Summer Forever Read Free

shutters could use a fresh coat of paint as well. Park had warned me that this place was a fixer-upper, but as we walk in through the massive wooden door, I’m surprised that it’s not nearly as bad as I had imagined.
    Hardwood flooring groans beneath our feet as Park leads me from the foyer into the living room. It’s massive and has a beautiful fireplace in the center of the biggest wall. The walls are painted baby blue and are dotted with nails from where the former resident’s pictures used to hang. “We have to get rid of this ugly blue,” Park says, motioning for me to follow him into the kitchen. “You might want to close your eyes,” he says, placing his hand on my lower back. “And you know, just don’t open them at all,” he says with a snort of laughter. “The kitchen is ugly as hell.”
    I ignore his advice and look at the kitchen anyway. “You’re right. This kitchen is balls ugly,” I say, tapping my finger on the forest green Formica countertop. “But it’s huge, and that’s a good thing.” The kitchen is open and angular, with tons of cabinets and counter space. There’s an island in the middle with a bar and two French doors that open out into the back yard.
    Park nods and sits at one of the leftover barstools. “Here’s the plan: This bullshit linoleum is going tomorrow.  I’ve got some guys who are going to rip it up. We’re going to put eighteen inch square tiles down.” He points to his finger as he lists off his renovations. “Granite countertops and brand new cabinets. These are just the worst,” he says, looking with disgust toward the white painted cabinets. “And all new appliances, obviously. Fresh paint. It’ll be perfect after that. Same thing with the bathrooms. They’re all being totally gutted and redone. I’m not even going to show you those because they’re so blah and outdated.”
    I smile. “Look at you. All fancy and homeowner-like. You’re talking like…oh I don’t know, a thirty-year-old.”
    He gives me his sideways smile and motions for me to come closer. I walk up to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and stepping in the space between his legs while he sits on the tall barstool. We kiss and then he lets his forehead touch mine for a moment. “I love you,” he says, his breath warm on my lips.
    “I love you,” I say back. My fingers hold on tightly to the back of his neck. I need him close. I need him with me. I miss him so much when he’s gone that sometimes I miss him when he’s right here.
    “I could use some help picking out appliances and stuff,” he says a moment later. I stand up straight, keeping my arms around his neck. He slides his hands into the tiny back pockets of my Captain America booty shorts and now it’s hard to concentrate on anything but the feel of his hands on me.
    “Hmm,” I say, trying to concentrate despite his distractions. “I guess I could be convinced to go appliance shopping with you. But you’ll have to buy me ice cream or something because shopping for appliances is bor -ring,” I say, singing the last word.
    “All it takes is ice cream? Psh. Easy.”
    I roll my eyes at him and he pulls me in, snuggling his face against my neck and kissing me repeatedly until I squeal and pull away. “Have I told you that you look hot as hell in this costume?” he asks.
    “I don’t think you have,” I say. He slides his hands to my hips and tightens his grip. When his eyes trail down the length of my costume, I don’t get the creepy-crawly gross feeling like I did when Mark did the same thing. That’s because Park is allowed to ogle me. I love when he thinks I look cute.
    “Well, you look crazy hot.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “I should have knocked out that asshole who couldn’t keep his eyes off you.”
    “I know, but I’m glad you didn’t. I don’t need you in jail on Halloween,” I say. Earlier tonight, Park had shoved Mark against the wall, blocking Mark’s airflow by pressing his