Page 26 of If the Summer Lasted Forever
I hold my hands out—a silent “so?”
“You started at the beginning, watched until you saw the footage with Evie, and then you decided I’m a jerk and quit?”
Actually, I fell asleep. I guess I’m a glutton for punishment because before I drifted off, I kept watching, playing video after video until unconsciousness found me.
“We broke up in February.” He stares at me, his face unyielding. “It’s not something we made a big deal of in the videos, but Hunter mentioned it.”
Crossing my arms, mirroring his guarded pose, I study him. His light manner is gone, replaced with something we share. Hurt.
They didn’t just break up. Evie left him—I have no doubt.
“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling sort of awful—but still a little betrayed, even if it’s not justified.
Landon doesn’t respond, doesn’t even flinch.
“So, what was this?” I motion a hand between us. “From the look on your face, I can tell you’re not over her.”
Finally, he moves. He looks down and lets out a frustrated breath. “This was metrying.”
Trying to move on, trying to act normal. I get it. I really do.
The sleepless night catches up with me, and I walk out of the bathroom and sink onto the edge of the bed. “Last summer, a guy started hanging around the campground,” I begin, needing to share my own story. “He was cute; he was interesting. He comes to Gray Jay with his family every summer, and I really liked him. We’d been together for two months when I caught him making out with another local girl at a town picnic.”
Landon watches me, staying silent.
“I was so hurt,” I admit, still feeling a twinge of pain now. “Two weeks later, Thomas’sactualgirlfriend showed up to surprise him for his birthday. It was a surprise all right—she caught him with Gia.” I scowl at the comforter. “At least it wasn’t me.”
“Did you know he had a girlfriend when you were together?”
“No.”
Landon’s quiet for several long seconds as he processes the information, and then he says, “You are the queen of depressing stories.”
I jerk my head his way, meeting his eyes. There’s humor there—not much, but a little.
“My mom has been pushing me to ‘get back out there,’” Landon says almost wearily.
Slowly, I nod. “Mine too.”
“She likes you.”
“My mom likes you as well.”
He gives me a sideways look. “They’ve been plotting.”
So, he’s noticed. The two have been spending all kinds of time together, forming a fast friendship over coffee and sewing projects, apparently plotting ways to “fix” their broken children.
Landon’s face softens, and he sits next to me. “How long do you think it will take to get them to leave us alone?”
“About three months, give or take a few weeks.”
A morbid smile stretches across his face. “When we leave.”
“When you leave,” I agree.
He turns his head and studies me. “What if we give them what they want?”
Apparently not all the butterflies are dead because one gives a half-hearted wing wiggle in my stomach. “What?”
