Page 13 of Every Summer Since
“Oh, thank God.” She grabbed my arm with her free hand and squeezed it. “Please, please, please come join us at the fire. Both of you. Together. Right now.” She pressed one of the White Claws into my hand without asking. “I cannot listen to Bodhi explain his macro split one more time. I will actually lose my mind. It will just leave my body and go somewhere peaceful and I will be a skin sack lying on the sand.”
Summer made a sound that was almost a laugh.
“Bodhi’s here?” I asked.
“Bodhi is always here,” Capri said with a sigh. “He is a permanent fixture of this beach like the sand and the seagulls and the overpriced parking. He’s making people touch his biceps to prove they’re real. Why wouldn’t they be?”
I didn’t give a shit about his biceps. I wanted to talk to Summer. I wanted to ask her how she’d been for real. Was there someone in her life? What was she doing? Did she still live next door?
Capri didn’t wait for either of us to agree. She simply turned and walked back toward the fire assuming we’d follow. We did. Summer drifted a step ahead of me, putting just enough distance between us to make a point without being obvious about it.
There were about thirty people gathered around the fire. Some were sitting on driftwood logs that had been dragged up years ago and never moved, some standing, drinks in hand. The music was coming from a Bluetooth speaker balanced on a cooler. Someone had good taste. Zac Brown took me way back to my youth at Texas bonfires.
The first person to notice me was a guy I vaguely recognized from summers past. Older now, sun weathered, and a little softer around the middle. Time marches on.
“No way,” he said, pointing at me. “Anderson? Colt Anderson?”
“Hey, man.” I shook his hand. I couldn’t pull his name for a full three seconds. Then it landed. “Rick. How are you?”
“Good, good. You back for the summer?”
“Yeah. Just got in today.”
“No kidding.” He clapped me on the shoulder a little harder than necessary, like he was making it clear he was a little less muscular but still tough. It was a guy thing. “Man, it’s been forever. Your family good? Your dad?”
“Good. Everyone’s good.”
That was how the next ten minutes went. A handful of people I half-remembered and some I didn’t recognize at all cycled through the same conversational loop. How long you been gone, how’s the family, you staying all summer, man it’s good to see you. Surface stuff. The kind of talk that felt warm enough in the moment but didn’t actually tell you anything about anybody. Adulting 101: act like you give a shit in the moment but know you’re going to forget it five minutes later. I was good at it. Years of business dinners and investor meetings had made me fluent in pleasant nothing. I smiled and answered and kept half my attention on Summer, who had moved to the far side of the fire and was talking to a woman I didn’t recognize.
That’s when I felt eyes on me. Not in a good way. It felt like being sized up by a predator. I looked around the group and almost laughed when I spotted Bodhi. He was standing with one arm resting on the shoulder of some poor guy who clearly just wanted to drink his beer in peace. He was looking at me the way a dog looks at another dog that just walked into his yard. Not aggressive. Not yet. He was sizing me up. The territorial thing was subtle enough that if you weren’t paying attention, you’d miss it.
I didn’t miss it. He was a dog marking his territory and he clearly felt like I was invading his space. Wouldn’t be surprised to learn he’d lifted his leg around the area. We made eye contact. Neither of us flinched.
He was built. I’d give him that. The kind of body that came from a very dedicated relationship with the gym and probably a decent amount of time staring at said body in the mirror. He was good looking in the obvious way. The kind of face that photographed well and knew it. His hair was messy but I had a feeling it was intentionally messy.
I held his gaze for a beat, just long enough to let him know I was not intimidated. And then I watched him look at Summer. It wasn’t subtle. His whole posture shifted. The look lasted maybe three seconds but it told me everything I needed to know about the history between them and the fact that he was not done with it.
I felt my entire body stiffen. The muscles I had just abused on the extra-long run tensed, threatening to embarrass me with a vicious cramp. I took a pull from the White Claw Capri had handed me and reminded myself that whatever was or wasn’t happening between Summer and Bodhi was absolutely none of my business. I had no claim on her. I’d made sure of that, hadn’t I? I made my choices, as I’d so eloquently put it to her face not ten minutes ago.
I didn’t get to be jealous.
Bodhi broke away from his group and moved toward me. I knew the game. I could play along. I had to remember I was nearly a decade older than the guy. I had far more life experience and had done this dance more than he had.
He extended his hand and I shook it. “Bodhi Finn,” he said.
“Colt Anderson.”
He smiled. “You run?” he asked, nodding at my running shoes.
“Just got in from one.”
“Yeah?” His eyes did a quick sweep of me. Little weird to be scoped out by a guy, but whatever. “What’s your split look like? You doing distance or intervals on the beach?”
I stared at him for a moment, not entirely understanding what he was asking. I ran because I liked to run. It wasn’t like I was training to compete.
“Mostly distance,” I said.
“Smart. Sand running is brutal on the joints if you’re not careful. What are you doing for leg recovery? I just switchedto a cold plunge protocol, fifteen minutes post-run, and the difference is insane. Like genuinely insane. You lift?”
