13. RJ
RJ
W hen Summer emerges from the bedroom several hours later, she looks relaxed and refreshed. It warms my heart that I made her look that way. Fuck, she’s beautiful. Her brown hair is styled in loose waves, and she tucks it behind her ears as she makes eye contact with me.
I walk over to her and place a virgin strawberry daiquiri in her hand. “Here you go, birthday girl.”
“Mom!” Lana squeals, running over. “Happy birthday!”
“Happy birthday!” Logan and Lucas shout in unison from their spots on the loveseat.
“What’s this?” Summer looks down at the drink in her hand. “Is this what I think it is?”
“I want a sip,” Lucas whines, running over. Summer quickly takes a sip, turning out of his reach.
“It’s kid-friendly. I even made a blueberry citrus one that’s diabetes-friendly for Logan,” I tell her as she offers Lucas a sip.
“I have a non-kid version in the blue container in the back of the fridge if you decide you want to mix it up later,” I whisper once the kids are out of earshot. Her responding smile stirs something in my chest.
“We have a whole day planned for you,” Logan says, walking over to give her a hug.
“You do?” Summer looks at me with an eyebrow raised. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble. I don’t normally get to spend my birthday with you guys, so I’m happy just hanging out with you.”
I smile with full dimple. “It was no trouble.”
Lana grabs Summer by the hand, tugging her to the loveseat. “We’re gonna watch a movie with you, and then you can read your books on the beach with us.”
“And then RJ is making spaghetti with garlic bread.” Lucas says. Logan has his nose back in his book.
She glances at me over her shoulder, and I nod. “Can you start the movie for me? I’ll be right back,” Summer says to Lana as she walks toward me.
I flash her a smile, and my pulse quickens when I catch her staring at my dimple. “Are you hungry? I know it’s been a bit since breakfast. Do you want grilled cheese? Or we can snack now, and make an early dinner?”
“Thank you. This is really nice of you.” She drops her gaze, and I fight the urge to touch her, to hook a finger under her chin and tilt her eyes to mine.
“We wanted to do something to make your birthday special.”
She glances up, her eyebrows bunched in confusion. “We?”
I nod. “Me and the kids.”
“Oh.” She glances back at the kids quickly before she continues. “Can we talk?”
Fuck. This sounds serious. I wrack my brain for what I could have done. Was all this too much? “Right now?”
“Hurry, Mom, it’s starting,” Lucas calls.
Her eyes lock on mine. “Coming!” she says to him before addressing me. “Later.”
My stomach twists in knots as she walks over to the loveseat, cuddling with Lana and Lucas. I pull out my phone.
I did everything you said.
I made her pancakes. Breakfast in bed.
But she looks pissed and said she wants to talk to me later.
Raven
Are you being a dick?
No, I’m not being a dick.
Stop putting me in the middle of this. Just talk to her.
Did she say something to you?
Don’t be an idiot.
Even if she did, do you think I’m telling you?
I think I fucked this up. I’ve been trying so hard to show up for her. To be a good friend. To be consistent. But it feels like she’s keeping me at a distance and idk why.
TALK TO HER!
She’s watching a movie.
So, after.
Okay.
I love you, baby bro. Just listen to her. You used to be friends, I’m confident you can get back there.
Thanks. Love you too.
I look over at Summer again and smile as she mouths the words to the movie. I don’t want to be her friend. I want to be the one she counts on. The one she goes on adventures with. The Westley to her Buttercup. I’ve spent most of my life cherishing a woman I let slip through my hands.
I clean the kitchen, pretending I don’t want to be on that loveseat with her snuggled into my side.
I pull out the snacks the boys picked out and arrange them on a tray.
When Logan walks into the kitchen minutes later to get a glass of water, I nod for him to grab the tray, and I delight in the way Summer’s eyes light up when he brings it to her.
Even Sophie sets down her phone to dig in, throwing me a thumbs-up.
Fuck, I want more moments like this with all of them.
——————
The sun is getting closer to the horizon, but we still have about an hour before sunset.
After the movie, we all hung out on the beach for a bit, and then the boys came back early with me to make dinner.
They were helpful, and we had fun blasting rock music and singing along while we cooked.
Lucas wanted to eat outside, so we’re out here enjoying the last bit of sun as we eat spaghetti for Summer’s birthday dinner.
She’s been quiet since she got back from the beach, and there’s a pit in my stomach thinking about the conversation we’ve yet to have.
What does she want to talk to me about? I’ve done everything possible to show up for her and her kids this week.
To show her that she’s not a convenience and that I’m serious about being someone they can depend on.
I study her as if watching her eat would give me some sort of clue. When she brings the fork of noodles to her mouth, instead of shoveling the bite in, she holds it above her and laps at the noodle dangling from the tines. I fight back my smile as the patio door opens.
“Here, Mom, I brought you more smoothie.” Lana hands Summer the drink.
“Thanks, sweetie. Mmm. So good.”
She struggles with the straw, but she manages to take another sip, and I track every little movement of her throat as she swallows. And now all my dirty mind can picture is Summer on her knees sucking on my cock.
A dinner roll pelts the side of my head, and I look over at Sophie who rolls her eyes at me muttering “Gross,” as she takes another bite of her dinner.
Instantly I feel like shit. This trip was supposed to be an opportunity to spend some time with my daughter. That’s what I should focus on. But she’s been buried in her phone so much, I’ve been mostly ignored. And I’ve been fixated on Summer.
“Food fight!” Lucas yells as he tosses a handful of green beans at his sister.
Lana, not one to tolerate her brothers’ shenanigans, takes a handful of spaghetti and smashes it in Lucas’s face.
Sophie is cackling. The three tornados are pelting each other with food.
And Summer is just… sipping her drink. No, slurping her drink, as she drains the last bit through her straw rather noisily.
I’m dumbstruck. It’s not like her to allow this kind of behavior.
She usually puts a stop to it before it gets this far.
Summer swings her head to mine, and I quirk an eyebrow, gesturing at the chaos. She shrugs her shoulders in a “What can you do?” gesture and tries to take another sip of her empty drink, but her tongue keeps missing the straw.
I shouldn’t think about all the naughty things that tongue did to my mouth and neck back in high school. Or all the naughty things I want it to do to my dick.
She holds out the cup for me, silently asking for a refill, and I take it. Two meatballs pelt the side of her face in rapid succession, landing on the table with a plop. Her eyes go wide, and she stares at them. “Who threw their balls at me?”
The entire table breaks out into a fit of laughter.
“Mom said balls!” Lucas squeals.
“Make her say it again!” Logan says though a fit of snort laughs.
Lana points a finger at Logan. “Logan did it.”
“Did not. It was Lucas.”
Lucas throws his hands up in defense. “Was not!”
I back away slowly, deciding to let Summer handle this one. Raising one teenage girl was hard enough; I don’t know how she’s raising three kids on her own.
When I open the fridge, the blue jug is near the front instead of hidden in the back, and when I lift it, it’s practically empty. Fuck.
“Are you getting Mom more juice?” Lana asks, startling me.
“Yeah. Hey, sweetie, when you refilled her drink, did you use this one?” I hold up the blue pitcher.
“Uh-huh. She likes it. It’s almost empty.”
My gut twists at her words. I poured half a bottle of rum in there. “You didn’t drink any of this one, did you?”
“Nope. I don’t like smoothies, only milkshakes.”
Phew . “What about your brothers?”
“I gave Logan the special one you made him. And Lucas didn’t drink any.”
“Okay. This is going to be okay.” I let out a deep breath.
Tears well in her eyes. “Did I mess up? I was trying to help.”
I set the pitcher on the counter and drop to my knees to address her. “Sweetie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But your voice sounds like Daddy’s right before he used to yell at Mommy.”
What kind of dick would ever yell at that amazing woman?
I have a million follow-up questions, but I shove my ego aside and focus on reassuring Lana.
“I would never yell at you or your mom. I’m sorry if I scared you or reminded you of a bad memory of your dad.
Your mom is one of my oldest friends, and I would never want to hurt her.
But I don’t think she should have any more of her juice tonight. ”
“Did Logan and Lucas put something in it? Is Mommy going to get sick?”
Oh, she’s gonna get sick alright.
Her lip trembles as she fights the urge to cry. This part of parenting sucks, and even though she’s not my daughter, I know I have to choose my words carefully, so I don’t scar her for life. She lets out a hiccupping breath as tears spill down her cheeks. Shit, how did I fuck this up?
“One time my brothers made Mom breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day, and they put poop juice in her orange juice.”
I bite my lips to hold in my laughter. I know Summer wouldn’t want me to know this, but curiosity gets the better of me. “Poop juice?”
“It was a bottle in the cupboard that had an orange on it. They put the whole bottle in her orange juice. Logan said he thought it would make it taste better. And Lucas said he didn’t know it would make her sick, but she was in the bathroom yelling at us the rest of the day.”
“Was it MiraLAX?”