7. Chapter Seven - Summer
Summer
“So.” My brother falls into step with me, nudging me with his arm and a wide grin on his face. "I heard Mom and Dad made you do some proper sightseeing.”
I roll my eyes. Mom and Dad took me to the palace this morning, for some ‘quality family time’ as they called it, while Millie and Luca went for a date on an all you can eat boat ride.
I love how close everything is here. You can reach everywhere by walking. No wonder cars are sparse here. I mean, the palace is located right in the middle of the city. No pompous giant garden around it or a high, armed wall, the way you’d picture it. Just bam, you look out the tram, and there is a palace.
It also means we regularly run into each other while exploring the city. Just like Luca found me after leaving the palace with Mom and Dad.
“Proper sightseeing?” I glance up at him. "What's improper sightseeing? Randomly walking through a city is arguably more unique sightseeing than joining a queue with a thousand other tourists to go where everyone does. Or doing an all you can eat pancake boat ride." I give him a pointed glare, but it just makes him chuckle.
"I wasn't talking about that," he says with a smirk. "I was talking about the Red Light District and, from what I heard, a sex museum. How do you even find those places?"
“Oh God,” I mutter under my breath. “Now, for the record, I open my eyes while walking and that’s how I found the museum.” I giggle awkwardly, feeling my cheeks warm. "So, Walker number three spilled I assume?"
He shrugs. "Yeah, Asher and I hung out with them earlier, and he mentioned something along those lines. Really, Summer? A sex museum? Are you not familiar with the… process? Do I need to be worried? Have the ‘bees and birds’ talk with you?"
"No need to worry," I quickly assure him with an arm pat. "I'm not eager to, but if you need me to so you can have your peace of mind, I can give you all the sordid details." I wiggle my eyebrows at him while a shudder goes through his whole body.
"You know what? It's fine," he quickly presses out and shakes his head. "That's what I thought. So, no boyfriend?"
"What kind of interrogation is this?" I glance up at him, confused.
"It's not an interrogation. It's a brother checking in on his sister." He puts his arm around my shoulders, and I sputter when we bump into each other because his legs are too damn long for me to fall in step with, so I quickly shake it off. "Oh, come on, Summer. We barely even talk anymore."
"I guess that's what growing up is." I shrug and link my arm with his instead. "You're balls deep in your acting roles, your relationship—” I grimace “-no pun intended, and wedding preparation, and I'm, well, not balls deep but deep nonetheless in job applications."
"I still miss you." I stop and look up at him when his tone shifts to an earnestness I'm not used to hearing from him.
"What's going on, Luca?"
"Nothing," he assures me. "I just want to make sure you're okay." His voice becomes a bit softer. "The Walker brothers seem to have some… issues with not talking to each other and drifting apart. And I don't want that to happen to us."
"Well, for one, I think our situations are fundamentally different," I point out. "I mean firstly, we’re only two siblings, I think that makes staying in contact easier. And maybe, for them, it’s something that happened thanks to having to grow up too soon."
We exchange a sad smile, likely thinking the same thing, but not speaking it out loud. Thank God we have Mom and Dad.
We turn back to look at them, walking a few meters ahead of us, laughing as Mom is pushing Dad towards the canal, acting like she’s about to push him in, the both of us nodding in a silent understanding.
"You know, the offer still stands," Luca mentions after a while of silence. "If you need me to stretch out my feelers for a job—”
"I'll let you know," I interrupt him and squeeze his arm. "But I need to do this on my own. I can’t be the one they whisper about, saying ‘she only got the job because of her brother.’ I just can’t." God, that would be humiliating. I’ve been scrutinized heavily as an intern, looked down upon just because I have boobs. I can’t add nepotism to the mix and have the gossiping make a new job even more miserable.
Misogyny I can deal with. People pointing out my lacking skills and going on about how I only got the job because of my connections? Not so much.
"Okay." He gives me a quick nod. "I get it. Just remember, the offer stands."
"Thank you.” I take a deep breath as we turn away from the canal. “Now, tell me about your wedding. How’s the planning going?"
"It's going to be so great." He chuckles, and I can see his whole face light up. "But—” He shoots me a wink. “I’m not telling you anything. It's going to be a surprise."
"How mean." I playfully punch his arm, but he catches my fist and holds onto my wrist as he links our arms again.
"Just as mean as never answering my question. So. Boyfriend?"
"Nope." I shake my head vehemently. "I've got enough to deal with at the moment, emotionally. There is no boyfriend and I have no intention of adding one to that list for now." My emotional bandwidth is at capacity with all the frustration and feeling like a failure, but I’m not going to tell him that.
"Well, if you ever need me to give someone the stern talking to, you know where to find me."
All I answer with is a skeptical look at him that makes him burst into a chuckle. Stern talking to? Luca? The personification of a golden retriever?
"I'll be fine. Thank you."
I just decided to settle in for the night with a book, some room service hot chocolate and maybe a hot bath. After dinner with both sets of parents, Luca, Millie, Asher and Kayla where I felt like the fifth, or rather in this case the ninth wheel, I went to the nearest supermarket for some snacks, deciding to call it a day, when a flurry of movement from the window catches my attention.
No way.
I immediately stride over to the window, turning off the light in my room to have a better view outside, giddiness tickling in my guts as I watch snowflakes fall, completely in awe.
Yeah, there's not a chance in hell I could go to sleep now. Not while the first snow I’m seeing this year is falling.
There's just something magical about it, no matter how often I see it. The way it looks like glitter flakes in the soft streetlamp light and how it instantly makes me feel like a child again, about to enter a winter wonderland.
So, I quickly pull on another sweatshirt and jeans over the leggings I wore to dinner, then throw on my scarf that always threatens to drown me, pull on my shoes and rush to the elevators, winter jacket in my hand.
“Come on now,” I whisper and shift my weight from left to right as I wait for the elevator and I go even more crazy when it stops at every damn floor, even though nobody gets on.
And finally, when the doors open in the lobby, I push my way through all the people waiting for the elevator, too impatient to step aside, my elbows ramming several rib cages as they rush in and almost sweep me right back into it, when I’m stopped by a broad chest, face first.
“Sorry,” I mumble, and when I look up, my cheeks fill with heat. “Tanner?”
"Where are you running off to?" he asks, lips stretched in an amused grin, but I have no time for pleasantries. For once, I don't even tense as his warm voice washes over me.
"Snow," is all I answer excitedly before I rush past him with a spring in my step.
“Snow?”
I hear his shoes clicking against the marble floor as he follows me and I shake my head. He’s a bit like a dog, following along curiously just like he did when I went to the sex museum. But it doesn’t matter, because as soon as I’ve made my way through the revolving door, and a wall of freezing cold hits me in the face, I break into the brightest smile.
"Snow," I point out again and just stay frozen to the spot for a minute, feeling the cold flakes melting on my cheek, tickling my skin as they graze it.
"Snow," he agrees, his voice full of wonder.
"I'm going to take a walk," I tell him, my cheeks already hurting from smiling so much.
And without a word, there’s a silent understanding between us as the snow crunches under his footsteps as he comes along.
The city is all but deserted as we walk through the dark streets, only illuminated by the warm glow of the streetlamps, some fairy lights hanging over shopping streets and in trees, and the slivers of light coming from lit windows without curtains.
Maybe it's because anyone out and about would gravitate towards the Red Light District, since that’s obviously where the party happens.
But we walk right into the opposite direction, along the canals, looking at the beautiful house fronts, watching the snowfall as it drapes the whole city in soft quiet and the most beautiful glittering glaze.
Tanner is walking right beside me, but we don’t talk, both of us savoring the serenity in silence.
Until he begins to softly hum a song I know but can’t put my finger on, in an octave so deep it makes the hair on my neck stand up, a shiver running down my spine.
At the same time, the warmth of his melody washes over me, like walking into a room with a fire running in the fireplace, hot cocoa waiting for you.
"Which song is it?" I ask him softly, not wanting to disturb the moment but way too curious to keep the question to myself.
"Winter Wonderland," he whispers with an apologetic glance. "Sorry, I can stop."
"No," I whisper back, a blush creeping into my cheeks as I request, “Please don’t.”
It's a nice walk. The city looks so different at night, when the streets are empty and illuminations cast houses in such different lights. I could keep on walking these streets forever. But when I lift my finger to wipe a strand of my hair away from my face, I realize that they’re trembling with coldness.
"Maybe we should head back," Tanner says softly and reaches for my hand, tugging it into his pocket along with his own, his thumb drawing a pattern onto the back of my hand in an attempt to warm it up.
“Maybe,” I admit, lips pursed in a pout. I’m not quite ready to go inside yet.
Neither of us is moving, the silence around us suddenly incredibly loud. It feels like we’re in a bubble. Only him and me and the pull between us.
"My mom used to sing us to sleep with that song whenever it snowed," he explains, his voice barely above a whisper. "And then the next morning, she'd pull the wooden sleigh from the basement and take us outside, walk with us to a hill nearby and go sledding with us." A sad smile tugs at his lips and I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
"She sounds like a great mom," I tell him just as softly and he begins to walk, my hand still firmly in his.
"She was." He clears his throat, and I watch him subtly as he tries to blink away the emotions in his eyes and schools his face.
"You must miss her." I know I might be poking at memories he’d rather not share, but I just have a feeling in my gut that he wants to talk about her.
"I do," he says and pulls his scarf a little tighter around his face with his free hand. "It never goes away, you know. Sometimes it feels like both of them are right there and I catch myself talking to them. Some days I just wake up, and I miss them so fiercely." He grinds his jaw then runs his hand over his face. "I’m sorry, I don't want to bore you, didn’t want to bring the mood down."
"You're not," I assure him and give his hand another squeeze. But the moment is gone.
“Summer—” My shoulders tighten at the sound of my name in his deep bass voice. "Why do you do that?" he suddenly asks and glances down at me while I keep my eyes firmly ahead, cheeks warm with embarrassment.
"Do what?" I act clueless and avert my gaze.
"You tense up when I talk," he explains and when I try to pull my hand out of his grasp, he holds on tighter instead. "Why do you do that? Am I doing something wrong?"
“No, you’re not.” I feel my cheeks turn even warmer and clear my throat. How can I say this without sounding like I want to throw myself at him whenever he speaks? "I'm… not used to a voice like yours."
I blink at him, with the most sincere and innocent expression I can muster, then quickly look away. There’s no way I’ll tell him that his voice is making me all hot and bothered.
"So why does it make you look like a deer in headlights?" He pulls me closer until we're walking arm to arm, not a bit of space between us, my burning face averted from him.
I don't want to say it. But judging by the grin playing at his lips, he's seeing right through me.
"Does it get you hot?" I can hear the grin in his voice, but I don’t dare look at him.
How did we get from that emotional conversation about his parents to flirty and tension-heavy banter?
Finally, I glance at him. You’re fine, Summer. He’s not the first guy to try and get a certain reaction out of me. But the heat in his gaze when our eyes meet, makes me stop in my tracks.
"Does it?"
"Why do you care?" I try to pull my hand from his pocket again, but he keeps holding on tightly, not letting me escape this conversation.
"Don't evade the question, Summer."
I bite my lip. He’s so intoxicating, it's downright infuriating, how my resolve just melts as soon as my name falls from his lips.
"Maybe," I whisper, surprising both him and myself.
I take my chance, pull my hand from his grasp, loosened in surprise, and bring some space between us.
"Why are you running away?" We look at each other, heavy breaths turning white, and tension like sparks in the air between us, our eye contact now breaking once.
"Because I can't do this," I admit, frustration lacing my voice and point between him and me.
"Why not?"
"I’m a mess, Tanner." A cruel chuckle falls from my lips. “Job search is making me an insufferable person, my life feels chaotic and aimless and the last thing I need right now is to add anyone to the mix.”
He starts to laugh and shakes his head, quickly bridging the gap between us, until we’re only centimetres apart.
"I'm not asking for your hand in marriage here, Summer." He reaches for my hand again, putting my palm against his warm cheek as he continues. "I'm attracted to you. You're clearly attracted to me." I can’t fight the amused grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Or my voice." The corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. "We could have some fun together."
“Tanner…” I don’t even know what to answer, my thoughts racing through my head like a bullet train.
"There's clearly chemistry here. You want to do something about it? Or are we just going to pretend like we're not drawn to each other?"
My gaze jumps all over his face as I try to piece together my thoughts, biting my lip. Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm thinking way too deeply into this.
Maybe this is just what I need. A night of fun and recklessness that makes me forget about all of my worries. So I take a deep breath.
"You're right," I admit with a small nod. "I'm attracted to you." I reach up and gently pull on the ends of his scarf, until we’re face to face, our breaths mingling in the dark winter night.
"One night," I whisper, scanning his face for his reaction.
Instead of an answer, he leans forward, his breath feathering over my cheek as my eyes flutter closed. And then his lips are on mine, and my arms snake around his neck as he pulls me closer by the small of my back, our tongues dancing in a heated waltz.
Deep in my gut, I know this will become messier than I want it to. The way my heart races, the way my fingers tremble as I bury them in his soft hair, I just know.
Yet I can’t bring myself to stop.