Page 47 of Finding Summer

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I glance in the rearview as I head down the road, Asra’s house filling the mirror. A soft glow from a light fills one of the windows. She’s up. She’s awake at a quarter past five. Maybe that means she didn’t sleep, either. That she was thinking about us all night. Something in my chest tightens.

Yesterday, she saw me. When she kissed me, there was something there. I wasn’t just a fun time or the add-on. I felt it, saw it in her eyes. Yeah, I’ll wait for now. But not long.

She’s going to be ours.






Chapter 12

Asra

“Ugh,” I rub my eyesfor probably the thousandth time in the last hour. “Why can’t I find one single hot, mysterious guy?” What does ‘make him more hot and mysterious’ even mean?Maybe tattoos?

I thought the romantic suspense mockup I completed yesterday was perfect. But no. Oh, no, the dude was not mysterious enough, apparently. I’ve been scrolling through stock images for the last two hours and am ready to gouge my eyes out at this point. I can’t find a single picture of a guy that I think looks sexy enough for her. Every picture I pause on ends up being the same, lots of muscles with long, blond hair and either blue or green eyes.

“Ugh.” I slam my forehead on the desk a few times. The hero for the book has brown hair. Short, freaking brown hair.

“I need a break.” If I keep overthinking this and stressing myself out, I’ll wind up giving myself an attack. Shutting my computer off, I push my seat back and stand up. I do a few quick arm stretches while I glance out the window.

Light, gray rays signaling morning’s arrival fill the sky.

“Time to be done anyway.” I twist from side to side, stretching my back, then trek my tea mug to the kitchen. Rinsing it, I focus out the window at the waves rolling in.

Calming, they radiate peace despite the power behind each undulation. I should be out there, taking a long walk or run. Clear my mind.

I bite my lip, glancing over at the neighbor’s house, but end up just shaking my head. I can’t hide inside forever. Besides, it’s only a run. I don’t plan on walking right up to their house or anything.It’s a decent sized town. Okay, so it’s tiny, but still, I don’t run into every single person who lives here every single time I step foot out my door. I probably won’t even see them.

“I can do this.” I nod for encouragement, then head to my room to change. After applying two coats of sunscreen, my trusty baseball cap, and sunglasses, I sneak out of the house.

Rather than turn toward Brendan and Breckin’s house and head out of town like I normally do, I head right, straight for town and all the crowded everything. Even this early in the morning, a few people are scattered along the beach. Keeping my head down, I jog past dozens of tourists and locals milling about on the promenade with their coffees in hand or hyper dogs on leashes.

By the time I reach the north edge of town and loop back around, I almost feel confident. With a smile on my face, I hold my head up and nod as I pass each person. I reach two houses down from my place when my feet stall. My smile falls, along with my stomach. I nearly trip, jolting forward as a pair of green eyes consumes all of my oxygen from ten feet in front of me.

He jogs closer. Five feet.

I glance from side to side, praying for a place to hide. Nothing. I close my eyes, head pointed straight down. It’s chicken of me. Well, more like an ostrich, but if I can’t see him, he can’t see me. My heart races, still I stand frozen. I can’t do the dating thing. It never works. It was a mistake to even go to their house in the first place.

“Asra,” my name on his lips has my eyes darting up to his. Even through my sunglasses, I can feel his eyes piercing straight through me.

“Hey.” I try to force a smile. It comes out as awkward and strained as I feel.

My stomach turns. Bitter pain bubbles deep inside it. Stress. The really bad type of stress. I need to get home, hurry and hide before an attack starts.

“Hey.” His eyes dart down to my waist, where my hands clutch my stomach. “Have you eaten yet? Are you hungry?”

“No . . . Um, no.”


Tags: Cassandra Cripps Romance