That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 1

Five years ago

Hailey

I thought it was thebest day of my existence. But like most moments in my bad-luck love life, it was actually just the best day before I got my heart broken.

I had saved a kid’s life a few weeks before, and on this best-but-actually-in-hindsight-WORST day, I stood on an outdoor stage, sparkling summer sunshine baking my skin. Kettle corn and barbecue tinted the breeze, and under that, freshly cut grass mixed with a whiff of chlorine from the pool. We were in the lull between bands playing for the toniest event in town, Rolling Green Country Club’s Labor Day Pops Concert.

This was my girlfriend Ella’s world. Her parents owned the club. I was working waitstaff. Would, in fact, go back to busing tables once I left the stage. In the crowd, little girls in gingham dresses and boys in pressed khaki shorts chased each other around, clutching plastic wands that let loose streams of bubbles in their wakes. Over by the bar, ice sculptures melted in the sweltering summer heat.

I was there to receive a scholarship from the owner of Rolling Green, who was both my boss and Ella’s dad. I was going to community college with Jack in the fall, and the two thousand bucks would make paying for school that much easier.

Ella and I had been on the outs because she was going back to rich-kid college for her sophomore year, leaving Jack and me behind. Plus, she was embarrassed to admit she was in love with us, which stung.

She had her reasons, the major ones being her homophobe asshole hoity-toity parents, who would probably sooner have me arrested than cut me a scholarship check if they knew what Jack and I did to their daughter when the lights went off in her bedroom.

But they didn’t know. Because Ella would shit twice and die before she’d tell them. Or so I thought on that perfect day. But at least she was there, right next to me, handing me an award and praising me in front of everyone. Together, we stood on stage, and when the applause died down, she said, ”Hailey, on behalf of everyone here, thank you for your quick thinking and heroic actions. People like you make this town the great place it is to live today.”

She kept her arm around my shoulder, the fullness of her breast pressed against me, the scent of her perfume making me light-headed. All I could think was that everyone was seeing us together like this. “Here to present you with a scholarship for $2,000 is Kitt Rivers.”

The crowd applauded wildly. The girl I’d saved from choking to death came up on stage, tears streaming across her face, holding a giant novelty check. Kitt put the check in front of the three of us and moved in tight, which was when I realized they were taking photos.

“Thank you,” Kitt shouted.

Ella’s dad, Mr. Stewart, came out from the wings to applaud us and, no doubt, to be in the wider-angle shots for the newspaper, just in case anyone wasn’t clear on where the money was coming from.

Slowly, the applause died down, and Ella gestured to the mic. I stepped up to it.

“Uh,” I said, real cool.

When I looked up, I saw him. He wasn’t obvious or anything. It was just luck, I guess. But Jack was there, smiling broadly at the edge of the lawn. With purpose, he blew me a kiss. A gush of emotion overwhelmed me. Having Jack witness this, having Ella be here with her arm around me in front of everyone? Sob city. Like I said: Perfect. Day.

I reminded myself I was wearing cheap mascara and willed myself not to cry.

“Thank you,” I said into the microphone, a little too loudly and way too hoarsely.

I guessed the crowd could tell I was emotional. They cheered even louder. I stood a moment, just soaking it all in, then stepped back to take the check.

As I did, Ella stepped up to the microphone again. “So you all know Hailey from working here or, of course, from being all over the news for acting heroic as heck. But you may not know that Hailey and I went to high school together, and over the summer I’ve gotten to know her better because...well, because she’s dating my ex.”

Into the stunned silence, Ella laughed brightly, setting the crowd at ease with her nonchalance. She slipped her arm to interlock with mine in a casual, friendly way, and even the tipsiest attendees seemed to understand Ella wasn’t trying to start a fight. But it was clear, at least from my former educators in the front row, that no one was sure where Ella was going with this.

Mr. Stewart stepped forward, sweaty and gesturing at the novelty check. I got the idea Ella was supposed to be talking about Rolling Green’s generosity and how I could now go to... Holy crap. I had $2,000 for textbooks. For rent. I grinned all dopey-like, stunned.

“And...” Ella wasn’t done. She squeezed my arm before addressing the crowd again. “I just love Hailey. Not only is she a hero but she has taught me so much about what it means to be brave and to be true to yourself, and...and our town is just so lucky to have her. You couldn’t ask for a better person to be in our midst.”

The crowd applauded even more forcefully, and I cannot emphasize this enough, probably because they were drunk and everyone loves when someone gets heartfelt accolades. Or, admittedly, because the two of us looked great together—Ella’s blond hair and mini supermodel frame against my bitter chocolate hair and more jiggle-prone figure. We were onstage at the fanciest party in town, and we were the center of attention.

I turned to Ella. “Thank y—”

But I never got the words out, because in front of everyone, Ella kissed me, right on the lips.

“I love you, Hails,” she said loudly enough for the mic to pick up.

There was an initial reaction of regular applause until it hit what Ella had done. The clapping petered off into this black hole of silence followed by a series of strange, drunken gasps. The mouth-to-mouth kiss had definitely shocked. Ella turned to the crowd and grinned again, hugging me. I could feel her trembling.

“I love you,” she said again, squeezing me tight.

The strange shock that ran through the crowd eased up, and for the most part, people started applauding again.

“I love you too!” I said into the mic. “And I love Jack.”

Ella laughed, nodding wildly. “Me too!”

Some people made faces like someone close by had farted, and I could only imagine what kind of image the photographer caught with Ella’s dad in the background.

But as we stood there, the applause returned to normal levels and someone yelled real loud from the back, “That’s hot!”

At that, people laughed and applauded more. Maybe they thought it was a joke or a skit they didn’t understand, but I didn’t care. I was so proud of Ella and like...this was embarrassing to admit, but kind of healed, you know? I’d spent my life being the girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Plenty of guys wanted to get me in the back seats of their cars but didn’t want to bring me home. A girl like Ella admitting I was hers in a place like this meant a lot.

When I turned, Ella’s dad was applauding too. He was probably just going with it because it was the smart thing to do in front of a crowd, but his approval meant even his Rolling Green cronies were clapping now too. This close up, though, I could see his smile was a grimace, his teeth bared, his eyes bright with rage.

“Don’t go,” I said to Ella, quiet and away from the mic. “Stay in town this fall with me and Jack.”

“Yeah.” She laughed, glancing at her dad. “After this, I think I’ll have to.”

I knew that meant she thought her dad was gonna yank her funding to go back to her private college, and I knew that’d be a struggle for her. But I had no dad, and aside from this giant novelty check, nobody was paying for my education, so I guess in my mind, it didn’t seem like that big of a hardship—if I was making it work, so could Ella. Maybe I should’ve thought more about how bad it had hurt when my dad left and how, even though it was like...twelve years later, it still made me feel insecure and scared. But at that moment, all I felt was secretly pleased Ella was going to stay here in town. Victorious, even, like it was all going to work for us. We could stay together. Nothing would change.

At the back of the crowd, Jack whooped. Theo and Lucas stood together, applauding hard. The photographer circled the grass below the stage, documenting it all. Behind us, the next band took the stage to enthusiastic applause.

I couldn’t hear any of it over the wild, happy beat of my heart, the warmth of Ella’s skin where her bare arm was exposed by her cute little tank top, her blond hair tickling my shoulder.

Like I said, best day ever.

And right after that? The worst.

* * *

Ella

Dad introduced theband with a hearty, “And now for Switch Escape!”

Then Kitt, Hailey, and I were all nudged down the stage steps onto the lawn. Jack rushed through the crowd, his face colored with joy as he threw his arms around both of us.

Dad jabbed his index finger into my shoulder, hard, demanding my attention. I gave him a wobbly smile, keeping up appearances for the curious onlookers in the front rows. His eyes darted to the crowd and then back to us, face flushed, lips pulled against his teeth in a snarl. He flung a finger toward the parking lot. “Get out.”

Hailey opened her mouth to clap back, but I put my hand out to stop her. He was my father, not hers. And anyway, causing a scene would only add gasoline. I had embarrassed him at his place of business, in front of his friends, and I had gone against his value system. But I also knew he loved me. Just as Hailey’s mom had accepted our threesome, Dad would come around...eventually. It had to be that way. I was his Princess, his only daughter, and more than that, I had proven myself to be a good person. I was on the honor roll at school. I helped run Rolling Green. I had done everything he had ever asked of me...except be straight.

His face had gone purple. The hand he’d used to point our way out now clutched his chest. “Dad?”

Now I did glance to Hailey, to see if she saw what I did. Hailey had been a lifeguard at the country club’s pool and so had first aid training.

“I want you gone,” Dad shouted over the music playing in the background.

“You don’t get to—” Hailey started, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the exit with me. Dad just needed some time to cool off. He followed, herding us like a guard dog, hackles raised. My body must’ve realized how bad it was before I did because even as I was telling myself this was going to be OK, tears blinded me. Once we got off the grassy lawn and onto the parking lot asphalt, the temperature shot up, baking us.

“You are a disgrace. All three of you. I never want—” He took a deep breath. I shook my head in denial. Sure he was mad, but... “To see you—” Another deep breath.

“Don’t,” I whispered. He could still take it back. He didn’t have to go too far.

Our eyes met. His narrowed, as though it enraged him for me to beg. All my life he said he loved me unconditionally, but now there was nothing on his face but disgust. He opened his mouth...and began coughing wildly, his hand still clutching at his chest, his skin an alarming shade.

“Are you OK?” Jack asked.

Even in the midst of being thrown out of Rolling Green, Jack was exactly the kind of guy who’d be self-possessed enough to voice concern about Dad’s obvious state of...something. Heart attack? Oh my God. Was Dad having a—

“Ever again.” He bent suddenly at the waist and put a hand on his thigh.

“Help! We need help!” I shouted. “Dad, sit down. Hailey, go get—”

Dad yanked away from my attempt to help him. “Unnatural,” he managed.

He would rather die than let me help him.My father, who had loved me my whole life, who called me Princess. It knocked the wind out of me, and I fell back, trying to regain my balance.

In the distance, Mom hurried across the field, a master of running in a skirt and heels across the grass. The band was in full swing now. The air smelled like a carnival, and the sky above us was a peerless blue, broken only by an errant green helium balloon that had escaped one of the balloon arches. In the background, I heard Hailey talking to 911 on her cell.

“Mom?” I asked as Dad lost his alarming purple skin tone for a shade so pale I thought maybe he was going to die. “Mommy?”

She turned on me. Later, more than one therapist I’d met at Pray Away the Gay camp would suggest Mom was full of her own panic at seeing her husband and life partner in such a state and had simply channeled all those feelings into a burst of inappropriate behavior.

She turned and slapped me so hard I rocked back on my feet, stumbling. Her ring cut my cheekbone just under my eye. “You faithless”—she sucked air like she wouldn’t say it, but it got out anyway—“whore.”

“Hey!” Jack got between her and me, putting his hands on her shoulders to separate us. But when she called me that name, he shoved her back, hard. “That’s enough.”

“Security!” Mom screamed.

The security guards must’ve already been alerted when Hailey called 911, looped in by the operator, or maybe someone in the crowd had notified them. Three older fellows, probably retired cops, jogged over.

“Help him!” Mom demanded, pointing at Dad, who had gone the color of cream cheese and had sat down on the pavement, although he was usually careful about keeping his expensive pants pristine. “And remove those three from the property.”

“Mom, no!” This was no time for bullshit. Dad might be dying. They needed me here.

“You did this!” she yelled back.

A few guests from the Pops concert had moved away from the stage to watch us. Part of me was mortified, though you’d think I had more important things to focus on. But I was my parents’ child, trained to be appropriate at all times. The Stewarts of Rolling Green had to rise to a higher standard, to remember we represented the class and quality of the club. Our actions reflected on the business. And my actions had caused this scandal.

Two guards helped gather my dad, moving him into the shade. The other guard stretched out his arms like a human version of police Do Not Cross tape in front of me. “You heard Ms. Stewart. Leave.”

“Is he OK? Is he going to be OK?” I yelled. Hailey wrapped around me, her tears falling on my bare arm.

“You’re only causing more problems by making a scene,” the security guard said. “You need to leave. Now.”

“Do you even know who I am?!” I screamed, full of fury and indignation, knowing I was pulling the biggest asshole card in my deck but unable to stop myself. “I’m Ella Stewart. That’s my dad.”

The security guard’s face hardened. For the first time, my name at Rolling Green didn’t mean a thing. In the distance, an ambulance siren wailed, coming up the drive to the Rolling Green Country Club employee parking lot.

* * *

That night, Haileylet me crash at her house. Jack came over. I cried on the sofa until I was dehydrated, my face raw and chapped, but all my lotions were still at my house along with my birth control pills and all my worldly possessions. I didn’t even have pajamas. Hailey’s mom went out and got me Pedialyte to drink, and Hailey gave me a comfy old T-shirt and a pair of boxers. In between sobs, I frantically checked in on social media. Mom wouldn’t answer my texts, but I hoped she’d privately post it somewhere for the family, to let Gramma and her sisters know Dad’s condition. Around dawn, I finally fell asleep on the couch, wondering how I could’ve so spontaneously said those words, in that setting, and turned my whole life upside down. I could’ve kept my mouth shut and none of this would’ve happened.

One day turned into three. I borrowed more clothes, even underwear. Hailey’s mom never said a word about feeding and housing me, but I knew it cost money they barely had. I texted my mom like a stalker, demanding contact, and got no response. I texted my brother. He didn’t reply either, but I got that; he was at the Pops that day. Gabe was either disgusted with me...or he’d seen what happened to Stewart kids who disobeyed their parents and he didn’t want to risk siding with me and getting kicked out himself. I totally got that; he was still in high school.

Tuesday came and went. Wednesday, I dragged myself to the store to buy some groceries as a thank you to Hailey’s mom for housing me. I was all the way through checkout when I swiped my credit card...and then my secondary card. They were both declined. The cashier gave me a look somewhere between pity and annoyance. Hailey was with me, and she grabbed the pink toothbrush from the pile of things I couldn’t buy and paid with the five bucks she had in her pocket. I cried in the parking lot, a total sad-sack mess.

Thursday, my inbox flooded with welcome notes from the professors for my upcoming classes. Thursday night, Hailey stole all the covers, and I accidentally rolled out of her twin bed, forgetting it wasn’t my full-sized at home, and woke up gasping and disoriented.

Friday, I got a text from Mom.

Mom: Milo’s Coffee House, 2:00. If you want a relationship with me, be there.

I jumped like I’d been messaged with a cattle prod.

Me: Dad? Is he OK?

Mom: The doctors say it was a panic attack.

I sighed with relief. I had known my whole life Dad believed in ”traditional marriage” and expected that from his family. He had a gay brother nobody in our family had ever met because Dad felt so strongly about it. But still, Mom’s reaching out gave me hope.

I showed up at the coffee shop early. Mom arrived late.

“You look terrible,” she said.

True. I was living in Hailey’s cramped bedroom, wearing her clothes. I had no money, and I’d missed my appointment at the salon because I couldn’t pay to get my roots done with no credit cards. All my makeup and even my hairbrush were still at home. Also, I was like a week late for a college I wasn’t sure if I was attending anymore and definitely stressing about the assignments that kept coming in using textbooks I didn’t have yet. And finally, I probably looked terrible because I was coming to realize my parents didn’t love me. Or at least they didn’t love all of me. To be honest, rejection on that level was breaking my heart a little more every day. What did it mean for the rest of my life if this was how people reacted to the real me?

We got lattes; she paid. We eyeballed each other in silence.

“Don’t ruin your life over a fling.” My mother spoke first.

“It’s not a fling.”

I knew how it sounded. Even so, I was there, meeting with her. In the past few days, I’d learned that while community college was free, that covered tuition, not books. Or food. Or rent. And the only work history I had was at Rolling Green. Without a recommendation, I was going into the workforce pretty flat-footed.

“Come on, Ella. You’re nineteen years old. All you have is flings. But honey, not this one.” At the casual term of affection, my nose stung with tears. “You don’t want to start out your life like this, burning every bridge and making yourself an outcast. You are not...” her eyes darted around the room for witnesses, “a lesbian.”

“I am...” I wanted to hold my ground, but lesbian wasn’t exactly right; there was Jack too. Maybe there wasn’t a word for what I was. Maybe I was wrong. If I wasn’t, why was this so hard? Suddenly, I ached to be her EllsBells, to have her smile at me for real. This pit of sadness opened up inside me, threatening to pull me down into it.

Mom sipped her drink, avoiding eye contact. “The college sent the bill for your room and board.”

Guilt rushed up. That was probably a $40,000 invoice she’d gotten for me, the daughter she now hated. I opened my mouth, no idea how I was going to pay her back for the mistake I’d made. I couldn’t even afford groceries.

Mom was making strategic points: I was a freak. I was broke. And like all fairy tales, it’s the third thing that gets your heroine. And Mom’s third thing was a doozy.

“Go back to school. I’ll send them a check. No—” She put up a hand as I objected. “Don’t argue, just listen. You know I handle the bills. By the time your father figures it out, he’ll see it’s the right thing to do. You are, after all, a Stewart. Where you go in the world reflects on us. Keep your head down, earn your grades. And don’t come home until you’ve got your head on straight.” Emphasis on straight, as though she thought she were hip or something.

She took a sip of her latte and dropped the or else on me. I knew it was coming because there was always an or else. “But I won’t have you living across town, dragging our name through the mud, humiliating your father. I’m willing to pay for the next three years of your college education. In exchange for something I know you need, I want you to leave town, Ella. Go off and be the brilliant college graduate your father can brag to his friends about. Post on social media how happy, healthy, and normal you are. Don’t come back here for any reason. Not Christmas, not summer break. And if I hear anything—if anyone here catches wind of you living a...a degenerate lifestyle from all the way over here? It will cease to be worth it to me to fund your education or to acknowledge you as my daughter.”

I gasped, fingers going cold despite the warmth of the cup. Out of nowhere, it occurred to me that if my parents kicked me off their insurance, how on earth would I pay medical expenses if I got hurt? I mean, even my birth control would cost extra every month. Was I really going to live in Hailey’s mom’s house, unable to help pay rent, barely able to cover textbook expenses while I attended community college? I wasn’t even enrolled—Jack and Hailey were starting up this week, which probably meant I’d missed the cutoff to sign up for classes. Guess that meant I’d probably need to get myself a minimum-wage job until next semester, start buying my own underwear and paying for cheap hotel rooms so Jack, Hailey, and I could all be together in one bed for a night. And the whole time, to everyone in this town, I would be Ella Stewart, that lesbian polyamorous whatever who got disowned by her parents.

Here was my dirty little secret I think Mom cherry-picked from her arsenal of arguments to get me to do what she wanted: I loved Jack and Hailey, but I loved being the golden girl too. I wanted to take those business classes and eventually take over Rolling Green. I enjoyed looking good and drinking fancy lattes. I didn’t want Hailey and Jack to see me humbled and bad at everything, so they could laugh at my rich girl antics of learning how to live poor. In total honesty, I was afraid if I lost my golden-girl image, maybe Hailey and Jack wouldn’t love me anymore...because who was I if I wasn’t Ella Stewart?

Feeling my resistance, Mom added quietly, “Or I could press charges against Jack for assault.”

“Wh...what?” I knew from her tone she was serious.

“He shoved me at the Pops while I was trying to deliver medical help to your father.”

“He pushed you away after you slapped me!” I pointed to my cheek, still marred by a red scratch from her ring.

“I have three witnesses who saw him attack me. I will press charges.”

Of course, the security guards. An arrest record for Jack, maybe even probation or jail time, might get him kicked out of community college. It would definitely mess up every application he ever filled out for a job.

I fell back against the seat, numb.

“I never want to hear about the three of you together again. Not from you, not from them, not from Milly Evans at church, who loves to tell me every wicked thing she’s ever heard in town. If I hear even a rumor you’re still living that disgusting lifestyle, it will mark the day I have only one child: your brother. And I will do everything in my power to make your life as miserable as you’ve made mine.”

The milk from the caffe latte curdled in my stomach so quickly that I thought it might’ve been poisoned. Wasn’t that what wicked witches did in fairy tales?

But my mother wasn’t a wicked witch, because I wasn’t a princess. A princess would have defended her true loves. She would’ve stayed in our small town, living in poverty with two teenagers who couldn’t even afford to rent an apartment together. She’d sing and get birds and small woodland creatures to help her with the laundry.

When the rubber met the road, I was just regular old Ella, afraid to lose all the trappings of the life I knew. I feared how easily I had spoken those words at the Pops and upended life as I knew it, and now I was too scared to risk trading in my birthright for two people I loved desperately but who could not take care of me financially. Admitting that, even to myself, shamed me to the core. But I nodded my agreement.

“I packed your things.” Mom straightened her spine. “I’ll drive you to school from here.”

“I can’t.” I laughed at the absurdity. My toothbrush was in Hailey’s mother’s cramped second bathroom, jingling in a glass tumbler alongside Hailey’s Spiderman toothbrush and Jack’s plain yellow one. “I have to...” Say goodbye. Tell them how sorry I am. My breath caught in my throat and I nearly panicked before managing to recover. I would not show Mom how bad this hurt. “I have to get my things.”

Mom stared me down, dead-eyed. “This is like rehab,” she said in a flat tone. “You leave with me now, so I know it’s worth spending a few bucks to save your life. Or you make excuses and I know that we’re done.”

That’s when I made the most sensible decision and the biggest mistake of my life: I got in the car and went with her.