Almost as if on cue, my phone buzzes. I pull it out and check the screen. It’s my teammate Saint. Speak of the devil…

Saint: Hey man. You good? We all miss you.

I chuckle and shake my head.

Really dude? I reply.

Saint: Sorry. Reeves paid me to say that.

I doubt that, but I don’t argue with him. Reeves is our team’s captain and the dude is grumpy as hell most of the time. I highly doubt he’s missing me.

Saint: So, what’s up, man?

I sigh and roll onto my side as I type out a reply.

Just hanging with the family. Helped my brother fix his truck today.

Saint: Cool. Well, hope to see you soon.

Even if it was a brief conversation, part of me is happy that Saint reached out. It’s nice to feel a connection with my team still. I feel so far away being out here in the mountains. I shove the pillow under my head and gaze up at the ceiling.

I’m still figuring things out after my dad’s death—we all are. But I’m beginning to realize that Graham has it the worst of all of us. Taking over the family business is a big responsibility, and his life will never be the same. Not that the guy was a barrel of fun before Dad’s heart attack, but now? Shit, I’ve been home for three days, and I’ve yet to see him smile or laugh.

And I shouldn’t have lost my temper on him earlier. He didn’t deserve that. He has a lot riding on him, and not in the fun, sexy way. I’m sure he hasn’t been on a date in months. Not that this town has much in the way of single women.

Except Summer. She’s single and smoking hot, none of which is all that helpful. Having her here is a distraction.

Though if I’m being truly honest, it’s a good distraction, and part of me is grateful for her presence. Something to distract me from family-related stress. Maybe I should be embarrassed that she’s here to witness it all, but I don’t. She said she’s not staying, so I guess it won’t matter anyway.

I’ve wanted Summer gone from the moment I first saw her, so why does the idea of her leaving now make my chest feel tight?

10

SUMMER

The mountain air must be getting to my head.

That’s the only logical explanation for what happened last night. Or rather, what I think almost happened.

Last night, when my hand was pressed against Logan’s cheek, his soft blue eyes dropped to my lips, and I felt something transfer between us. A spark, big and hot like the glowing embers of my fire this morning. I swear that in that second, he wanted to kiss me.