3. Chapter Three - Summer
Summer
"Come on, honey, wake up," my dad whispers and nudges my shoulder until my eyes flutter open and I see him grinning at me full of pity. "I hate to wake you, but you're past the size where I can just carry you inside and tuck you into bed."
I hide a big yawn behind my scarf as I stretch my arms over my head. "Wouldn't want you to break your back," I tease him and unbuckle myself, pulling the door close to keep the cold out.
We landed in Amsterdam around noon in their local time, and I'm wiped.
Luca got us first-class tickets for the flight, and while there's really no room to complain about our seats or comfort, I just couldn't fall asleep. There was just something about the constant loud hum of the air conditioning, the bucking from turbulence that jolted me around, and constantly seeing stewardesses walk the aisles from the corner of my eye that kept me awake.
So instead I tried to watch movies, thinking that maybe the lull of watching Cinderella for the hundredth time might help falling asleep. Spoiler alert, it did not.
Cars are fine for some reason, though. As soon as my butt hit the seat of this taxi, I was blasted by heat that felt warmer than a sauna and once it started to drive, I was out like a baby being rocked to sleep.
Full-on cheek-plastered-to-the-window-and-drool-running-down-my-skin sleep.
Though after being awake for twenty hours, being woken up after what? Half an hour? However long it was, it feels like a special form of torture.
"Come on, you can sleep some more in the hotel," Mom adds from the seat beside me with a gentle smile that only makes me grumble. She’s way too cheerful for my sleep-deprived state to handle. Then she suddenly pinches me.
“Ow. What did I do?”
“You were closing your eyes again,” she scolds me while I rub the hurting skin. The skill of that woman, pulling a deadly pinch even through the fabric of my winter coat. "Luca said he's waiting for us in the lobby, so come on."
"Alright, alright."
I fight with another yawn and open the car door, grimacing when a wave of coldness sweeps over me and shooting my mom a glare. "On second thought, maybe I'll just stay in here."
"Come on." Dad is already opening the trunk together with the taxi driver, the two of them pulling out our suitcases one by one and letting the coldness seep into the car. "Only a few minutes and you can sleep in a wonderful, comfortable warm bed. You’re almost there, honey."
I sigh and finally get out of the car, pouting as I close the car door behind me and looking at my spot for one last time longingly. "If I must."
"So, exhaustion reverts you back to puberty?"
I startle when I hear my brother's voice from behind me, but when I calm down again, I lift my hand, raise my middle finger without even looking at him, and meet my mothers disapproving glare with a grin. We’re siblings. He’s definitely seen that gesture more than once and so have I.
"I'm tired. You wanted me here. So shut up and let me whine," I mumble but nonetheless hug him back when he pulls me to him.
"Well, good thing I love you and booked early check-in." He pinches my arm, and I elbow him in the gut. Our sibling ritual whenever we see each other, dating back to when I was nine years old.
"Come on now, make yourself useful and get her suitcase." Mom chuckles and nods toward where Dad is fighting with it.
"What did you pack?" Luca asks me, confused, looking it up and down pointedly. "Hell, I bet I could fit in there."
"This, my brother dearest, is my personal emotional ballast. Well, and a spare winter jacket, a few thick winter boots, and all the clothes I'm going to need to layer up in this coldness," I list and walk past him with my head held high. "But I mean, if you're too weak to pull it, I am perfectly able to do that myself, so step aside, weakling."
Spite is fuelling me, a sudden surge of strength flowing through me as I pick up the suitcase demonstratively. Then, just as predicted, Luca’s hands shoot out to pull me back by my jacket, making me let go of it again as he trudges past me with a pout.
"Stop it, Summer, I got it."
The corners of my mouth curl into a smile. God, he’s so predictable. When I catch my dad eavesdropping on our exchange and shooting me an amused look, I quickly school my face and look at him with wide eyes, making him chuckle in response and shake his head at the two of us.
Finally, we enter the hotel, immediately enveloped by warmth, immediately feeling my cheeks heat up at the sudden change in temperature.
“This is—” I take a deep breath, slowly turning around trying to take everything in. The lobby is pompous—but in a good way. I didn’t even realize that’s possible. There’s furniture that looks like the interior designers took it straight out of a room in Versailles, paired with modern paintings that make you question whether it’s actually supposed to be art or an experiment, but, surprisingly, it works amazingly together. “Wow.”
Then my eyes are caught on a couch. Even with the sophisticated flair, it looks comfortable as hell.
“I’m calling it. If my room is half as comfortable as these couches look, you might not see much of me while we’re here.”
"That could become pretty boring after a few days," Luca points out, and I purse my lips in a pout.
“Don’t be so logical.”
"Also, you wanted to take your mind off things," he adds a lot more quietly. "I don’t think that’s going to work if you spend your whole day doing nothing."
I roll my eyes. I hate it when he’s right. Even more when he knows he is, just like now.
“Nobody likes a gloater,” I whisper back at him, but it only makes him grin.
"Now, how about you plant your ass on that couch over there? We'll leave the bags with you for a moment while we check you in."
Before I can open my mouth for an answer, the three of them are ushering me towards the couch I’d been eyeing, and once I'm seated there, all bets are off.
"I'm never getting up again," I let them know, letting my head fall back to look at the marble ceiling. "I live here now. Bring me a blanket and I'm good."
"Maybe we can change your mind once you actually see the rooms." I lift my head, directing an unimpressed look at my brother.
Mom watches our exchange, amusement tugging at the corner of her lips, while Dad is wandering off, his curious gaze firmly locked on one of the artworks on the lobby walls. It’s pretty abstract, all I can see from here are paint splashes distributed over a canvas with beige background, but knowing him, he’s already determined what it’s supposed to show and what feelings the artist intended to convey with it.
I bet it’s anger. That’s his usual go-to when it comes to artistic interpretations.
With a sigh, I lean my head back again as the three of them make their way over to the reception, chatting happily, the sound quickly blending into the monotone hum of the busy hotel lobby. Combined with this couch that’s peak comfort, I feel my consciousness pulled closer to sleep, my eyelids drooping and a yawn hidden behind my scarf.
Suddenly, a voice that I can only compare to a deep rumble of thunder starts speaking and the couch dips right next to me.
“May I sit here or would you like me to invite you to dinner first?”
My eyes fly open, and I startle. That… voice. I’ve never heard a deep voice like this before. It feels like he’s sending soundwaves through my body, only with his voice, so deep my brain can barely comprehend he’s actually speaking words and not part of a music track. "What the fuck?"
"Oh wow. Not the reaction I usually get," the same deep voice answers, and I actually physically pull away. It’s sending goosebumps all over my damned body and before I know it, I blurt out the stupidest thing that rushes through my brain.
"You sound like Avi Kaplan and a didgeridoo had a child," I ask before I finally turn my head to look at him, my breath catching in my throat when I meet his curious stare.
Holy fucking shit.
Of course, I know the Walker brothers. Well, I guess "know" is a bit of a stretch, but I watched Luca’s charity match back then, and I might have done a bit of additional Googling after he mentioned their names. So, it’s fair to say I knew what they looked like. Handsome as hell, dark hair, chiseled jaws, piercing eyes and sex appeal all but written on their foreheads. Thanks to Luca taking me along to a red carpet or two, not really something that fazes me.
But holy shit, I did not imagine any of them to sound like this. Consider me fazed.
"I don't think anyone's ever given that comparison," he says, amusement playing at his lips as he taps a finger against them, probably thinking of all the times he’s been called booktok’s dream guy. "I'll take it, though."
I can’t help but stare at him. Does he have a voice distorter hidden somewhere?
"Did that make you speechless?" he asks, and I blink, trying to shake off the strange enchantment his voice cast on me.
"No.” I shake my head, a smile playing at my lips. He’s got no idea that I’m part of this little get together here, does he? “I'm just kind of trying to figure out why you're talking to me."
"Oof." He grabs his heart dramatically and sighs, pretending he's the actor of his family—which I know for a fact he's not, but it’s interesting to see how that talent evaded him. "What a harsh rejection."
"Rejection of what?" I ask, confused. Then it hits me. I was so focused on his voice I almost forgot what he even said. “Oh.”
But before I can try to save the conversation, my family is back.
"Ah, I see you've met my sister," Luca says, his eyes jumping from the Walker brother to me as he steps in front of us, waving the key card to my room in front of my face until I quickly snatch it from his fingers.
I feel him freeze up next to me, and I can't help but bite my lip to keep from bursting into laughter. Oh, this is golden.
"Tanner, that's my sister, Summer. Summer, that's Tanner—one of the Walkers."
"I figured," I chuckle and take Luca's outstretched hand to let him pull me to a stand, shooting the deep-voiced stranger a look over my shoulder. "Good to meet you, Tanner.”
“So, what were the two of you talking about?" Luca asks curiously as he pulls my suitcase to the elevator for me.
"Well, you know," I shrug, biting my lip to hide a grin, "general introductions."
"General introductions had you startled like that?" Luca looks me up and down, eyebrow raised up to his hairline.
I try to hold his stare, biting the inside of my cheeks to keep a grin from splitting my face in two, but Luca knows me too well. So two levels higher, I break.
"I was caught off guard by his voice," I admit shyly, dropping my gaze. God, even the floor of this elevator is fancy.
"Oh.” He chuckles and heaves my suitcase out of the elevator once it stops. “Yeah, it’s crazy, right?”
“I’ve never heard a voice like that in real life before,” I admit, following suit. “By the way, where are Mom and Dad?” I only now realized they didn’t come up with us.
"Out and about." He vaguely waves his hand around. "They said they'd need to move around a bit after sitting in the plane seats for the past… I don't know how many hours."
“How did you get here anyway?" I look at him, narrowing my eyes. I mean, I figured we wouldn't be flying together, but he never mentioned it either. “Did you come early for a pre-honeymoon?”
"Well, about that…" He shoots me a sheepish grin. "We kind of teamed up and took Millie’s and Kayla’s jet."
"What?" I stop in my tracks and look at him with wide eyes. "You took a fucking private jet? And you didn’t take us along?” I box his arm playfully. “God, how rude."
"Sorry, sorry!" He catches my fist when I try to box him again and pulls me to a stop. "There wasn’t enough space for three more people. I'm sorry! But I got your first-class tickets, so don't be mad."
"I'm not mad about the first-class tickets. I'm just really fucking jealous you got to fly on a private jet." I roll my eyes and come to a stop.
"No, if you need me, I will be so fast asleep." I grin as I press my card to the door, hearing it beep, then click open as the little red light turns green. God, I can’t wait to catch some sleep.
“Oh damn, you didn’t skimp on the room at least.”
“Ha. Ha,” he says dryly. “Of course I haven’t.”
And the room is incredible. It’s spacious, in beige tones, but not in that sterile way, no, this feels warm. Home-y. There’s even a little living room corner with a couch and coffee table. It’s almost a little apartment, and I get to hang out here, all by myself.
This might just be heaven.
"Make sure to lock your door," Luca reminds me after he's deposited my suitcase right next to the coffee table.
"Yes, Dad," I say playfully and roll my eyes at him. “Now get out of here, I need a nap.”
When I close the door behind him, he actually stays in front of it until the clicking sound tells him that I've locked it. There’s a lot of things I miss about him living at home or close by. Like movie nights, gaming marathons, but this overprotectiveness? Definitely not.
Finally, I tear my crusty-feeling clothes from this travel day off, throw them into a corner, turn off the light, and climb under the covers that feel like a cloud on my skin, smiling when my head hits the equally fluffy pillow.
God, this is such a rich-people hotel. Pretty sure I’ll have the best nap I ever had here.
And then, I'm out like a light.