. It’s entirely possible that more than half of them want him to play so that they can make fun of him later, but I know that won’t happen. Because Eric is good. There’s a reason that he’s pursuing music.

  But he hasn’t talked about that at all to me. I know he lives in New York, and I know he has an agent who’s trying to make him a star. Leena told me about those things. But he hasn’t. Not so much mentioned the words New York or music. And I think tonight I need to know why.

  If I’m going to face things the way Mabel suggested that I should, I need to know why he’s here and not there. What went wrong? Why isn’t he pursuing his dream?

  Finally, Eric relents. “Okay, okay. I have to go get the guitar from my cabin and I’ll be right back.” He smiles at me and shakes his head like he can’t believe that I did this. But I can’t believe that he thinks I wouldn’t. I know how talented he is. You don’t just lose talent like that.

  There are cheers from the campers as he stands and walks off into the dark to get his music, and I roast myself another marshmallow.

  I feel the way I did when I was seventeen. Like I’m in this perfect bubble that I don’t want to burst. Is it really better to know? At the expense of what could be something beautiful?

  If I face everything I need to face, what happens if it goes wrong? That will be a long and awkward summer working alongside Eric and not being able to touch him or kiss him or—

  Fuck.

  The thought stops me in my tracks. I’m falling for him all over again. And not in the way I’ve been holding a candle for him for years. This is real. Oh god.

  I love the sensation of falling. I always have. And it’s one of the reasons I’ve always remembered that summer. But falling means that you’ll likely get hurt. I don’t know if I can take another heartbreak. But if it is going to be heartbreak, then I agree with Mabel. Sooner is better. Because then you can move on if you need to.

  Eric walks out of the darkness with his guitar, and he’s never looked so beautiful, or so like a rockstar. The light from the fire glows along his frame, glinting off the instrument. The dark jeans he has on show his powerfully built legs, and the shirt he has pushed up to the elbows gives me a glimpse of those perfect, toned forearms.

  I have no idea what makes that part of the body hot on men, but it is. Holy shit.

  I’m the person that he looks at when he steps into the circle of light, and that small smile makes my stomach do a flip. His blue eyes are almost turquoise in the fire’s light. Like the color of the water the day he took me under the dock that summer. Oh my god, I’m in so much trouble.

  Where’s the chocolate? Chocolate is good for panicking, right?

  Eric settles back down in his seat, and everyone gets quiet. “What should I play?”

  “Smoke on the water,” one of the adults says, and everybody laughs.

  One of the kids suggests a song that I know has been one the radio recently, and Eric goes quiet. “Yeah,” he finally says, though his voice is rough. “I can play that.”

  Clearing his throat, he starts to strum the guitar. I’m having déjà vu in this moment. Especially when he looks at me and starts to sing. His voice is haunting, like it was made for this song’s lyrics which are about love and finding where you belong.

  On the radio it’s still a ballad, but it has a soothing, peaceful tone. This is bittersweet and mournful in the best way. It doesn’t change the mood of the people surrounding the campfire, but it sharpens it. We’re all hanging on Eric’s every note, because he’s a goddamn brilliant musician.

  If any of those people in New York he’s working with in New York can’t see that, they’re not very good at their jobs.

  The song ends, and everyone cheers. No one is going to be making any snide comments about Eric’s guitar playing tomorrow. No way in hell. Immediately there’s more song suggestions thrown out from every side, and he laughs. “Okay give me a minute. Somebody starts writing down a list. If I know it, we’ll play it.”

  He takes a swig out of the water bottle sitting by his feet and grins as the teens scramble for a piece of paper to give him. “Seph, you got a piece of paper?”

  I understand why he’s asking. When we were last here, I never was without paper or that little notebook. I filled it to the brim with thoughts about came and thoughts about him. But no more. So I shake my head.

  Eric looks confused and troubled for a second before an actual person yells that they’ve got it and chaos ensues as everyone is yelling song titles. It takes a few minutes, but they get it together. At this rate, we’ll be here all night singing.

  And honestly, as long as I get to watch him, I wouldn’t care.

  16

  Eric

  Six Years Ago

  I’m not freaking out. Nope. Not at all.

  At least that’s what I’m trying to tell myself in order to get my nerves to calm down. I’ll never be able to actually play the guitar if I’m so jumpy that my hands are spazzing out.

  But I’m so afraid that I’m going to mess up while I’m playing for Seph. It’s crazy, because I don’t have stage fright. Playing in front of people has never bothered me. But this is Seph. And not only that, it’s the song that I wrote for her.

  This is what I want to do with my life. I love making music because it makes people happy and smile. And I’ve worked really hard on it. But playing for Seph feels a little like melting in the sun. I’m not sure if it’s good or bad, but I told her I would.

  I’m already sitting on our rock by the waterfall. And I don’t give a shit if this path ever opens again and everyone comes and hangs out and spends time here. This will always be our rock. Here. Together.

  Seph comes out of the trees and she’s already smiling. Practically bouncing on her feet. My stomach drops through my feet. I’ll never doubt anyone again when they say that they’re nervous to go on stage. I swear that I never understood it before now.


  “Hi,” she says.

  I clear my throat. “Hey.”

  My guitar is in my lap and I don’t move to touch her or kiss her because if I do that, I might lose my nerve entirely. Or get so lost in her that I just will forget what we’re supposed to be doing here.

  “I’m excited,” she says, and I manage to smile.

  I clear my throat again. “It’s just the beginning. It’s not perfect or anything. So if I—”

  “You don’t have to make excuses, Eric. I want to hear you play. I’m not here as a favor.”

  The tension in my chest releases a little bit, but I’m still nervous. I hesitate for a little longer, and Seph gives me a look. It’s teasing and playful but it’s also telling me to get on with it so she can listen.

  So I start to play. Thank fuck that I practiced, because my fingers already know what to do and I can rely on them. I got my fair share of teasing from my friends about the lyrics that I’m about to sing, but the song grew on them, and they were all supportive of me when I told them that I was finally going to play it for her. Which is good.

  It was impossible to sleep after I left her that night in the waterfall. I had never been so awake. And it was all because of her. The lyrics for this came pouring out of me like they were already written, and I was just noting them down. The melody came not long after. It’s the easiest time that I’ve ever had writing a song. And my first ever love song.

  I start to sing, and my heart is in my throat. The lyrics are about her. And about us. Being vulnerable together and experiencing everything for the first time together. How our connection feels so deep that I don’t think that time and distance could ever truly sever it. About how I love her, and us together.

  Halfway through the song, I dare to look up at her. Seph’s lips are parted and her eyes are shining. She looks wrapped up in the music, hanging on every word and note. She looks so fucking beautiful, I’m going to remember the way she looks right now forever.