Then Summer Came Read online

  I tossed the phone on the counter and stared at it, like I thought I might’ve been able to blow it into a million pieces with just an angry stare.

  The front door shut, and I moved around the counter so I could see who it was—even though I already knew.

  Beck was kicking his shoes off by the door. I watched as he fiddled with his belt, then slid it off and tossed it at the couch. He reached over his head and pulled at his shirt. The muscles in his back rippled as he pulled it over his head, and his tattoos stretched in the sexiest way they knew how. I eyed the wicked looking trees on his side, their branches twisting around onto his back, and my mouth went dry.

  I didn’t see Derek's body much; he almost always kept it concealed under an overly-expensive suit. So, when Beck just came in and casually stripped in the living room, I tended to melt.

  I never knew how distracting it would be to have his body even slightly exposed to me that often. His clothes always hinted at how perfect he looked underneath and reminded me of how perfect Derek looked naked. It made it difficult for me to concentrate on anything else, when all I could think about was what was under that tight, white t-shirt.

  I was freakin' pitiful when he came up from the gym, shirtless, sweaty, and clinging sweatpants that always seemed to be just barely hanging onto his hips: easily the most ridiculously sexy thing I've ever witnessed. They seriously should've kept a giant poster of Beck, shirtless, hanging in the fitness room in front of the treadmills as motivation for the other tenants.

  He looked exactly like my fiancé…it was eerie. They had their differences, but he still looked so much like Derek. I have to admit, I did love seeing Derek at the front door, undressing and kicking his shoes off. I knew it was Beck, of course, but it looked like Derek, so I just enjoyed the show. I would’ve given anything to see Derek by the door every day, like I saw Beck.

  He finally stopped his mesmerizing, assumingly-unintentional strip tease, and his eyes met mine.

  “Oh, hey,” he smiled. “I didn’t realize you were standing there.”

  I cleared my throat and nonchalantly said, “I just stopped by to get a phone number.”

  “Well, stay. There’s a billiard room downstairs,” he said, smiling.

  "Yes…”

  “Well, you any good?”

  I teetered my hand and turned my lip up in an eh-I’m-alight-I-guess manner.

  “Good enough.” He clapped his hands together and grabbed his shirt off the couch and slid it back over his head, and a little disappointment pecked at me.

  Chapter Seven

  I bounced the rubber end of my pool cue off the floor, humming idly while he chalked his cue. I observed as he racked the balls and set the game up.

  “You wanna break?” he offered.

  I shook my head, and he bent and aimed his cue. The balls cracked and shot out in all directions and three solids found a pocket.

  “Solids it is.” He sounded satisfied with himself.

  Honestly, I was a house rules kind of girl. I liked to call what I was from the beginning and just shoot the balls in, but he played pool with all of the rules intact.

  I missed my first shot but managed to sink a ball a few times, and he cheered me on when I did. However, the trash talk commenced when I only had one more ball on the table than he did.

  Beck had one ball left on the felt and he called the back, left pocket and lined his shot up. The red ball bounced off the edge of the pocket and he grumbled.

  "You want someone to show you how that shot is really done?"

  I looked over at the busty, half-dressed woman, who’d taken my opportunity for trash talking Beck. She was wielding a pool stick and smiling suggestively at him, chewing the side of her bottom lip.

  "Hmph." The sound shot from my throat without warning. I didn't mean to do it, but she was so overly-confident looking, and it truly irritated me. She needed to put her tits back in her shirt and mind her own damn business. Beck didn't need her slutty pool lessons.

  "Oh, I think you should definitely show me," Beck chuckled.

  My eyes shot to him. Of course he wants her to show him…he's Beck. I tried not to roll my eyes, but it proved impossible.

  The busty brunette sauntered over, pool stick in hand, and bent over the table, flinging her long hair over her shoulder and into Beck's face. She adjusted her feet so that her daisy-duke “covered”—if that’s what you want to call it—ass wobbled back and forth.

  Seriously, right now? I scoffed but no one seemed to notice. I don't know why I was so bothered by her. I just wanted to walk over and snap her spaghetti strap and tell her that she can look sexy without looking like a skeez. I do it every day!

  Beck moved into her, pressing his crotch into her ass and leaned over her back, his hands settling on her hips. He looked over her shoulder, down her arm as she slid the stick in and out of her fingers, biting her lip. His index fingers slid just under the waistband of her frayed shorts.

  “See,” she said in the dumbest voice I’d ever heard.

  "Oh, is that what I did wrong?" Beck asked. His voice was low and rough.

  She nodded, smiling.

  “Oh, okay.” He smiled his face nudged in under her ear, and I saw him take a deep breath like he was taking in her scent.

  I almost gaged. What did he smell on her, the smell of a thousand tanning beds, stale cigarettes, and the back seat of an unimaginable number of cars?

  She turned around to face him. I scoped the room uncomfortably as she pawed at him, and I finally just stepped in and shot the remaining three balls into a pocket—they weren’t going to! I had to shoot the last one aimed at her ass, considering she'd shimmied onto the edge of the damn table.

  She had her stick between her knees, and she was provocatively stroking it. Beck had his hands on her thighs and was leaning into her whispers. He giggled sheepishly, which I knew was phony, and the girl slipped her hand into the front of his pants, just like that. I felt my mouth drop open a little. Was she really going to do that in public?

  Beck grinned over at me and mouthed, "I'll see you later," with a wink and a nod at the random.

  I shook my head with a heavy sigh, and I rolled my eyes so far back into my head they hurt.

  He tugged the random out into the lobby, and I fed a dollar into the dance game in the corner. Guess I’d be finding something else to do for the night.

  

  "Morning, tiger," I said as Beck padded into the kitchen, disheveled and...sexy. Ugh, I wished Derek was there.

  He rubbed at his face, laughing into his hands. "Morning."

  I observed him as he pulled a glass from the cabinet and loaded it with a nasty-looking, green protein shake he’d just blended together. "Sorry about that," he said as he sipped the thick, repulsive gunk.

  "What's that?" I asked coyly.

  "Last night. Sorry I just left. Sometimes I forget how to think with anything other than my dick."

  I smiled into my juice glass but didn't say anything else about it. I knew full well that he only thought with the organs between his legs. No one thinking with their brain would bring home the trashy randoms he did.

  I pulled out the bread and peanut butter and grabbed a butter knife. I was spreading some peanut butter onto a bread slice when I noticed him watching me. I looked up from my sandwich. “Want one?”

  “Hu?”

  “A sandwich, do you want one?”

  He scrutinized me. “You’re gonna make me a sandwich?”

  I raised a brow at him. “Only if you want one…” It sounded like a question.

  He looked at me as if I had some hidden agenda. It was just a sandwich. What the hell? He ate sandwiches all the time.

  “Sure,” he finally said, “I’ll take a sandwich.”

  I grabbed two more slices of bread and then handed him his sandwich, making sure to give him a strange look so he knew he was acting wacked out over a damn peanut butter sandwich.

  He took a bite, glanced over at me ag
ain, and then continued to eat the sandwich. "You should come to the club with us tonight."

  "Who is ‘us’?"

  "Me, Mik, and a couple friends of ours. They're going to the opening of a new club. They have a dance floor, just your scene." He winked and raised his brows at me, obviously poking at my love of eighties dance moves.

  I cracked up at his ridiculous smirk. "From what I remember, it's your scene, too."

  He shook his head, grinning. "I don't dance," he said with a now-straight face.

  "That's not how I remember it."

  "Well you were sauced," he added, matter-of-factly. "So, will you come?"

  I thought for a second and decided that'd be perfect for Derek. He needed to relax and let loose a little, and I needed to see him. It was the perfect thing to drag him to.

  "Yes!" I exclaimed, and he jumped back at my unexpected excitement. "I'm gonna make Derek come,too."

  I was so tired of his all-important job, his full schedule, and him never having time for us! He was stiff and overworked. He just needed to get out…and so did I.

  He called later to apologize for the previous night’s rude-ass phone call, and I took the opportunity to guilt him into going to the club with us. Beck was right: it was going to be fun, and Derek and I both needed fun.

  He agreed to go, and he actually sounded a little excited about it, which thrilled me to no end. So much so that I couldn’t even sit still long enough to dress myself.

  My phone rang again as I was getting ready to leave, and it was Em. She sounded groggy and half dead. She asked what I was doing and nearly cried when I said I was going out with Derek and Beck. I could hear her happy dance through the phone. “I am so freggin’ there!” she shrieked. She was so excited to get away from studying, and even more excited to get to meet Beck.

  I met up with her outside the club, and I called out for her. She came running—well, it was more of a scuffle in her stilettos—and clashed into me with an intense hug.

  “I can’t believe you’re here!” I cried into her thick, flowery-scented hair. “And you look amazing for a half-dead person,” I joked at the way she’d sounded on the phone.

  “Ugh, I feel dead, but we’re about to turn that around quick, fast, and in a hurry.” I followed her into the club and she split to get our drinks. “Just beer, lots and lots of beer!” I told her, and she threw her thumb into the air as she scurried off.

  I spotted Derek across the room talking to another guy. My heart nearly stopped. I couldn’t believe he was actually there. He looked so sexy with his usual gray suit on, his hand jammed casually in one pocket. His back was to me, so I couldn’t see who the other guy was to know if I’d be interrupting, but I didn’t really care.

  I darted through the crowd to where he was standing. "Derek!" I shrieked and ran to him. "I can't believe you came!"

  He spun as I reached him, and I threw myself into his arms and kissed him excitedly. He was stiff at first—embarrassed with my sudden PDA, as usual—but I could feel him relaxing under me. I couldn't help it; I was so excited that'd he'd actually come, I couldn’t hold it in.

  Apparently it only took a few seconds of my kiss to convince him that an indecent, public kiss was a good idea because his fingers quickly snaked into my hair, and his kiss matched my enthusiasm. He gripped my shirt on both sides, pulling me into him, and moaned deeply into my mouth, which lit a million different fires inside of me. He hadn’t kissed me like that in a while. It wasn't really like any of the times he'd kissed me before; it was needy as hell, like he’d finally missed me as much as I’d missed him. It had become intense, and I faded into him completely, forgetting the club and everything around us.

  "So, I see Derek made it?" Emily shouted over the music.

  I was so lost in him I almost didn't hear her. Realizing he’d obviously missed me as much as I'd missed him and wasn't going to end our kiss, I squeezed him and gave him one more second of passion, and then I relaxed out of his arms reluctantly.

  "Nice of you to show your face, Easton. Finally." She sounded snide, but I knew she was only ribbing Derek.

  I laughed and softly kissed his lips again.

  He opened his eyes. "What was that for?" he asked, breathless.

  My eyes locked with his immediately, and a wry grin spread across his lips. My mouth fell open, and he blinked his big, brown eyes at me…Beck's big, brown eyes.

  "Are you guys gonna speak to Jared, or not?" Emily asked, pulling at my arm.

  I stared at Beck, dying to slug him in the shoulder or yell at him. Who the hell did he think he was kissing me like that? I'd thought he was Derek, but he knew better. He could've stopped what had just happened.

  I could feel the fluttering in my stomach and tingling heat in my cheeks. Why did he always have to find a way to embarrass me?

  "Lissa?" She sounded irritated.

  I blinked blankly at Beck. I couldn’t look away…I was just that shocked.

  He winked at me and slid his arm around my waist. "Hey, man," he said turning us toward Emily and her date, "Jared, is it?" He extended his hand to him and crushed me into his side.

  Jared shook his hand, and Emily bounced like a giddy teenager, hugging close to her date's tire-sized bicep.

  Jared held his hand out to me, offering an introduction.

  "Lis?" Beck nudged me, noticing I was just staring at Jared’s hand.

  I played along. "H-hi." I cleared my throat. "I'm Lissa."

  Emily was staring at me as if she'd just been told I had the plague. I didn't think I could tell her that I was so spaced out because I'd just had my tongue passionately crammed half way down my fiancé's brother's throat.

  "Uh, excuse us," I said and turned into Beck, shoving him back toward the bar. He shook his head comically at Emily and her date in a she’s-crazy manner.

  He backed up until he hit the wall. He looked amused, which only made me madder. I eyed his suit and realized that his undershirt was unbuttoned several buttons, he had no tie on, and his jacket was open and loose. Why couldn’t he have been facing me a minute ago? I would’ve known without a doubt that it wasn’t Derek. Derek never wore a suit casually.

  "What the hell was that?" I grilled him and punched at his shoulder.

  He threw his hands up in surrender, but his grin was smug.

  "Beck!"

  "A damn good kiss you've been fending off for weeks?” he shrugged. “I'm just guessing."

  "You know I thought you were Derek! Why didn't you push me away? Why didn't you do something?"

  "I’m sorry. I don't make a habit of turning away beautiful women who jump my bones."

  "I didn't…whatever, Beck! You knew I thought you were Derek.”

  I spun away for him, but he grabbed my wrist and called after me. "Hey! We’ve been having a really good time. I wasn't trying to fuck it up. Lissa, don't be pissed."

  I scoffed.

  "I know I rib you all the time, but I just like to fuck with Derek's girlfriends about the stupid twin shit.”

  “Well, I’m his fiancé!” I retorted.

  “I know.” He dropped my wrist. “I really wouldn't ever try to get you to do something you didn't want to do."

  "Except kiss you!"

  "That was my bad,” he admitted with a shrug, “but in my defense, I said I wouldn't try to get you to do something you didn't want to do. You wanted that…"

  "No—"

  "I'm just kidding, Lissa! Come on." He prodded me with his elbow. "Let me buy you a drink."

  “I don’t think so.”

  “One drink.”

  “Ugh,” I growled, and sat down on a stool. "I'll have a scotch and a Mojito."

  “Two it is!” he said slapping the bar countertop.

  “Beck’s friends came up as the bartender was handing him our drinks. He introduced me, and we sat and sipped our drinks as Em danced with her new playmate.

  “So, where’s Mik?” I asked him.

  He turned his drink back. “He said he might co
me, but this really isn’t his scene,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s been a different guy since we got back to LA.”

  “Any particular reason?”

  He snickered. “Old age. He’s getting tired, old, and grumpy.”

  I laughed out loud and Emily came and sat beside me. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving, sweat beaded on her forehead.

  “Whew!” she breathed and shouted her drink order at the bartender.

  “So, why isn’t your brother here?”

  Beck turned to Emily. “What’s that?” he spoke loudly over the band’s guitar solo.

  “Your brother? Beck? Where is he? Lis said he was coming!”

  He shrugged his Beck shrug. “I have no idea. Lissa?” he looked to me.

  “Oh, he’s uh…” I stammered, wondering why he’d asked me, but I knew he’d done it on purpose. “He’s a…slut of sorts, so he’s probably with some randoms somewhere, selling himself, or rather just giving it away.”

  Beck narrowed his eyes at me and inhaled deeply, his chest pushing against his tight-fitting, white button up. He rolled his eyes at me, shaking his head subtly.

  “I’m sure it’s being begged out of him, not just given away.” He shot me a narrow-eyed glance. “I’m just saying,” he added and buried his eyes into his drink when Emily gave him a strange look.

  “Well, either way, I was excited to meet him. It’s too bad,” she pouted. “I was so anxious to see where he ranked on the Sexy Bastard Scale.”

  “Well—” Beck started to say something—boastful and arrogant, I’m sure—but I stood and threw my hand in his face, silencing him. “Let’s have another round, Derek!”

  The rest of the night was fun. We all drank and danced and met a few new people. Emily had made a point to not drink more than a few drinks, so she could still study the next day, and Beck went through women like I went through my closet before a party. If their bodies were stacked behind him, it’d look like a battlefield.

  It was fun, but it ended quickly, and we all took a cab home to our own places.

  

  I took the elevator down to Derek’s apartment first thing the next morning. I didn’t even change; I just went in my pajamas, without even running a brush through my stubborn hair.