Boys of summer, p.1
Boys of Summer, page 1
BOYS OF SUMMER
PENN CASSIDY
Boys of Summer: Copyright © 2023 Penn Cassidy. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used simply for the purpose of furthering the storyline and do not represent the institutions or places of business in any way. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental or used for fictional purposes.
CONTENTS
About Boys of Summer
Before…
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
About the Author
ABOUT BOYS OF SUMMER
I made a mistake when I left them without a word or a goodbye. I had my reasons, but try convincing them of that.
I spent every summer of my life at that beach, and stupidly, I let myself fall in love. When it was time to go, I figured cutting all ties would be easier than the inevitable rejection. I was so damn wrong.
But now I'm back at that beach of my childhood permanently, and they're not happy about it. They've moved on without me, and I have to live with the fact that it's all my own fault. Because of one stupid, reckless choice, my boys of summer slipped right through my fingers.
This novel is a complete rewrite of a previously published novella from the author's retired pen name, KM Raya.
This is a second chance, friends to lovers romance. TW for light bullying, enemies to lovers vibes, grief and angst. Otherwise, this is a sweet, beachy read about young love blooming into something real.
BEFORE…
There’s something so final about watching everything you know in life fade away from the small window of an airplane.
The California coast grows smaller and smaller the higher up we travel, and yet I can’t help but feel pulled in a different direction. My eyes wander to the far off horizon, where the vast, golden foothills eventually meet with the Pacific ocean somewhere too far for me to see.
Squinting my eyes, I strain, trying to catch a last glimpse of the best part of my life and it hurts more than I thought it would. I wonder, not for the first time if they’ll miss me the way I already miss them.
Summer is my season, the most wonderful time of the year and every single time we’re forced to return to our real lives, a small part of my soul remains on the coast.
I can picture them now—my River and my Luca, waiting at the docks for a sixteen-year-old girl who’ll never come back. Not next year, or the year after that. My time with the boys of summer has come to an abrupt end.
They were my everything.
Now, I’m their nothing.
Nora
My heart is racing, but not from anxiety. I wish it was just anxiety, at least that would be a familiar poison. I honestly can't tell what I feel more, excitement or terror. Both probably. Yeah, it’s definitely both.
Stopped in an intersection staring down at my phone, I try to let my mom’s words sink in, but all I keep hearing are two other voices. Voices from my past. They’re laughing at me, telling me I might as well not even bother getting on that plane my mom just booked for me. They tell me to stay in New York since I so obviously wanted to be here instead of with…them.
Several cars honk, jolting me back into the present, and I send the taxi drivers a half-hearted apologetic wave, to which they just flip me the bird. I’m only a block from home, so I break into a light, fast walk as my mind races.
We’re moving. As in leaving New York forever. After seven years, my mom finally met someone that convinced her to marry him, and now we’re following him to California. In three days. Three whole days until my entire life changes…again.
I’m twenty-three, so yes, technically, I could stay in New York if I wanted to, but Mom and I have always been partners in crime. She’s been a nanny for the same family since I was a kid, and I’ve never had a reason to separate from her. The idea of watching her fly off to the other side of the country without me hurts too much to even contemplate, so that’s not even remotely an option. Call me a momma’s girl, but I own it. She’s the best person in my life.
She’s been alone for too long and despite the happy face she puts on for everyone else, I can see behind it. She focuses too much on work and not enough time on herself, which makes me feel guilty sometimes since so much of her money goes into paying for my dance classes. But trying to convince her to let me pay my way is laughable. Mom’s the least selfish human being I know, which is why this news is so shocking.
Married? It’s all happening so suddenly, and I’m confused. Where is this all coming from? Who the hell is she marrying?
I race down the New York City street, suddenly realizing that this might be the very last time I get to call myself a New Yorker. Not that I really am one, but for the last seven years, this has been home. I love it here…right?
Working as a live-in nanny for the Pembrokes has been an amazing adventure for both me and my mom. We’ve lived with them since I was a kid, and they’re all I’ve ever known. Well, at least the part of my life that I choose to think about. Everything before that is kind of a blur.
She’s so good at her job that it was like we became a part of the family. We get free travel, free accommodations, a built-in family and not to mention I’ve benefited from free tuition at the same private schools as all the Pembroke children. My private schools in New York were amazing. I’d taken up some dance classes senior year with my mom’s encouragement and now have a pretty booming online following making YouTube choreography videos. New York is an amazing place for the artistically inclined to network and pretty much immerse yourself into the community of starving artists.
I guess that’s all about to change now, I mutter as I make my way through the front door of the Pembroke’s loft where I live with my mom and my dog, Cat. To call it a loft might actually be a gross understatement. It’s more like a penthouse. Mr. and Mrs. Pembroke actually own this building—this nine-story monstrosity of a building that houses their six-person family on each floor with my mom and I on the top floor.
Mr. Pembroke is some sort of app developer, but he comes from old, old money which helped to launch his company sky high. He and his wife decided somewhere along the way to squeeze out multiple children, so here we are, the beautiful and wonderful Elena Blair and her only daughter, here to help raise their children.
For the first time in well over a decade, I’m faced with the fact that this setup isn’t permanent. I mean, I guess I always knew we’d eventually leave and move on to a new family in need of a nanny, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept, no matter how excited I am.
“Tell me this is some kind of sick fucking joke.” My heart leaps into my throat as my bag drops to the floor and I place a hand on my chest, catching my breath. Lounging on my bed is my best friend Jax Pembroke, the oldest son of the family Mom nannies for. He already sounds pissed. My stomach sinks, the excitement ebbing away. “I just got off the phone with my dad and he told me your mom just put in her notice.”
“You really need to stop doing that, Jax, fuck, you scared the shit out of me.”
Cat squeezes around me and jumps onto my queen-size bed next to him. Jax stretches out all six feet of himself, taking up the entire mattress and runs a hand along Cat’s fur as my traitorous dog sighs happily.
Jax has a habit of coming into my room whenever he wants and it scares the crap out of me every time. He thinks he’s hilarious, but one of these days, I'm going to take a swing at him and he’ll regret it… Or, I guess those days are over now, aren't they?
“Stop stalling, Nora. When were you planning on telling me, when you’re already flying down the fucking runway?” Scooting up against the headboard with Cat following him, he leans against it, still glaring at me, waiting for me to tell him that this is all just one elaborate joke, which it obviously isn’t. “Your silence is telling,” he mutters.
“Jax, not right now—”
“Then when?” he cuts me off, folding his arms over his chest. “This couldn’t have come out of nowhere. You’re moving clear across the country without any warning and I’m seriously the last to know?” His blue eyes appear darker than ever before, clouded with hurt that has me feeling guilty. But guilty of what?
“Shit…” I walk toward the bed leaving my things scattered on the floor. “I swear I just found out literally ten minutes ago. Mom called and dropped the news like it was the goddamn weather. She’s boarding a plane tonight and I’m supposed to catch mine in a few days.” The phone call lasted less than five minutes before she had to go and I was left reeling.
His eyes narrow. “You don’t think she’s moving
I drop down next to Jax and Cat, petting her little, fuzzy head. I named her Cat the day I found her huddling in an alleyway soaked to the bone and so small I’d mistaken her for a kitten. She loves Jax and she’s going to hate me for taking her away from him.
Settling back against the headboard with my shoulder touching his, I finally let myself relax after the long walk home from my dance class. “Honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised, you know how she gets.” Mom is notorious for her impulsivity, and it’s always been a quality I admired about her.
“Fuck… This feels different,” he says, running his palm over his face with a long sigh. “Did you even know she was seeing someone? What happened to the last guy? Peter or whatever the fuck his name was?”
I chew on my lip. Come to think of it, no. I had no idea Mom had a new boyfriend. With her, though, it’s always up in the air. She’s a beautiful woman and unfortunately for the men of this poor city, she knows it.
“Who the hell knows anymore. And his name was Shawn, but I think she got bored with him when he invited her to bingo night down at the rec center for the third time.” I smirk at the memory of her horror-struck face when she got that invite. That was the last time I heard about Shawn. Poor guy. Cat burrows her cold nose into my arm and whines. I pat her head lightly. “I know, baby girl, I’m sad, too.”
I’m lying. Why am I lying?
“I can’t believe you're bailing on the audition.” Jax frowns over at me, his eyes tracing over my face, sending my pulse racing. Sweat starts to bead on the back of my neck. “You’ve been training a whole year to get this slot.”
“There will always be more auditions. I’m leaving Monday, so it would just be a waste of time. You know Katelyn wanted that spot, too, why don’t you ask her to partner with you instead? She knows that routine almost better than I do. You’re already in, so all you have to do is put in a good word for her with Lana.”
Lana Brice, one of the city's most famous choreographers for contemporary dance, offered Jax a small part in her upcoming showcase to launch the opening of a new contemporary and street-dance academy. He had to choose a female partner, but the catch was that I still had to audition in front of Lana herself. Our friend Kate wanted the spot, too, but everyone knew Jax would ask me first. We’ve been dancing in the same company for over six years and even though he’s a shit-ton better than me, we’re still a team for the most part. He’s my practice partner, and the one who made me the dancer I am today.
His face sours at the prospect of asking Kate, but I already know he will. There’s no way Jax could drop out of the showcase and Kate is just as good of a dancer as I am. We both have roots in ballet and slowly transitioned to contemporary over the years, so she’s a shoe in.
He nudges his arm onto mine, his lips twisting in a broken semblance of a smile. “You could stay here, you know. You’re twenty-three now, Nora, you don’t have to follow her around anymore.” He gestures around my massive room. “You already know Mom and Dad won’t care, and I’m sure your mom’s new boy toy will keep her busy in California.”
I take a second and breathe in deeply, knowing that, technically, he’s right. I don’t have to follow her anymore, not really. I’ve finished college, and have moved on to professional dance, making pretty good money, and I could support myself on that easily. But not yet. For so many selfish reasons…not yet.
“I’m not ready. I thought we had a few more years before I’d have to think about it.” I lower my eyes guiltily. “Living in New York is expensive, and if Mom goes back to California, I have nowhere to go.”
Lying. Always lying. Going back to California sounds like a dream. Every dream I’ve ever had since the day I left and never looked back.
Jax crosses his arms over his chest again his muscles flexing under his tanned skin. I try not to stare, but it’s difficult when he insists on wearing muscle tanks around the house. He was probably at the gym before I got home, and all of a sudden, all I can picture are his arms flexing as he pulls his body upwards on the pull-up bar. My mouth dries up and I clear my throat awkwardly. These weird-ass thoughts are getting worse lately, and I feel like it’s written all over my face.
Lately, I've been looking at my best friend a little too closely, realizing just how much his body has matured into someone women drool over. Every day, there’s a new girl following him around trying to fuck him, and sometimes, he takes them up on it. I used to give him shit for his casual hookups, but lately, the thought of him going home with someone makes my stomach want to crawl up and out of my throat.
I can feel him looking down at me, but I try to avoid his eyes, because one thing I know about Jax Pembroke, is that he might just be the one person in the world who knows me better than I do. He sees me laid bare in ways that should make me run for the hills, and he never lets me forget it.
“It’s them, isn’t it,” he says. It’s not a question. My mouth dries up and my hands ball into fists. Fingers touch the side of my chin, coaxing my eyes up towards his. His jaw flexes and his eyes dip for just a split second. “You’re going back for them…”
He already knows the answer, he just wants to hear me say it. I spent the last seven years regretting the way I left things back in California, when I left behind the people who meant the most to me without so much as a goodbye. Jax was there to witness the way it broke me, and the years it took to piece myself back together.
As much as I do love the life we’ve made here in the big apple, my heart still lives in California. It walks along the sandy beaches in boardshorts and tanned skin. It smiles as the waves crash in the distance, and dances beneath the full moon by the light of a summer bonfire. Seven years without the boys I left behind. Seven years with my heart torn from my chest. Seven years of pretending I can live without them.
Jax watches me with a pucker between his thick, expressive brows and I can tell he’s worried about something he isn’t saying. But that's how Jax is, always worrying about everyone but himself and always worrying about me. Leaving him will probably be the hardest part of this whole catastrophe.
Even now, I feel sick with the thought of it. I’ve never tried to imagine a day without him somewhere nearby. All the times he’s slept in my room, holding me while I toss and turn with nightmares of what I’d done and who I hurt...all the hugs, laughs, and shenanigans. All of our dancing, our late nights in the city, and our midnight workouts. I’ll miss him and crave his comforting presence the second my plane takes flight on Monday morning.
I want to cry right now, but I keep it in. If I let the tears flow, Jax just might be able to convince me to stay, and I can’t have that. Now that the plan is in motion, my heart is already sprinting down that beach.
“Tell me you’ll visit?” I say in a voice so small it’s a whisper. He just stares back at me with a clenched jaw, his eyes filled with anger and hurt so deep I can feel it in my own chest. There’s a seriousness in his eyes that hasn’t been there in all the years I’ve known him. Some sort of veil is lifting and it’s as if he’s letting me see what hides beneath his easy smiles and carefree nature.
Turning onto his side, the new position brings his face much closer to mine. I know this is a bad idea the very second my heart rate skyrockets. My hands feel sweaty and my stomach flips and somersaults. I watch in morbid curiosity as his eyes briefly flit to my lips. I can’t help but lick them in response.
Dangerous move…
“If you’re leaving…” he says, his face suddenly closer to mine than only seconds before. My heart hammers painfully. “Then there’s something I have to do.”
