Page 1 of Stealing Summer
one
He spun the bottle, and my chance to escape was gone. As the bottle’s momentum dwindled, so did my spirit, leaving my stomach tangled in knots. My breath was shallow. Each exhale was a silent plea—please, not me. I watched with wide eyes, willing it to pass by me. Just another inch, just a?—
The collective gasp told me everything I needed to know before I even saw it.
“It’s pointing right at her!” The girl next to me insisted, relieved, as she pointed a finger at me and inched her body in the opposite direction.
Of course, it landed on me. As if drawn by some cruel magnetic force, there it was, pointing accusingly, sealing my doom.
“Looks like it’s your lucky day,” Beau said, his voice flowing with a confidence he clearly didn’t possess outside of this dark basement.
My gaze shifted from the condemning bottle to him, taking in his self-satisfied smirk. He licked his dry lips in a slow, deliberate motion, and I suppressed the urge to cringe. His hand raked through greasy hair that fell back into place as though completely untouched.
“Just do it already!” someone shouted, and the group formed a tighter circle as all eyes were on me and my impending embarrassment.
“Relax, you can’t rush the magic,” Beau said, as he leaned in closer, his scent of cool ranch chips mingled with the fall-scented candle flickering in the basement.
I squeezed my eyes shut so tightly I could see stars against the darkness of my eyelids. Beau was inches away, and every second felt like an eternity as I braced for the inevitable.
“What the fuck is going on down here? What are you, 12?” An unmistakable and irritating voice chastised.
When I snapped my eyes open, I saw that Beau’s expression had morphed into one of surprised annoyance. A surge of relief coursed through me, and I was able to breathe again.
My brother, Parker, was standing at the foot of the stairs. Behind him were three of his baseball teammates—all of them in their team jackets, right behind him like an oppressive wall.
“Guess that means you’re done playing, huh?” Beau leaned back, running his hand through his hair again, and this time there was no hiding the deflation in his posture.
“Oh, she’s done playing alright.” Boston, my brother’s best friend, smirked as he watched Parker closely—clearly amused.
“If you touch my sister, I will unfortunately have to punch you in the face,” Parker crossed his arms before he shot a death glare at Beau. “And trust me, you don’t want that inconvenience tonight.”
Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped, and color quickly drained from his cheeks. His hands rose up in surrender, a clear signal that the warning had hit home.
“Sorry,” I whispered, backing away. “He doesn’t always play well with others.”
My eyes met Parker’s for a split-second before I let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re so annoying,” I said, injecting a tone of irritation I was far from feeling. A slight smile betrayed my words, because, despite my annoyance at Parker, relief flooded through me. Parker might be an overbearing brother at times, but tonight, I was thankful for that interruption.
I made my way to the stairs, following behind Parker, not daring to look back at the circle of faces or at Beau, whose moment of triumph had been so swiftly snatched away.
“Seriously, Chandler?” Parker scolded as we reached the top step. “I didn’t bring you to this party so you could play with weirdos in the creepy ass basement.”
“I ventured off, okay? Sometimes it’s annoying listening to everyone with their, ‘Awesome season, Parker!’ or ‘Boston, you’re a legend!’ I get it. You had a great season.” I threw my hands up in the air, feeling the weight of their stares. “But that doesn’t mean you two are gods or something.”
“We don’t ask for all the attention,” Parker interrupted, his tone softening. “And you’re right, we’re not gods, but we sure are fucking legends.” He smirked.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head, feeling the tension ease. “Whatever,” I sighed.
“Let’s get out of here,” Parker urged, checking the time on his phone. “This place has a weird smell. You know how I am about smells.”
“Fine. Just let me use the bathroom,” I responded, already edging my way through the crowd toward the restroom. “I’ll meet you out front.”
“Make it quick!” he called after me, heading in the opposite direction.
As I stepped out of the front door a few minutes later, I pulled it shut with a gentle click and turned to find Parker lounging on the porch. He had that casual slouch he always did when he was making an effort to appear nonchalant. A half-smile played on his lips as if there was an inside joke he wasn’t telling me about. Beside him, propped against the whitewashed railing, was Boston.
“Well, if it isn’t the make-out queen herself,” Parker teased, pushing off from the porch and shoving his hands into the pockets of his faded jeans.
“Shut up.” I rolled my eyes, tucking a stray wave behind my ear. “And why are you both out here? I don’t need security just to walk a couple of blocks,” I asked, ignoring the way my heart skipped at the sight of Boston’s ocean-blue eyes on me.