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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days

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Winter's King 10

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: have a wondeful thursday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Queen Jazlene slumps against her chair. She’s barely awake as her eyes glaze over. Despite your deflections at serving her, she’d drunk herself to excess, swiping away goblets that weren't hers. Her constant imbibition has not been missed by her husband. Slanted looks and gristly whispers did little to deter her, your own gentle girding only fuelling her irritation.

The king stands, stepping forward to overshadow his slouching queen. He raises a hand to the remaining crowd; the clumsy and drunken dancers, the chittering ladies, and the boasting lords. They turn their attention to him and hush.

“So I must retire for the night, I bid you all a hearty rest,” he pronounces, “and may tomorrow see a brighter sun shine upon us all.”

A hurrah is sent up in return and the king waits until the large hall falls back into its previous din. He turns slowly, his head down, and flares his nostrils at his queen. His golden eyes skim up and down the table.

“Come,” he takes her hand, “let us get you abed.”

Jazlene yawns and hiccups. She does not resist as he tugs her to her feet, though she teeters once upright. He swiftly hooks his arm around her, keeping her away from the view of the hall. He huffs heavily and ushers her around the bench.

“Maid,” he demands over his shoulder.

You follow as he carries on, finding a door behind the high table. The dimness of the corridor fogs around his figure as Jazlene’s slippers begin to drag. She babbles and gurgles.

“I warned you not to drink so much,” he mutters, “why can you not obey? Why can you not just do what is best for you?”

You tread behind them silently. The king falters and grunts, scooping up his wife before she can slip further down his arm. As he lifts her, her head lolls back over his thick bicep. He growls and presses onward.

As he reaches her chamber door, you come around to open it for him. He doesn’t say a word as he enters and you wait near the entrance as he lays Jazlene down on the bed. She is very silent and still, only the subtle rise and fall of her chest suggesting a glimmer of life.

You peer around as the king looms over her, his hand on the post of the bed as he simmers at her. His other arm bends as he rubs the bridge of his nose. You go to the vanity and take the now cool basin of water. You reach into your apron pocket as you hug the large bowl and cross to the bed.

You pull out a cloth as you sit on the edge of the mattress and balance the bowl against your bent leg. You wet the fabric and lean over the queen to wipe her face. The kohl around her eyes has begun to smear and a sheen of sweat layers over her rich skin. You sense the king watching your deliberate tending.

“You are good to her,” he remarks.

“She will not feel well in the morning,” you say, “I will make sure she has water to drink and a warm compress when she wakes, your highness.”

He’s quiet as he considers your words, “you will stay with her?”

You wring out the cloth and fold it over the edge of the basin before moving it back to the vanity. You face the king and clasp your hands over your apron, “she cannot be alone when she has drunk so much. Once...” you shake your head and let the statement taper out, “your highness, she will need me.”

“Hmm,” he pulls his hand off the post, pacing around the end of the bed and turn towards you, “once what?”

“Nothing, your highness. It was only a memory I had. It doesn’t matter now.”

“I would like to hear it,” he insists.

You swallow down the dryness in your throat, “your highness, well, her mother, the duchess, she is the same about wine. Once she drank overly much that she did not wake when her stomach revolted. If we’d not been there to watch over her, she might have choked on it.”

“Ah, yes,” he stops, just a step away, “that would be unfortunate. I will thank you then for keeping a close eye on my lady wife.”

“As is my duty, your highness.”

His eyes blaze down at you and he shifts on his feet, “but will you sleep?”

“Me? I rest in the cart--”

“We will not leave on the morrow, I have business yet in the capital,” he explains, “when the lady is awake, you will make certain she is conscious, then you will go and seek rest of your own.”

“Your highness, how generous, but she would need to break her fast, and dress anew, perhaps bathe--”

“There are other maids in this castle. I am commanding you to retire for the day. You will need strength for our pending departure,” he bids, “to serve your queen upon the road.”

You bow your head, apologetic, “your highness, I did not mean to argue. Certainly, I will do as you say. Thank you for minding me.”

He inches forward and your shoulders slant as you shrink for his closeness. You see his thick fingers twiddle at his side and his hot breath blasts over you like a brazier. He cautiously bends his arm and touches the front of your apron. You quiver as you watch his calloused hand climb up the stained fabric. He pauses and shudders, pinching the loose thread poking out from the belt. He pulls it loose and rolls it between his fingertips.

“You will have new clothes,” he backs away, feeling the thread, twisting it, “you are a queen’s maid now. Not some castle sweep.”

You squeeze your hands tighter as you stare at his tunic, “yes, your highness. Thank you anon.”

He turns on his sole reluctantly and looks upon the bed. You follow his gaze to his subdued wife. He hangs his head and puts his back to you before he pivots toward the door. He stalks toward it and pulls it open with enough strength to make the hinges whine.

“Good night, little maid,” he drawls just before the door snaps shut in his stead.

You raise your eyes completely and stare at the heavy wooden slats of the door. Your chest is knotted so tight you can hardly breathe. The king’s displeasure lingers even his absence. Is he unhappy with his inebriate wife or is it you? You quickly dismiss the latter. You don’t matter so much. No, his marriage is not an easy one thus far.

⚔️

You only know Queen Jazlene is awake as she spits bile onto the floor. Her head hangs over the side of the bed as she wretches and spews, coughing and gagging until she goes limp and groans. The acidic smell permeates the chamber and you come forward to clean it away with a cloth.

Once you’ve sopped up the mess, you leave her to dispose of the smelly rags and return with a cool, fresh basin and a new cloth. You help her onto her back, propping her against the pillows and clean her face anew. She moans as she keeps her eyes closed, a ripple in her forehead.

“Too bright,” she mutters.

“I will draw the curtains, your highness,” you assure her as you rescind the cloth and rise to do so.

She winces as you pull the heavy drapes together and groans, “my husband... did he not see back to my chamber?”

“He carried you here, your highness,” you explain, “you were not feeling well.”

“Mm, I still do not,” she decries.

“Shall I call for a bath?” You suggest.

“Do what you will but be quiet,” she hisses as she shades her eyes beneath her long fingers.

She gurgles as she sinks down and rolls upon her side. She curls up and you stare at her back. You go to the door and ease it open. You emerge and pass between the guards without. You are no more than a draught to them. As you approach the stairs, your name is called from ahead. You peer down the next corridor.

“Eh, there you are,” Bryce approaches. You can tell by the shine in his hair that he has bathed, “and what mission has you so intent?”

“I am to fetch lemon water for the queen. She has a sour stomach,” you say and turn back to the steps.

The soldier descends apace with you and chortles, “as she would. She can drain an ewer like no other I’ve seen.”

“Mm,” you hum grimly.

“Ah, pardon, I do not mean to be cruel,” he says, “it is only... often we reap what we sow, yes?”

“I suppose,” you allow.

“Speaking of, mouse, it is your turn to reap,” he spins and stretches his arm across your path, “king’s orders.”

You shake your head in confusion.

“The queen--”

“I will send another for her lemon water. But our dear liege and lord has bid that you rest your head. And I do concur. You are only mortal, little mouse.”

“But I must--”

“Obey your king,” he insists and rescinds his arm, crossing it with his other across his chest. “I’ve been given leave to treat you as prisoner if ye resist but I do not wish to go so far.”

You frown. You recall the night before. The king’s orders are not forgotten but you thought perhaps they mightn’t be standing. You bow your head and press your palm to your stomach, another memory flitting through your mind. The king’s hand brushing along the belt of your apron.

“I’ve acquired you a fine chamber,” Bryce says. “Gods, how could one ever be so glum about a bed of their own?”

“Sir, I am not unhappy,” you counter. “I am...” you lift your head, “tired.”

“Oh, how the fates align,” he quips, “come then. There is a bath and new dress too. I was too kind to mention it but you were starting to smell a bit too close to Daisy.”

You can’t but laugh and snort, “hey!”

“May as well take benefit in staying still,” he says, “now, let us hurry before the water is cold.”

You acquiesce and follow him away from the kitchen. You hope Jazlene is not discontent with your straying. You walk along several corridors and up to the second floor again. You do not expect to stop at one of thick doors meant for nobility.

“In here,” Bryce takes out an iron key and unlocks the door. He pushes it open and steps back. “I will come in an hour to look in on you but I trust by then you will be abed.”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you affirm.

“Be certain to have some of the food,” he orders you, “much better than the goat meat I’ve been chewing on.”

You thank him one last time and enter on your own. He closes the door behind you and you hear the lock twist. The loud grind of cogs does not unsettle you. It’s rare you ever have a moment of solace, though often you feel alone.

You look around the chamber. It is much too grand for you. There is a wide bed at one end with a long canopy. The window lets in a warm breeze as the steam coiling from the large tub dampens the air. The furniture here is just as fine as that in the queen’s rooms.

You meander around and stop before the covered tray on the round table. You lift the lid and reveal an assortment of fruit and cooked oats drizzled with honey. Your stomach roars and clenches painfully. Without a thought, you sit on the stool to gulp the porridge from the brim. You empty near half the bowl before you stop to catch your breath.

You pluck at the citrus and devour the fruit with delighted purrs. When you have glutted your hunger to the point of discomfort, you lick your lips and rise. You near the tub as untie your apron. Your body aches for the heat of the water.

You leave the layers of your filthy garments on the floor and step into the depths. You sigh as you lower yourself in. Relief seeps through your flesh and enshrines you. You lay back for a time and bask in the calm. Before the water can cool, you sit up to scrub yourself clean.

When you finish, you climb out and pull on the shift folded on the top of the stack; a dress, and apron, stockings, and even shoes. There is no cap. You fish around your disposed clothing and retrieve your own. You soak it in the bathwater, wringing it out until it’s not so browned.

A knock comes at the door. You sit on the edge of the mattress and call to the visitor, “hello?”

“Eh, it’s me,” Bryce’s salty timbre comes through the wood, “you sleep now, mouse.”

“Yes, sir.”

He taps the door and you hear his footsteps fade away. You recline across the bed and stare up at the canopy. You close your eyes but your stomach is uneasy. You don’t know why. The bed is too soft, the linens too fluffy.

You puff and sit up. You get to your feet and circle around the bed to the short bench across the foot of it. You tuck yourself onto the barely cushioned wood and bend your legs to fit. You fold and arm under your head. Much better.

It isn’t very long before you succumb to your fatigue. You don’t realise how tired you truly are until you’re buried in sleep. Heavy and dark, almost suffocating.

Behind your eyelids, you see streaks of colour, curling and rolling into visions. Shadowy forests and endless roads, the clop of horse hooves, the rattle of axles, and the crunch of boots in the dirt. The preening whine of the Queen as she splashes wine across your face. You gasp through the acrid sprinkle and fall backwards into air.

You land on a heap of hay. You’re back in Debray, in the barn where you would flit away with Merinda to eat or even steal a nap. She would watch at the window and you would doze or nibble. You look over but do not see her. Instead, another stands at the opening.

The king’s silver white hair hangs in waves down his muscled back. He wears only breeches as he stares off into the distance. The window greys with a storm beyond, pulsing from shades of dove feather to harrowing black. He faces you and his golden eyes glow like a wolf’s.

You sit up and whimper. He prowls closer and closer, thunder crashing as a great gust blows through the barn. Then all at once, the tempest subsides and the wooden walls turn to stone. You’re trapped beneath something unbreakable, like iron, wrists bound. You look at your arms, pinned by large hands. You look above you and find yourself straddled beneath the king.

He leans in, closer and closer, his fiery breath razing over you.

“Little maid...”

His growl snakes around your neck and you wake with a start. The bench teeters as you sit up, your hand gripping your forehead. You blink and look around, clearing the haze from your sleepy eyes.

Just as in your dream, you are not alone.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #winter's king #the witcher

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broadstbroskis · 11 months

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cruel summer | matthew tkachuk

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more

15k, summer romance, fwb to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, significant references from cruel summer

+playlist

a/n: hi! i’m back, maybe! kinda. i am not exaggerating when i tell you this has been years in the making. someone once asked me a question about what song i would love to write a fic about and i said cruel summer by taylor swift. shoutout to them, whoever you are, for inspiring this! at some point, i lots of continuity errors that are not really relevant to the plot (i.e. matthew was traded to the panthers, although neither calgary nor florida appear in this, ages, etc.)

HUGE thanks to the many friends who cheerleaded me on with this. some of you don’t even go here anymore, i love you still and hope you’re all doing well. for those of you that still are ( @blueskrugs @matthewtkachuk @miracleonice87 @laurenairay probably more, i’m sorry i’m forgetting!) you are all amazing, i love you, you’re all incredible and supportive and the best!

Growing up, your year was split into three seasons: football season, lacrosse season, and summers at Cape Cod.

Your dad’s football season began early; he’d go off to training camp well before your mom would move you and your brother back home for the school year, and even once he’d retired from the sport and moved into a broadcasting role, he was still back and forth for the last month of summer much more frequently than the rest of you.

Lacrosse came next, the sport that both you and your brother loved. Once preseason began, it was all you lived and breathed until the season was over, whether that was in heartbreak or absolute elation.

But for all that you loved lacrosse, summers at Cape Cod were your favorite. You lived for those summers at the Cape, you loved the friends you made there, you loved the time spent at the beach, the peace felt there. Those summers were like no other part of the year.

So you were excited to be able to spend one last summer there before you had to enter the real world. One last hurrah of no worries.

Or at least, that’s your plan. You’re sure that your mom’s got other plans for your summer, but honestly, you’ve got a job lined up that’s set to start in September, once intern season is over, and you’ve got nothing planned besides sitting your ass on the beach with a book in one hand and a drink in the other until then.

Your parents had mentioned working on the house over the year, but the basics remained the same and the excitement for summer starts to bubble within you, as you make your way to your room, chatting with your mom as she points out some of the work they’d had done. Her next project- the downstairs bathroom- was ready to be started and she already wanted your opinions. “I brought cabinet and back splash samples to look at!”

“Deal.” You laugh, hanging off the door frame of your room, eager to get inside and throw your stuff down. “This weekend, for sure.”

Your room is familiar, unchanged in every way since you last left it, to the point that there’s still half a bikini out on the balcony that you must have forgotten to pack up last summer. You drop your suitcase on the floor and open the door to grab it, immediately distracted by the sea air, leaning against the railing.

“Yo!” A voice calls, and you look over to find its source, grinning when you do.

There’s a boy on the balcony facing you from the house next door-well not really a boy anymore; he’s got five years in the NHL under his belt now. But regardless, Matthew Tkachuk is grinning at you from the balcony next door, just like he used to every summer when you were growing up.

“Hey!” You call back, waving excitedly, and as if being here with your family and your summer friends wasn’t enough to make this the best summer, having Matthew here too? Well, your last hurrah was just getting better.

-----

It’s far later than you would have woken up if you were going to lacrosse practice at school, but still far earlier than you’d like to wake up in the summer, when you find yourself blinking at the wall, unable to fall back asleep and feeling restless, so you slip out of bed and start digging through your stuff for some running clothes.

If you’re not going to sleep in late, you may as well get a good run in.

The route you start is familiar, an old comfort, and it brings a grin to your face to see everything that’s still the same and all the things that have changed since your last time running this path a few years ago.

A few minutes in, you notice someone fall into step beside you and look over to find Matthew running beside you. “Hey.” You pull an AirPod out of one ear and he does the same, returning the greeting.

“God, why are you awake?” Matthew asks, and you can hear how tired he is.

“Used to waking up early.” Seriously, lacrosse workouts had started hours before this. “Why are you?”

He pulls a face. “Needed to get a workout in before we go grab the boat from the marina.”

“What, and Brady doesn’t?”

“Lazy fucker said he’d do it after.” Matthew grunts. “Not gonna happen.”

“Ohhh, calling out conditioning already! I love it.” If you thought your own family was competitive, the competitiveness of the Tkachuks, put you all to shame. It was fucking hilarious to watch, a highlight of every summer.

Matthew shrugs. “110% to everything, right?”

“I want a front row seat when you guys play corn hole this week.”

“Shotty Taryn.” Matthew grins.

“Poor Brady.” You lament. “Not even going to know what hits him.”

Matthew shrugs. “That’ll teach him to sleep in.”

You burst out laughing, then have to stop running because you think you’re going to die if you continue doing both. “Oh my god, you asshole.”

Matthew shrugs again, waiting for you to catch up with him a few steps ahead, but he’s laughing too, which just sets you off more, and honestly, you might need more than a minute to recover from this one. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him and you’d forgotten how much fun it was just hanging out with him.

-----

“There’s a party tonight,” Nora, who comes from one of those Kennedy-esque giant New England families and has been summer-ing three doors down from yours for as long as you can remember, says, not even bothering to lift her head up from the towel she’s sunning herself on. “That a couple of guys from my school are throwing.”

You shrug, dragging your attention away from the game of cornhole that Matthew and Brady are playing with a couple of your other friends, Ethan, and Jake. “I’d be down.”

“You just want to hook up with Alex Miller one last time.” Bri, Nora’s cousin and best friend- a wild friendship that you have never been able to fully understand, but one that you think could just watch the back and forth for hours-accuses her.

“So would you, if you knew the things he could do with his tongue.” Nora waggles her eyebrows.

“This was a bad time to come over.” Ethan cringes and you, Bri, and Nora all burst into laughter as you see the same look on Ethan, Jake, Matthew, and Brady’s faces, game of cornhole evidently complete.

“Party tonight.” Nora explains. “You in?” Ethan and Jake both immediately and excitedly agree so you turn to Matthew and Brady. “You guys coming?”

Brady shrugs super nonchalantly, but Matthew nods. “Yeah, sounds fun.”

Nora grins. “Sweet. We’ll meet you outside tonight at 10.”

It’s already 10:15 when you and Bri make it down to their kitchen, finally dressed, already a little tipsy, and still waiting on Nora, but the boys have let themselves in and made themselves at home, drinks already in hand. “Uber will be here in five.” Jake says.

“Fuck.” Bri’s eyes widen and then she goes to shout off for her cousin as you laugh, suggesting a round of shots quickly before you go.

The best part about some of these old Cape Cod houses is all the land they have and how far they are from the main roads or, better yet, their closest neighbors, and when the Uber drops you off at the end of a driveway, it takes a minute before you realize the party is already in full swing. There’s music bumping, the bass is heavy, and there’s a bonfire crackling on the beach, which is absolutely where you’ll be headed just as soon as you find the keg and get yourself a drink.

“There’s your boy.” Bri elbows Nora, when the group of you are barely halfway up the driveway, and Nora holds a peace sign up to all of you as she dips off to the side.

“See you next week!” Ethan jokes to her, because she's known for disappearing for weeks at a time in the summer once she finds a boy, only showing her face at parties and the occasional beach day until she’s ready to find the next one.

Nora pauses long enough to turn and flip him off, grinning at all of you as you laugh, even Brady, who’s definitely least familiar with all of you, barely old enough to even sneak beers off to last time you were all in town together, but then she's off, and so are the rest of you, filling cups at the keg and moving through the party, saying hi to friends and familiar faces from summers’ past.

But the bonfire was your goal from the minute you entered this party and it’s where you find yourself almost immediately, squishing yourself into the smallest space, enough that it’s barely even a seat next to Mathew, practically half in his lap. “Hey!” He whines in protest, but it doesn’t sound serious at all, even as you shift yourself around and drape your legs over his.

“Thanks for sharing, Matty!” You beam but immediately want to take it back as he rests his cold cup against your leg.

“Payback.” He grins right back, but transfers the cup to his other hand, resting his free hand there instead, thumb just gently brushing back and forth over your skin, and quickly the two of you lose yourself into catching up with your friends again.

——-

“I’m dying.” You tell Matthew, when you meet him at the end of your driveway the next morning.

“I already puked in the bushes across the street.” He tells you. “Not sure how long this run is lasting.”

It lasts until you puke in the trees lining a stretch of road, which sets Matthew off as well, and then you both stop in a nearby convenience store to grab gatorades, before walking slowly to the beach and just...sit, slowly sipping.

“This is much more my speed today.” You tell Matthew, yanking your tank top off over your sports bra to use as a pillow and lying back on the sand.

“Yeah.” Matthew agrees after a minute, sounding a little spacey, so you turn to follow his voice, only to find that he’s done the same as you, and is lying back as well, showing off a lot of skin, and a lot more muscle than when you’d last seen him a few summers ago.

You feel a little ridiculous when you find your eyes lingering on the slope of Matthew’s shoulders and down to his pecs- after all, you’d spent all day at the beach together yesterday and hadn’t had this issue-but you can’t seem to take your eyes off him.

“Gonna stay here a while.” You close your eyes, turning away from Matthew, soaking up the feeling of the sunshine, already feeling yourself drifting off into a nap.

“Power move.” Matthew agrees and the next thing you know, someone’s pressing a cold can into your stomach.

“Holy shit!” Your eyes pop open as Jake laughs above you. “You asshole.”

“Here.” Jake passes you the beer can and a koozy and even as you feel your stomach turn, you pop it open.

“I’m going to regret this.” You tell him.

“Summer, babe!” Jake shrugs. “Live it up.”

And well, that’s what you’re here for, right? That was your whole plan for this last hurrah, wasn’t it? So even as your stomach turns, you cheers your beer with your friends, moving closer to Matthew to make room for the rest of them to throw everything down, thoughts of his shoulders almost forgotten as plans for tonight start coming together.

Almost forgotten.

-----

Tuesday night is burger night at the country club and it’s been a weekly event for your family since you were a little kid. So after another long day at the beach (and a much needed post-beach day shower), you and your mom make your way to the club to find your dad already waiting for you at a table on the patio. He’s flipping through the menu, like he doesn’t order the same burger every week, and he’s already ordered drinks for all three of you- a whiskey for himself and a glass of wine each for you (rosé) and your mom (chardonnay).

“How was golf today?” You ask your dad, already grinning and ignoring the glare your mom sends your way. Magic Steve, as he was known by almost everyone, after a football season filled with comebacks leading to a Super Bowl win, had picked up golf the second he retired from football, too competitive to sit around and do nothing, but the magic didn’t carry over and he was terrible at it, no matter how many lessons he took. You lived for his stories about how each different course was out to get him in a different way. Would it be the ball’s fault he lost today or his putter?

“Awful.” Your dad says, launching into a story about the eighth hole- the bane of his existence- and the group in front of them, and the cart girl, and his caddy, each playing a role in why he lost today. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back and work the course this summer?”

“Sorry.” You tell him, sure that you sound anything but about why you don’t want to come back to being a cart girl. The money was great, but, “I’m a free agent this year.”

He laughs. “What’s your starting offer then?”

“Sunshine, sand, and beer.” You grin.

“Got all those things here.” He jokes and it takes a second before it lands.

“Ugh, lame.” You tell him, but you can’t even keep a straight face because he looks so proud of himself. “Just like your score today, apparently.”

“Cold-blooded.” Your dad says as your waiter approaches. “Taught you so well.”

“Steven.” Your mom rolls her eyes, exasperated.

Your dad winks at you and you hide a giggle as you order. The conversation turns to some of the decorating ideas for the downstairs bathroom and when your mom wants to really get started, before switching to your brother, some of the neighbors, and some hot town gossip.

“Before I forget!” Your mom says, as your dad is paying the bill. “Chantal wants to do dinner with everyone when Chase is here this weekend.”

“Can you clear time in your busy schedule of sitting around doing nothing?” Your dad deadpans.

“I’ll have you know that Matthew and Brady are right next to me sitting around and doing nothing, but I guess we can make time for Chase.” You sigh dramatically.

He shakes his head at you fondly, ruffling your hair as you try to stand up from the table. “Must be a nice life.”

“Very peaceful.” You tell him, finally standing. “Maybe one day when Chase is here I’ll join you on the course and kick your ass.”

“Remember you said that next time you come home at 2am drunk and I let you sleep in.” Your dad advises, as the three of you start walking out toward the cars, because you both know the potential for you to beat him is there. “Because I will.”

You giggle and blow him a kiss, even though you know you’ll pay for it later. “May the best golfer win!”

It’s once you’re home, barely an hour later, that the text comes in.

ice cream🍦?

There’s really nothing to even think about. You were two seconds from your pajamas and bed but as soon as Matthew texts you to ask, you can practically taste a Dresner’s cone in your mouth. Meet you out back. You send back and then slip on some sneakers and head back downstairs.

“Where are you going?” Your mom looks surprised. You had, only a few minutes ago, ducked out of watching a movie with her and your dad because you were too tired from your long day in the sun.

You’d taken a lot of shit for that one.

“Dresner’s with the Tkachuks.”

“Oh, she can stay up for ice cream.” You hear your dad call out sarcastically.

You grin. “Bye, love you!”

When you get out back though, the only Tkachuk out there is Matthew. “Ready?” He twirls the keys around his finger.

“Yup!” You follow him around the corner to their garage, sliding into the passenger seat. “Siblings busy?”

He nods, starting the car. “Taryn’s with her friends.”

“And Brady?” You prompt.

“Brady’s with Melissa.” He smirks.

“Brady!” You say, putting on the most scandalous tone you can manage. “Look at him, growing up!”

“Grown up Brady is just one more person to share beer with.” He points out.

You burst out laughing. “We’re all legal adults now that can buy alcohol whenever we want. Some of you all even have jobs. I don’t think sharing beers is a problem anymore.”

“Yeah, it’s a good life now.” Matthew laughs.

You nod in agreement, grinning and jumping out of the car practically before he puts it into park and ignoring his glare. “Yeah it is.”

It’s late enough at night now that the families with young kids have mostly cleared out of Dresner’s, but there are plenty of high schoolers hanging outside still, which only makes you feel old as fuck when you glare at a pack of them for getting too close on their bikes.

Matthew’s cracking up at the look on your face as they pass. He has to stop walking for a second, hands on his knees and bent over to catch his breath.

“They almost ran me over!” You protest.

“Uh huh.” He says, failing to hide a smirk, as he presses his hand to your back to lead you to the counter. “Sure.”

Nothing about Dresner’s has changed since the two of you were kids, from the large blue and white planks the building is made from to the giant fading board listing all the flavors. In fact, the only thing that ever changed was the chalkboard in the center window listing the special monthly flavor- strawberry shortcake for May.

Matthew’s already eyeing it up, but you know exactly what you’re ordering. “Mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone with rainbow sprinkles, please!”

The teenager behind the counter raced off to make your cone, but next to you Matthew’s laughing. “Ever going to try something different?”

“Why should I when I’ve already found the best?” You laugh, accepting your ice cream from the teenager.

He laughs, shaking his head at you fondly, and placing his order- strawberry shortcake with hot fudge- before turning back to you. “How do you know it’s the best if you’ve never even tried any of the rest? You’ve been eating mint chocolate chip on a waffle cone since we were six!”

You smile sweetly at him. “From every bite of yours that I take.”

“Well maybe I just won’t give you one today.” He threatens and you laugh.

“Yeah, okay.” You snort, reaching for your wallet.

Matthew waves you off with his credit card, already passing it over the counter as he accepts his cup of ice cream. You thank him quickly and then reach for his spoon. “No!” He protests, lifting his ice cream out of reach as the two of you start walking away from the counter. “No way! Branch out with your choices! Stop being a thief!”

“Come on! One bite. Please?”

“No! Get your-” He starts, but you reach up to touch the skin on the underside of his arm, just under the sleeve of his t-shirt, already knowing his reaction. “Fuck! Your hands are cold!” His arms come down and you make your move, leaning in to lick at the ice cream in his cup, like you would your cone. He yanks the ice cream away, but it’s way too late, reaction far too delayed this time.

“Mmmm.” You grin. “But still not better than mint chocolate chip!”

But when you look over at Matthew, he’s got this weird look on his face, something you can’t really place. It takes a few seconds for him to even realize you’ve spoken and he blinks a few times before he responds. “You’re unbelievable.” He finally says but it sounds a little different than before, less like banter and more...serious? But maybe not in a bad way either...

You're not really sure what happened there or how to take that, so you just nudge him with your shoulder and keep walking next to him. “I know.”

-----

While on your run the next morning, Nora texts your group chat about a party that Alex Miller was throwing that night.

Oh you’re alive?? Bri texts, before confirming that she’ll be there.

Ethan and Jake are quick to pile on with jokes as well, and confirmations, asking about what time they should all arrive.

There’s a bunch of messages to catch up on when you and Matthew end the cool down to your run with a quick dip in the ocean before you sit on the beach between your houses for a few minutes to dry off.

“Party tonight?” You look over, eyes caught on a water droplet rolling down Matthew’s bicep as you wait for him to respond.

“Yeah.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his, but thankfully, he’s not looking at you and didn’t catch you staring (this time, at least, because it’s definitely happening more often).

“You don’t sound very excited.”

Matthew sighs, rolling on his side a little to look at you. “Getting bored.” He says, in that way that usually means he’s about to come up with a terrible idea. “Need something new to do.”

It’s only years of summers spent with Matthew that tells you him being bored is bad for you all. He’s too used to moving constantly to sit still and relax like this all the time. “Want to take a boat out one day this week?” You suggest. “Do some water sports?”

His face lights up instantly and you know right away it was the right thing to say. “Tomorrow?”

“You think you’re going to be up for that tomorrow?’ You ask skeptically. “After tonight?”

He hesitates. “Alright, maybe Thursday.”

You burst into laughter and he smiles back at you. “Thursday.” You promise. “Chase’ll be here by then, too. I’m sure he’ll love to come out.”

Matthew looks like a whole new person as he stands up, holding his hand out to help you up. “Great!” He beams, practically lifting you off the sand without any effort from you, a feat that you are very much not thinking about. “Let’s get moving, one day closer to the boat.”

-----

“What’s up?” Matthew asks, as you slip into his side later that night.

Or maybe slip’s not the right word. “Stumble and crash” into his side might be a better description. It’s late now, after all, and you’ve been drinking pretty steadily all night.

“Nora’s trying to set me up with Alex’s friend.” You complain, leaning further into his side as you see said friend approaching you from over his shoulder. “So she’s not ‘alone here’ anymore.”

Matthew’s arm wraps around you tightly. “And you don’t want to hook up with Alex’s friend?”

“No!” You stress, grabbing his cheek and pulling his face in your direction. “Lemme make this clear. No.” You repeat.

Matthew’s laughing, but whether it’s from your vehemence or your drunkenness, you aren’t sure. “Well, he’s still coming over here.” He laughs again, but this time it’s definitely from the look of panic on your face. “Come on, we’ll go grab you a new drink.”

“Life saver.” You tell him, bumping your head against his shoulder and almost immediately reaching for his hand when you start walking to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

“Ugh.” He complains. “That’s the worst candy.” And that’s how you know he might not be as drunk as you but he’s definitely had at least a few. “Can’t I be, like, a Reese’s?”

“Nope.” You’re fighting back a grin, knowing exactly what your next words are going to do to him. “Butterscotch lifesaver.” He fake-gags and you giggle, the reaction exactly what you’d hoped for.

“Even worse!” He shakes his head. “I’m the candy you ignore at your Grandma’s house.”

“We can’t all be Werther’s caramels and Andes mints.” You reason with him.

He turns toward you, full cup of beer in hand, and you reach out for it, but he flicks your nose gently. “You can get your own beer.” He says, grinning. “Butterscotch lifesaver, my ass.”

“Hey!” You’re unable to stop the laughter, even as you look at him in protest. “At least I didn’t call you a strawberry bon bon.”

Matthew acknowledges that with a head tilt and by passing you the beer, before reaching for a new one for himself. “Brady.” You both say at the same time, and then exchange a secret grin.

“It’s the cheeks.” You point at your own. “Always just a li’l cute and red.”

Matthew laughs. “Oh, I’m telling him you said that.”

You’re back to leaning close to him, hand in his as the two of you try and navigate the crowd again. “Don’t you dare.”

“Strawberry bon bon!” He calls loudly, as you laugh and do your best to shove at him with your shoulder. “Where you at?”

“You’re an asshole.” You laugh.

He only grins at that, because he can definitely hear the fondness in your voice. “Not the first time I’ve heard that one, babe.”

“Not the last time either.” You chirp back.

“Nah.” He laughs. “Probably not.”

Matthew’s lost his good spot by the bonfire by the time you two return so you keep walking and talking, mostly about your brother now and the new girl he’s supposedly bringing with him when he comes into town tomorrow. It’s a nice night tonight, the heat’s kind of broken after a thunderstorm earlier in the afternoon, and as the breeze picks up you find yourself leaning further into him and ducking into corners that might block the wind while ignoring the laughter in Matthew’s eyes once he finally starts to notice what’s you’re doing.

It’s in one of these corners that you notice Alex’s friend again, watching you, and you immediately pull Matthew away to a different spot, only to see that same guy again only a few minutes later.

“What’s wrong?”Matthew interrupts his own story when it’s clear to him that you’re not paying any attention to him.

“That stupid friend of Alex is following us!”

He turns to glare, you can already see it forming on his face, but you’ve got a better idea. Maybe it’s the booze that makes you think it’s a great idea, or maybe it’s the late hour, but you reach for his turning face and pull him in for a kiss.

Right away, Matthew responds, pulling you closer, and it’s like this entire summer of the two of you just needing to be right there, right next to each other, this magnetic pull yanking you closer, it all comes together.

It could be minutes, it could be hours when you finally separate. You’re breathing heavily and Matthew is too. “Is-“ You clear your throat. “Is he gone?”

“Who cares?” Matthew asks, and then he pulls you in to kiss you again.

-----

In the morning you wake up still a little dizzy, but whether it’s from the alcohol or the rush of the memory of hooking up with Matthew, you can’t really tell.

You meet him between your houses for a run just like any other morning anyway.

“Wasn’t really sure about this run today.” You tell Matthew, as you see him waiting for you at the bottom of the driveway.

He cracks up. “What, do I make you that sick now?”

“Not just you.” You say, stomach a little queasy as you start to run.

He must see it on your face because he starts to laugh. “I’ll buy you a gatorade if you can make it to the gas station.”

“I might not.” You tell him. “Buy me one anyway please.”

He does. Your favorite flavor even. And then he sips on his own with you slowly as you walk back toward the beach.

“When’s Chase getting in today?”

You shrug. Chase runs on his own time. “Dinner, maybe?”

“Have you met the new girlfriend yet?”

You shake your head. “She sounds nice though. More than I can say about the last one.”

Matthew looks over, interested. “What happened with the last one?”

You burst into laughter. Oh man, that’s a story.

It’s easy to launch into the drama of Chase and Danielle as the two of you sit there on the beach with your Gatorade’s, sun just on the right side of beating down on you, not quite hot enough yet to be too much.

Matthew’s laughing by the end of it; it’s hard not to. “I don’t know if I am hoping for less drama.” He says and you glare at him. “It’d be nice to get some entertainment in.”

“I’ll find some other way to entertain you, I promise.” You say dryly.

“Oh now there’s a deal I can get behind.” He grins, eyes sparkling mischievously and you wonder what you’ve just gotten yourself into.

-----

Chase pulls his car into the driveway as your dad is pouring drinks for happy hour and you abandon your drink on the table in favor of throwing yourself at your brother.

He makes like he’s not going to catch you but at the last minute, he lifts you up and squeezes you tightly. “Ah, missed you, squirt.” You stick your tongue out at him-at that detested nickname mostly-and he laughs. “This is Hayley.”

“Hi!” She beams. “It’s so great to meet you; I’ve heard so much about you!”

You side-eye your brother. “It’s all lies.”

She laughs right away. “Yeah, I’ve got one of those too.”

Immediately you smile, linking arms with her as you pull her into the house, leaving your brother to get their bags. “I’m so excited to meet you!”

“Any help?” Chase calls to you.

You both ignore him.

——-

Outside.

You know what that means, and you go out to the balcony to see Matthew waiting below.

“Well?” He calls up to you. “How’d it go?”

“I love her.” You tell him, already reaching for the trellis against the siding to climb down to him, waiting in the garden. “She’s amazing. If he doesn’t marry her, I’m going to riot.”

He laughs, arms still up to steady you in your descent; it doesn’t happen often, but a fall or two has been known to occur. “You’ve met her once.”

“Don’t care.” You tell him stubbornly. “She’s a keeper. Where are we going?”

He shrugs. “Wherever you want to go. I just wanted the gossip.”

“You’ll see her tomorrow, they’re both coming on the boat with us.” You start walking toward the beach.

His entire face lights up. “Boat day!”

“What, did you forget already?” You tease.

“Just excited.” Matthew says and you can feel his excitement, he’s practically vibrating with it.

“What am I going to do with you?” You ask, shaking your head.

He laughs. “Listen, somebody’s gotta keep me entertained, shouldn’t have volunteered for the job when we were six if you didn’t want to be stuck with it when we’re 24.”

“You’re right, didn’t think that one through.” You say dramatically, dramatic enough for him to gently shove your shoulders toward the water. The waves crash on your shoes, but at least he doesn’t send you into the water. “Hey!”

“Oh sorry,” Matthew says mildly, which should have been a big hint. “My mistake.”

“Yeah, it-“ Next thing you know, he’s lifting you up and walking straight into the ocean. “You asshole!” You cry, the sentiment lost entirely over your laughter as you attempt to clutch at his shoulders, knowing he’s going to drop you as soon as he’s deep enough.

He ducks under a wave instead, your arms still wrapped around his neck and you emerge sputtering and laughing.

“You asshole!” You repeat, but he’s grinning back at you and you know you’re going to kiss him back before he’s even kissed you.

-----

Chase was more than happy when you’d mentioned that Matthew wanted to bring the boat out on his first full day in town. It was Hayley that had looked a little doubtful when it came up, mentioning she hadn’t been out on a boat before, let alone done any of the water sports you were talking about.

She’d been game to come out with you all though, just told you and your brother not to expect any promises about any water sports.

“You’re going to love the boat.” Chase had said at dinner, when you were talking about it. “Promise.”

He was right. It hadn’t taken long for her to relax in one of the seats and even less time from that for Brady and Taryn to get her out tubing.

It was Matthew’s turn driving and he’d motioned a moment ago for a new beer, which you’d pretended to ignore for a solid minute until he’d called you out on it.

“Finally!” He teases, as you pass him a can in a koozy. “What’s the driver got to do to get a beer up here?”

“Not get sand in every crevice imaginable.” You deadpan and he laughs. “Next time, let's at least put a towel down.”

“Oh so there’s going to be a next time?” Matthew grins and you pause. The words had just come out of your mouth, but neither of you had ever said anything about what you’ve done up until now or what you might be going forward.

“Play your cards right and there might be.” You say finally, settling down on the seat near him.

He winks.

-----

“Hello?” Your mom calls out to announce your family’s arrival, as you all follow her into the Tkachuk’s back patio. “We’re here!”

Chantal immediately leaves Keith alone at the grill and the relief on his face is clear. Matthew is standing right next to him, laughing as he passes back over a beer, but once his mom calls him and his siblings over to say hello, he dutifully follows her tracks.

He pulls you in for a hug as he’s making his rounds and if it feels like he holds you longer than anyone else, that’s definitely your imagination, right?

It must be. He moves right on to Chase and Hayley after that and you’re left with Brady. “Where’s Melissa?” You ask innocently.

“Sh!” He hushes you immediately, looking over to his mom quickly as you laugh, patting his arm.

“Sure, babe.” You tease. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” Matthew appears at your side.

“Mom’s birthday present.” Brady lies smoothly, before going off to get himself a drink from the cooler.

Matthew looks over at you as soon as he leaves. “Melissa.” You whisper to him conspiratorially.

“Ah.” He nods, fighting back a smile.

“I did notice she didn’t come out on the boat yesterday.” You admit, but you hadn’t really thought to ask about it. “I just didn’t realize he was keeping it down low.”

He shrugs, leading you over to the beer cooler. “I give it two weeks before he brings her home. I know he likes her and my mom’s suspicious.”

You laugh, accepting the beer he hands you. “Classic Chantal.”

“She’s been in her element this summer.” He agrees.

“She just likes having the whole family around.” You say. Your mom’s been excited about your brother being here since he told her what dates he could come back.

“Speaking of the whole family,” Matthew says. “Did you get roped into golf tomorrow?”

You nod. “Poor Hayley. Doesn’t know what she got herself into when she said she liked to golf.”

“What happens first?” He proposes. “Big Walt claims the whole thing is rigged or Magic Steve whiffs on a shot.”

“If Magic Steve makes it to the eighth hole without whiffing on a shot, I’ll give you a hundred bucks.” You say. “Two hundred bucks. Anything you want. It’s not going to happen.”

Matthew grins and his eyes light up mischievously. “Anything I want, eh? Alright deal.”

What have you gotten yourself into?

——-

Stomach full, plate empty, and a little drowsy, you find yourself leaning into Matthew on the couch you’re sharing with him and Taryn.

Around you the rest of your families are in similar states and no one seems like they’re in a rush to clean up. The discussion is light but loud, a staple for your families, always having to shout over one another to be heard anytime you all get together, which is probably how your mom and Chantal get away with whispering to each other for so long.

“What are you two up to over there?” Keith asks, finally catching onto them.

“Yeah, that’s never anything good.” Your dad tacks on teasingly.

“Nothing.” Your mom says, but it’s entirely unconvincing and everyone immediately latches onto it.

“It was!” Chantal insists finally. “We were just talking about those two.” She gestures over to you and Matthew.

“Us?” You repeat.

Your mom nods. “You two and the big summer Cape wedding we’d always dreamed about.”

“Hah!” Brady’s laughing, like the idea of you and Matthew getting married is the most absurd thing he’s ever heard, before your mom is even finished speaking.

“Those two?” Chase is right there with him.

“Well we know better now!” Chantal says. “I could only be so lucky for Matthew to bring home a girl this nice!”

“Hey!” Matthew protests next to you, but you’re laughing right along with everyone else.

“When one says hello to me, I’ll take it back.” She counters.

He hesitates. “Alright, that’s fair.”

She laughs. “Damn right.”

“Were you really planning our wedding?” You ask them.

“We planned it when you were ten.” Your mom informs you and everyone laughs. “The bridesmaids wore sage, but it has become abundantly clear that wedding will never happen.”

“I mean, we were ten.” You say. “So that wedding was probably never going to happen anyway.”

“Listen, mothers can dream.” Your mom replies.

“And that was a good one.” Chantal adds.

“Don’t worry.” Your dad says reassuringly to Matthew. “I’m sure whatever girl finally says hello to her will be just as good. The bar is pretty low.”

It’s a joke, a pretty good one even, that everyone laughs at, but you and Matthew exchange a brief look, joining in a beat late.

-----

Matthew’s waiting outside your window when you start climbing down the trellis, ready to steady your descent if needed, just like you knew he would be.

When you overestimate the last step, he grabs you, hands remaining on your hips even after he steadies you.

“Interesting dinner tonight.” You say carefully. Your moms’ words have been drifting in and out of your thoughts since they came up.

Matthew hums as his fingers slide up your side. “Yeah?”

You fight back a gasp as one of his thumbs brushes the underside of your breast. “You don’t think so?”

He smirks and you know you were unsuccessful in holding back your gasp, at least completely. “Oh I thought so.”

“Jerk.” You lean forward to kiss him, but he’s already right there, and for a while, you lose yourself in Matthew. His mouth. The heat of the summer night and how easy it is to just fall into this each time.

When you both pull away, breathing heavy but smiling, neither one of you actually moves away. “Tomorrow?” Matthew asks, thumb still brushing the skin at your hip.

“Again?” You ask, kind of surprised, as you look meaningfully between the two of you.

He shrugs. “Why not?”

“Because our moms just married us off at dinner a few hours ago?” You deadpan.

He laughs. “Well we haven’t said anything to them yet. Why change what’s worked?”

You pull a face at him- why would you have said anything to them yet?- and he laughs. He’s not wrong though. What has to change about what you’ve been doing? Because your moms made a joke?

You stick your pinky out to him, like when you were kids, a promise to keep secrets from your parents or siblings that would always end up getting you two in trouble. “Easy breezy.” You say.

Matthew loops his pinky around yours. “Easy breezy.” He agrees, and it feels like every promise you ever made with each other.

-----

Nora appears on the beach with the rest of you, sometime around noon, with a fresh cooler of drinks and some snacks, and takes her roast accordingly.

“You’re alive!” Bri cries dramatically, stealing a fresh White Claw. “Ohh, mango!”

“Ew.” Ethan shakes his head at her, shifting his chair over to make room for Nora. “Mango? C’mon, Nor, you find a boy for a week and you forget the good flavors?”

“Don’t you fucking dare give me shit right now when the next words out of your mouth are about to be lime.” Nora says and you pull your eyes away from watching Matthew playing Kan Jam long enough to laugh.

“Should we set the over under now?” You tease. “Or later, once their game is done?”

“What over under?” Nora asks.

“Wait until the game’s done.” Bri says. “Gimme some time to think.”

“I think that’s cheating.” Ethan counters.

“If you ain’t cheating, you ain’t trying.” Bri grins, leaning back into her chair more.

“What over under?” Nora demands.

“How long you’ll be gracing us with your presence.” Bri finally tells her and it’s worth it for the look on Nora’s face.

-----

“Beerdie tonight?” Matthew asks on your run the following morning.

“Shotty Taryn.” You grin at the look of outrage on his face and then sprint off ahead so he can’t catch up.

He does though, but by that point, you’re both far enough away from your parents’ houses that when he does, he captures you by the waist and pulls you in for a kiss.

“Mmm, not getting a workout in like this.” You tease, when you break the kiss.

He waggles his eyebrows. “I can think of another way we can get a workout in.”

You bust out laughing. It’s just such a lame line, you can’t help yourself. “Oh yeah? Where at?”

Turns out that trellis outside your room can hold Matthew just as well as you.

“Beach today?” You ask him afterwards. He’s still lounging in your bed as you move around your room, looking for the bottom to your bathing suit.

He pulls a face. “I guess.”

You laugh. “Boat tomorrow?”

That lights him up and serves to get him moving, just as you find your bottom and slip into it. “And just as I was enjoying the view.” He jokes, slipping past you with a playful pat on the ass and a kiss.

“Tragic.” You tell him, sarcasm clear. “What are you-” You stop yourself as you hear your mom’s voice getting louder and you watch Matthew’s eyes widen, sure that your face must be mirroring his.

Neither of you moves as her footsteps grow louder, her voice carrying her side of the conversation through the hall.

And then, the sound of the door shutting, and muffled silence. She must be getting ready for the day.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, watching Matthew do the same. “I’ll see you soon.” You tell him, walking the few feet with him over to the trellis.

He grins; it’s somehow just as carefree as it was a few moments ago. “Looking forward to it. Bring beer.”

“Ugh it’s my turn, isn’t it?”

He grins, poised to climb down the trellis. “Yup.”

“Fuck.” You scrunch your face up. One more thing to remember. “You going to be okay to climb down that?”

But he’s already at the bottom, looking up at you with a mischievous grin, and for the first time this summer, you realize you may be in trouble.

-----

“No.” Jake shakes his head, when Nora suggests heading to a party of one of her friends on the other side of the Cape. “No. Too far.”

She huffs at him. “Well then what do you want to do?”

“Can we just go to the bar?” He asks, almost pleadingly. “For God’s sake, we spent years dying to get into one and now that we all can, we haven’t been once.”

“Thank you!” Matthew cries. “I thought nobody was going to say it.”

“Why didn’t you say it?” You ask him.

“I-” He trails off and you grin at him, laughing when he just flips you off.

“Alright then.” Jake nods, like everything’s settled. “9pm, to the bars.”

“9?” Nora cries in disbelief, but she’s ready by 9:10, which is basically a record for her.

Jake has laid out a whole plan for the night, a crawl through the town bars, but once you make it into the first one, you’re pretty sure that none of you are making it to his second stop.

Bri drags you and Nora out on the dance floor the second you get drinks and you lose yourself there for a while, or at least until your drink is empty. You ditch the girls for a refill, shimmeying your way through the crowd up to Ethan, Brady, and Melissa at the bar to place your order.

“Where’s your brother?” You ask and Brady rolls his eyes.

“Over there.” He points. “Being his usual…” But you don’t hear the rest of his sentence, too focused on the girls Matthew and Jake are talking with. Or more specifically, the girl Matthew’s talking with, the one who’s looking up at him while she twirls her hair and laughs at whatever he just said.

Matthew’s allowed to do whatever he wants. You just talked about this. And, maybe more importantly, if you want to keep this thing between the two of you quiet, he should go off and do whatever he wants.

And you should too.

But judging by the sinking feeling in your stomach, the only thing you want is on the other side of the bar, talking with a pretty blonde.

When the bartender returns with your drink, you rush back to Bri and Nora, eager to try and forget what’s happening behind you. But you just don’t have it in you when a few guys approach the three of you and after one song, you find yourself back at the bar with Ethan, Brady, and Melissa for another round, unsure if you’re happy or not when you realize you can no longer see Matthew from where you’re standing.

“Gonna head home.” Ethan says, after he finishes his drink.

“Oh, I’ll come!” You down the last bit of your own.

He gives you a look. “You sure?”

“Mhm.” You nod, hugging Brady and Melissa goodbye. “Exhausted. Ready for bed.”

Ethan laughs as he holds the door open for you. “A college graduate and suddenly you’re an old lady. Ready for bed by 11?”

“Grandma status.” You laugh along with him, keeping the joke running as you wait for your Uber, so he won’t press any further, and it’s only much later that you realize how strange it is for him to be leaving so early.

-----

“Where’d you go last night?” Matthew asks, when you meet for your morning run. “I looked for you when I was leaving, Brady said you’d already left.”

You try to hide your surprise. You’d really just assumed he’d gone home-or at least gone somewhere- with that girl last night. “I left with E.” You’ve never seen his head move as fast as it turns toward you at that. “Whiplash much?” You laugh. “He was leaving so I left too. I was tired.”

Matthew shakes his head. “Yeah, uh-” He shakes it again. In past years, that would have sent his curls flying in all different directions; this year, his hair’s too short for anything like that. It’s a good look for him. “Yeah, no, I just didn’t see you leave.”

You purse your lips, fighting back a frown. “Guess you just weren’t looking.” You shrug.

“Doubt it.” He mutters, or at least you think that’s what he says, because he changes the subject before you can ask.

-----

A few days later, a round of storms roll in, and by lunchtime your mom is shooing you out of the house. “But it’s raining.” You whine at her. “What can I even do?”

“Are you 22 years old or not?” She frowns, guiding you away from the tile and cabinet samples. “How did you entertain yourself at school?”

“I literally didn’t, I was never alone!”

“Well you don’t have to be now either!” She smiles at you. “You go next door; send Chantal over here for some peace and quiet.”

Chantal is more than happy to trade places with you when you arrive, stopping only long enough to grab a bottle of wine for her and your mom to split, and you laugh as you close the door behind her, before looking for Matthew.

He’s not hard to find, the sound of him and his siblings quickly coming up from the basement as you start walking in the house.

“Fuck yeah!” Matthew grins when he sees you. Brady and Taryn are, as usual, ganging up against him in bubble hockey. “Let’s go, right here, come on.”

In classic older brother fashion, Matthew resets the score to zero once you get settled in your spot and he assigns you your handles, completely ignoring his siblings’ protests about how they were winning (and handily). And then, with an extra set of hands, he (and you) begin to dominate.

In public, both Matthew and Brady are gracious winners and losers. There’s light trash talk and playful teasing before their games and hugs and catching up afterwards.

But in private? They go cutthroat.

So it quickly devolves into Matthew against Brady while you and Taryn watch and giggle from the side, occasionally calling out comments of your own and then laughing again at the snide looks they send you in return.

It’s not long before Matthew’s celebrating his victory-loudly and uninhibited- and Brady’s rolling his eyes, and wandering off upstairs.

“God, you’re annoying.” Taryn says.

Matthew ruffles her hair and she scrunches her nose at him. “Part of my charm.”

“Mm.” She hums. “You tell yourself that.” And then she’s heading upstairs as well, leaving just you and Matthew behind.

“Well at least one of you thinks I’m charming.” Matthew grins at you.

“Oh.” You pull a face at him. “I don’t remember ever saying that.”

Matthew’s tackling you onto the couch practically before you finish speaking, kissing the laughter right out of you. It’s easy to get lost the same way you have been the last few weeks, when he’s pressing you into the couch, lips moving over yours, warm palm spread over bare skin.

It’s only when you feel like the entire world is spinning and you’re dizzy enough to pass out from it that you pull away. Everything settles a little, but still you feel caught in Matthew’s orbit, a feeling that you’ve noticed happening more and more often. Matthew’s thumb brushes against your ribcage, breathing heavily, and it’s only when he moves back in to kiss you again that you notice it’s both of you, barely able to catch your breath but still ducking in for more.

“Matth-” You try to breathe. It doesn’t do much good as Matthew just moves to kissing down your jaw. “Your siblings.”

“They won’t come down again.” He says, almost absentmindedly, clearly more focused on other things.

“They-” You start to say, but he shuts you up pretty quickly and luckily, he ends up not being wrong.

-----

“That’s what you wear?” Matthew mutters to you, almost too low. You have to strain to hear him over the wind, from where the two of you are sitting in the front of the boat, shoved there by your mom when Chase and Hayley had showed up unexpectedly a day early for Fourth of July week, a week traditionally filled with outings on the boat, barbecues, and family competition.

You look down. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

He stares at you in disbelief. “We’re out here on a family boat day. And that’s what you show up in? Are you trying to kill me?”

You laugh. “Depends on what you left me in your will.”

He chuckles. “What I leave you in the will? You’ve been getting me into trouble since we were six years old and you think I’m leaving you anything in my will?”

You bust out laughing. “I’ve been getting you into trouble since we were six? Reverse that there, buddy.”

But Matthew’s shaking his head the entire time, fondly smiling like you’re missing the point entirely.

-----

Selection night for the Beach Olympics takes place on a Sunday, as it always does, but this time it’s about ten times rowdier than it ever has been, with almost all of the kids being legal to drink and Taryn hiding the seltzer that Brady snuck her in a Sprite can

Keith holds his hat up high, filled with paper slips with numbers written on them. “Who’d like to go first?”

“I think as last winners, it’s our right!” Chase says and then gestures Chantal forward to pick before him.

The look on their faces as they draw their numbers, pleading to get the same again, and then revealing different ones is hilarious, but you barely have time to laugh at their reactions (Chantal’s face falling and Chase letting out a loud “Fuck!”) before it’s your turn.

Your “5” doesn’t match either your brother’s “2” or Chantal’s “3” so you watch as the hat makes its way around pairing everyone up, until finally Matthew makes his choice and when his face lights up just before he meets your eyes, you don’t even need him to show your families the little slip he’s pulled to know that he’s got your matching “5.”

“Unfair!” Brady cries, even as he already sits next to his mom, his Beach Olympic partner for the next week, and she shoves him off the stool he’s sitting on. “What?” He looks at her. “C’mon!”

“Talk to me when you’re a Beach Olympic champion.” She says, purposefully adopting a haughty tone and you all laugh, as Taryn begins prepping the tiny toy flags.

Matthew moves next to you, nudging your side and grinning throughout the draft of countries. It’s hard to stifle your giggles, both of you laughing the entire time, the last team to draft, and watching as Taryn and your mom select Spain (because of the wine your mom was drinking currently), allowing Chase and your dad to snatch America up. Brady and Chantal select Canada, to no one’s surprise, and then Keith and Hayley pick Italy.

“We’ll be eating pasta only for the rest of the week.” He jokes, reaching for their toy flag, and she laughs but also looks like she’s not sure if he’s kidding or not.

“What do you think?” Matthew whispers to you, nudging your side again. “Mexico? Iceland?”

“The bad guys from Mighty Ducks 2? I don’t think so.” You quote a favorite show of the two of you and he grins immediately.

“Germany.” The two of you say simultaneously. “They’ve never been the bad guys in anything!”

Matthew holds the tiny toy flag about his head as he makes the short walk back over to you and the rest of your families’ groan, but you only laugh, sure that sound is going to become familiar over the next few days.

-----

“C’mon, baby.” Matthew coaches, crouched in a ready position near the Kan Jam bin and it’s just one more day of easy affection, one more pet name falling out of his mouth that you can’t even react to. “Right here, give her to me, nice and easy.”

“You got nothing.” Your dad scoffs. “Weak flex.”

You grin at him, winding up to throw the frisbee; if it hits the can at all before Matt touches it, you and Matthew will lose points and that just won’t do.

You release the frisbee, watching it arc and following Matthew’s eyes. He lunges once it gets close, throwing himself onto the sand to smack the frisbee into the can.

You cheer, loudly, as he hits it against the side and then the frisbee lands on the sand.

Matthew’s whooping, just as loud, and running to meet you in the middle with his arms open, ready to catch you as you leap into his arms. He catches you when you jump up, spinning around a few times, and still cheering.

“Ugh.” Your brother shakes his head. “This is just annoying now.”

“How are you this in sync?” Brady agrees.

You shrug as Matthew puts you back on the ground, but you don’t wander far from him. You haven’t all week, your partnership for the week a convenient excuse to have to be close to him…not that you really want to be apart from him.

And all the time you’ve been spending together this summer has definitely been beneficial for your chemistry. Brady wasn’t wrong. You and Matthew had always been a pretty good team, your years of friendship translating well into team games, but now? This week you seemed unstoppable, midway through the week and already collecting a first or second place medal in every event so far.

Puting you well in first place for the week, with each game the two of you only looking better and better. It was quickly driving your families’ nuts.

“Just the dream team, baby.” Matthew grins, finally answering his brother, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you when he says it, so it’s hard not to think that he’s talking to you and even harder to avoid the flutter in your stomach when he says baby.

No one else is looking at you this time, at least. They can’t see if you blush.

-----

For the fourth time this week, you say goodnight to your parents, go upstairs, and immediately climb down the trellis to the garden to meet Matthew.

“This feels ridiculous.” You complain to him, even as you feel the rush of seeing him, the thrill of this thing between only you. “I feel like we’re sixteen again and sneaking off to go drink at a party we’re not supposed to be at.”

“Doesn’t the secret make it kind of fun?” He asks, but only after he kisses you, which is definitely unfair. You had a point to make, but it’s gone entirely.

What’s that saying about secrets? Secrets are no fun...you can’t remember the rest anyway. “Easy breezy.” Instead, you echo your last promise, because that you can remember, made from this same spot, and Matthew links your pinky’s together at your sides as he moves in for another kiss.

-----

Closing ceremonies for the Beach Olympics takes place out on the boat, as usual, and you stand smugly between Brady and your dad, with a bottle of champagne and a smirk on your face.

“Show off.” Your dad says, shaking his head. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s unbecoming to brag like that?”

“Like this?” You bite one of the-many-fake medals hanging around your neck, far more than anyone else on the boat...except Matthew, that is.

Brady groans. “Fuck off.” He whines, definitely still bitter about his loss at bocce.

But whatever he and your dad say next is lost to you, because Matthew’s caught your eye. He’d seen you joking with your dad, apparently, because he’s grinning when he catches your eye and then lifts one of his medals up to mimic what you’ve just done.

It’s hard not to laugh, feeling such fondness for him deep in your chest that it hurts almost, even as your dad and his brother look at you like you’re crazy, because he’s back to talking with his mom and looking completely normal by the time they turn around.

“What?” Brady presses again.

“It’s.-” You shake your head, because this feeling is so familiar but you just can’t place it. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

It’s just another thing between you and Matthew.

-----

“You got sand in my hair.” You groan, fixing your shirt as you sit up, reaching for one of the bottles of champagne you’d been sipping on since the celebration with your families earlier in the evening.

“Sorry.” Matthew says dryly. “Did you want to be on top next time?” You pull a face and he laughs, like he already knew the answer to that. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Not on the beach.” You shove his shoulder. “We’ve talked about this.”

“I can track you down a bed.” He says thoughtfully.

“Fuck off.” You pull the champagne away from him, laughing. “Ass.”

He waggles his eyebrows playfully. “Oh, that’s on the table?”

“Oh my god!” You groan, but you’re still laughing. “I hate you so much.”

“Nah.” Matthew says confidently, and you can’t look away from him as he says, “You love me.”

You love me. It rings in your head as he steals the champagne bottle from you, and again as he helps you stand up, brushing the sand from your legs. It’s still echoing as the two of you walk back towards your houses, as Matthew sneaks into the garden with you, and helps you begin your climb up the trellis.

It’s stuck in your head the entire climb up, it’s there as you turn back to face him, it’s there as you watch him smile back up at you now that he’s sure you made it to the top, and it’s there as you wave goodnight to each other and he starts walking back home.

“I’m fucking in love with you.” You realize out loud and Matthew turns, grinning up at you.

“What was that?” He calls back.

“Nothing.” You call back helplessly. “Nothing at all.” You repeat to yourself, turning away from him to go into your room before he sees the look on your face.

-----

Almost immediately following that realization, Matthew announces to you on your run he’ll be going to Toronto soon for a few days for a camp.

“Oh.” You say, kind of relieved. A few days to collect your thoughts and feelings actually sounds...nice. “When do you leave?”

“Not until Thursday.” He frowns. “And Big Walt and Chantal are even away at a wedding this weekend. Damn it, we could have had a bed.”

“Anal’s still not on the table.” You deadpan and he laughs so hard he has to stop running.

“Anything you want.” He promises, when he can finally stand up fully again and start running. “We’ve been good; nothing needs to change.”

It’s not until later that night, when you’re at the bar with all your friends, and Ethan and you are hanging at one end of the bar while Matthew and Jake are again out around the floor making the rounds, that you realize why that statement irked you.

You want something to change.

-----

“Are you okay?” Bri gives you a look

It’s been a few days since realizing this casual, friends with benefits, “easy breezy” thing with Matthew wasn’t enough. And despite that, you’d done nothing different. You’d woken up each morning the same as every other one this summer to meet him for a run, ducking off the side of the path for kisses and then slipping away as he chases after you. Afternoons on the beach, sneaking glances through your sunglasses, pretending you don’t see him looking back at you, hoping your friends think the flush of your cheeks is from the sun and not recognizing it for the blush that it actually is. Pretending you were meeting friends at night when you were meeting Matthew instead, sneaking back in through the gate, like you were 16 again and trying not to wake your dad as you crept back in the house drunk off whatever cheap beer you could get your hands on (entirely different from how you stumble back home now, still drunk off whatever attention Matthew will give you, head still woozy with every kiss he pressed to your lips and the words he muttered to you between them).

“No, seriously.” She continues. “Are you okay?”

“Yup.” You giggle, reaching for your drink again. “Why?”

“I just haven’t seen you drink like this, I don’t know, maybe all summer?” She says.

Your jaw drops, outraged. “That’s not fair!” You cry. “I’ve had plenty to drink this summer! So many hangovers!”

“That...that’s not what I said at all.” She rubs her temples. “You just haven’t been drinking at this pace all summer.”

“I’m fine.” You tell her and she gives you a look as she pushes a cup of water toward you. “See?” You drain the entire cup and stick your tongue at her. “Fine.”

She laughs fondly, picking up her own drink. “If you say so, babe. Back to dancing?”

“Good 4 u!” You cry in excitement, leading her away from the bar, throwing your joined hands up in the air as you do.

“No, they’ve already played-” Bri shakes her head. “Nope, not worth it.”

Nora’s right where the two of you left her on the dance floor- with her boy of the week, who’s name you could not remember if your life depended on it. You last another song or two, begging Bri to let you go up and request your newest favorite song and being denied each time, before you get bored again, and wander off in search of your other friends.

“Whastsa matter with you?” You frown, poking at Ethan’s sour face.

Brady pulls his head away from whispering to Melissa just long enough to say, “He’s just been sitting here being a grinch all night.”

You swipe the untouched drink in front of Ethan away from him for yourself, giggling as he doesn’t even attempt to stop you. “Christmas in July isn’t until next week, silly!”

That gets Ethan to crack a smile, finally, as he laughs at you. “What?” He grins again, before his face falls back into a frown.

You frown, turning unsubtly to follow his eyes but you can’t see anything worth frowning about. You wave when you see Nora and she laughs, waving back, and only when you wave back even more ridiculously do you turn back to the table.

“Cheer up buddy.” Brady’s saying when you do, even as Melissa rolls her eyes. “They’ll be back soon. Those girls aren’t going home with them.”

Your breath catches in your throat, as you whip back around, missing Ethan’s response entirely. But sure thing, there’s enough of a cut in the crowd to see now, there’s Jake and Matthew with those girls. The same ones they’ve been chatting up every time you’ve been to this bar all summer. Right away, your thoughts are racing about what Jake and Matthew could have been doing with these girls all night long, while you were sure to keep your distance from him.

Well, specifically, what Matthew has been doing with the girl while you were staying away from him so no one could see the feelings written all over your face. The one you see laughing at all his jokes when the four of them are talking together, with ridiculous eyelashes that she bats up at him, and an equally crazy body that absolutely no one should be able to attain.

“Hey.” Melissa says quietly, studying your face, and it feels like she’s been doing that to all of you all summer, watching you to get a better sense of who you all are and where she fits. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Just time for another drink, I think. I’ll be back.”

You’re off to the bar before she can even follow, before one of the boys notices you’re missing, and it’s only when you’re crowded in between a dozen strangers trying to get the attention of the bartender do you feel like you can breathe again.

-----

“It’s time to go!” Bri tugs on your arm gently. “Come on, babe!”

“No.” You whine, dragging out the word. “I’m-” You hiccup. “-having fun.”

She looks at you in disbelief. “Flagged. Let’s go.”

“No!” You whine again. “All my friends are here.”

“All your friends are leaving.” Ethan says gently. “We’re right here.”

“They’re not!” You look over your shoulder wildly for Matthew, eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. “They’re not leaving!”

“We are!” Bri sighs. “Even Nora’s leaving. See,” She turns your head. “She’s waving!”

“But-“ You wave back slowly. “That’s-“

“Everybody’s leaving.” Bri continues. “Or they’re already gone.” You feel numb as she takes your hand to pull you out of the bar, toward the Uber that Ethan has called. Their mindless chatter rolls over you as Bri’s words echo in your head and you leap to a place you don’t want to be in. That everyone else was already gone. That Matthew was already gone and that he left without saying goodbye.

The tears are rolling down your face before you even know what’s happening and suddenly you can’t stop. You’re hiccuping in the back of the Uber, crying huge crocodile tears that just keep rolling down your cheeks.

“Oh babe.” Bri says sympathetically, as the Uber driver looks back at you in the mirror skeptically.

“What’s wrong?” Jake frowns, looking over at you.

“I’m fine!” You sob.

“You’re crying in an Uber, sure, yeah, that’s what people who are notoriously fine do.” Ethan says dryly.

“Not helping.” Bri hisses to him, rubbing your back gently.

“I’m fine.” You sob again, even though he’s right, and it couldn’t be further from the truth.

-----

Midway through your run on the morning of the day Matthew is leaving for the weekend, he makes an abrupt turn off your usual path and continues running.

“Matthew!” You shout after him, stopped at the corner.

“Are you coming?” He calls back, not stopping his jog to look back at you.

You huff, but then take off after him, practically sprinting to catch up, and then having to ease back into a jog when he doesn’t pick up the pace. You have no idea what his plan is, why he turned off your usual route, or why he decided to go down this road instead of following your usual path to lead to the beaches between your houses, and he’s giving you no hints, so you’re stuck following him at this almost leisurely pace.

He turns again, almost cutting you off, and then again, almost losing you when he cuts abruptly through a spot in some tall grass, leading finally to a very long wooden dock. You can’t even see where it leads to when you climb the steps up, but you follow him dutifully, slowing to a walk as he does the same. “Where are we going?” You ask again, falling into step with him, on the boards just wide enough for the two of you, the long path crossing over shrubbery and small pockets of salt water.

“Just wait a sec.” Matthew chides playfully. “You’ll see in a minute.”

“Ugh.” You whine, never patient enough, and he laughs, bumping your shoulder.

“It’ll be worth it.” He promises.

“Big promises.” You tease haughtily, but you’re eating those words as soon as you reach the end of the pier.

There’s a few steps to actually get down to the beach but you stop right at the edge of them, taking in the view in front of you The beach itself is empty, unsurprising maybe, for what you had to do to get here, but it’s peaceful- just you and Matthew, standing maybe a little too close but neither of you doing anything about it. To the left, the beach thins for a bit, the ocean spanning an endless stretch. To the right, off in the distance, your houses, on the horizon with some other familiar landmarks.

“How’d you find this?” You ask, stuck between being breathless and grinning. The view is amazing but more than that; something about being in this place, with Matthew, standing with your shoulders brushing against each other just feels special.

Fuck, it’s literally just a beach with a different view of your houses; you need to get this feelings shit under control.

“Brady and I found it years ago.” Matthew smiles softly, like it’s a fond memory. “Before it was all overgrown like that.”

“I like it.” You say, and then clarify. “The overgrown. It’s kinda cool.”

“A little character.” Matthew agrees.

“More private too, I’m sure.”

“That too.” He smirks, purposefully bumping your shoulder so you laugh, which you do, before the two of you settle into a comfortable silence.

“What time do you leave today?” You ask finally, the question that’s been weighing on you since he even told you he was going.

“Too soon.” He grimaces, looking down at his watch.

“Oh.”

“It’s always too soon.” He says, reaching for your waist and pulling you close.

“Don’t even tell me you’re not packed yet.” You chide, but you’re looping your arms around his neck as you speak and you can see the smirk growing across his face.

“Alright, I won’t.” He says and then he’s kissing you before you can lecture any further.

——-

“What’s wrong with you?” You flop down next to Ethan on the beach a few days later, holding your hand out expectantly for him to pass you a drink.

He takes his sweet time, slowly reaching into the cooler for a White Claw, and eyeing you carefully when he passes it over. “What’s wrong with me? You haven’t stopped moving since your partner in crime left the country for a few days. I could ask you the same thing!”

Your breath catches and your heart starts racing. You swore you’d been so careful this summer, that none of your friends had even noticed an change in either of you. “I’m crimeless.” You babble, playing off the joke. “I’ve had to be good for four whole days now.” You tease, but Ethan’s not even listening anymore, and you follow his eyes to watch Nora fall against another boy of the week after they score a point in volleyball, and you think maybe this isn’t about you at all.

——-

Matthew somehow manages to balance a bottle of Pink Whitney in his hands while climbing up your trellis and onto the balcony.

“You weren’t even going to get up and give me a hand?” He flops down on the bed next to you, nudging for your attention with his shoulder, his elbow, his words.

You hold your Kindle up lamely in his direction. “I’m at a really good part.”

He opens the bottle and holds it out for you to take a swig. “Lame.”

“I guess you don’t want to hear all my gossip then.” You sigh dramatically, already grinning before you even finish your sentence, knowing his reaction.

He doesn’t disappoint. “Gossip?” His ears perk up and he looks over at you, taking the bottle back for his turn. “Details, come on.”

You giggle. “Mmm, I don’t know if I should.” Matthew pokes your side, right in the spot he knows you’re most ticklish. “Stop that!” You slap at his hand.

“Never!” He does it again, then again, and then again, and then he’s rolling on top of you, and both your book and your gossip about Ethan and Nora are long forgotten as he yanks his own shirt off and then yours only a moment after.

——-

Nora’s newest man is having a party on his yacht for a bunch of his friends and she swings you all an invite.

“I’ve made some very wrong decisions in my life.” Melissa says as soon as you, her, Matthew, and Brady arrive, eyeing the yacht, the staff member waiting to greet you, and how Nora is waving eagerly at you from the deck.

“Now’s your time to find an upgrade.” Matthew quips, only barely avoiding spilling the Bellini he was just handed when Brady elbows him in the ribs.

Melissa looks both vaguely horrified and amused, but you, used to their antics, roll your eyes. “If you break that $200,000 vase, you’re going to be sorry.”

“That vase costs $200,000?” Brady lowers his voice as you start to approach the upper deck and the rest of the party, but it doesn’t manage to hide his shock.

“One eighty nine, nine, I think, if you want to get technical, but,” You shrug. You’d seen it last week with your mom when you were out shopping with her for the remodel. “Basically, yeah.”

Brady still hasn’t managed to wipe the look of shock off his face when Nora throws herself at you. She gets you and Matthew in one go, him steadying the three of you as she laughs, definitely already tipsy. “You’re here!” She beams.

“And now I might never leave.” You look around you.

Nora waggles her eyebrows. “That’s fine; Tom’s got a brother.”

You laugh. “Sure, okay. And when you break up with Tom next week and I’m here alone with the brother?”

“You’ll still have a yacht.” Melissa jokes.

“Good point.” You grin at her.

“Nor, where’s the bar?” Matthew interrupts before any of you can make any more jokes about Nora trying to set you up again.

“Right here!” She chirps, leading you all through the crowd to the bar, where Bri and Jake are already posted up. “I’ll be back soon!” She promises, after ordering a drink with you.

“Sure, ok.” Jake rolls his eyes at her and she grins at him before slipping through the crowd.

“No E?” Matthew asks, swirling the ice around his bourbon.

Bri shrugs. “He said he was busy today.”

“Huh.” Matthew says and abruptly you remember you never got a chance to tell him your theory about Ethan and Nora. “He didn’t mention anything yesterday.”

“Probably came up suddenly.” You say and then ask the bartender for a round of shots, because you can relate to loving someone who doesn’t love you back, whether Ethan knows it or not, and there’s a sense of solidarity it gives you.

——-

“Yacht parties fucking rule.” Melissa decides, an hour or two in, definitely tipsy on champagne drinks, and grinning each time someone walks around with trays of snacks.

You laugh. “I fucking love you.” You smack a kiss to her cheek.

She giggles again. “I fucking love you guys too. This has been such a fun summer.”

“Yeah, we’re fun fucking people!” Bri beams, getting a little too excited and spilling the last little bit of her drink. “Oops.”

“It was time for another one anyway.” You assure her and she grins.

“That’s my girl!” She stands, pointing at you and Melissa. “You better be done with those by the time I get back with another round!”

You drain yours before she even turns around. “Ready whenever!”

She cheers and parts the crowd, leaving you and Melissa. “Have you seen the boys lately?” You ask, scanning the crowd.

“They were playing shuffleboard earlier.” She looks behind her. “But I don’t see them now.”

You do. Or well, you see Matthew at least, still at the shuffleboard table, laughing at whatever the beautiful girl next to him just said. She’s one of those girls, the ones that make everyone feel inadequate the second she walks in the room, so of course she’s funny too.

Your stomach twists as Matthew laughs again and it’s not because you’ve had too much to drink. In fact, you think, as your stomach twists again watching Matthew lean in closer to that girl, you’re pretty sure you haven’t had enough to drink.

——-

“Where are we going?” You giggle as Matthew tugs on your hand, leading you down an empty hallway below the main party.

He gives you a look. “Come on, really?” He puts his ear up to a closed door and makes a face; you giggle again, but don’t have much time to follow up about why because he's pulling you down the hall to the next door, listening again, and then pulling you inside. As soon as the door closes, you press against him, not sure who kisses who first, only certain that you need more, more, more of him.

You can’t seem to get close enough to him, even when he lifts you up. Your legs wrap around his waist, hands teasing the ends of the hair that’s just starting to grow out. Matthew’s hands roam, one hand caressing your cheek and then sliding lower down your back and then teasing lightly along your rib cage, like he can’t decide what he wants.

“Been waiting for this all day.” He breathes out, pressing kisses down your jawline. “Can’t get enough of this.”

You nod eagerly. You too. You could have been doing this all day, couldn’t you? What was stopping you?

It’s hard to think as Matthew kisses you again, but you do pause, until his hands reach around to untie your bathing suit top. “Holy shit.” He mutters as it falls to the ground, eyes wide, and as flattering as it is, that moment apart is enough for you to remember why you weren’t doing this earlier.

And how, at the end of the day, you were still in love with someone who didn’t love you back.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You don’t even realize you’ve said anything until Matthew stops, until he’s staring at you in confusion, until he’s stepping away and you have to catch yourself on the door handle.

“Ok yeah-“He babbles. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pull you away-yeah, of course we can stop-we-“

“I don’t-“You start, annoyed he didn’t get it, that this is the one thing he hasn’t been on the same page about all summer, that this is really the one fucking thing you actually have to explain to him; and it feels like tears are coming, but you fight them back. “No, that’s not-This isn’t easy anymore! This isn’t the simple thing we were doing, Matty!”

“I don’t-” Matthew cuts off abruptly, running his fingers through the curls that have just started to grow back. “I don’t want to screw up if we try harder.”

We’re not trying, you want to say. We’ve barely been trying, want to scream. Instead, you reach down and gather your top, tying it back up and leaving him still gaping.

Every day it seems like you fall deeper for him, find something else about him that you want to wrap up and keep close to you, before the memories of this fade away, just as the summer always does, pulling Matthew-and your relationship- away with it.

—--

“You know, you can’t avoid him forever.” Ethan drops down into the chair next to you, and only when you’re sure he’s alone, do you open your eyes from the nap you were pretending to take.

“Avoid who?” You say, too quickly to even feign innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snickers, signaling for you to hand him a drink. “But if I were avoiding someone, I’d say you’d be severely underestimating my ability to commit to the bit.”

He laughs. “Alright, that’s a good point.”

“Should watch out for that glass house, too.” You say, and he takes a minute to press his cold can against your skin as payback before he opens it.

“Alright.” Ethan says finally, almost reluctantly. “I’ll talk if you do.”

You side-eye him, looking to see how serious he is. “Matthew and I have been hooking up all summer, except I’m in love with him and he’s only in it for the fun and games.” You wave the fingers of your free hand around sarcastically. “If it’s not easy breezy fucking Cover Girl…’

Ethan gives you a look. “Do you need another drink?” You do and he waits patiently for you to dig for a new White Claw and open it before saying, “Nora and I hooked up this year at school.” You choke on your new drink, the carbonation going down hard, and Ethan laughs hollowly. “I thought it’d be fine. It was. We’d get here, it’d be like any other summer.” He trails off, but you don’t need him to continue.

You’ve been living it.

“Easy breezy.” You hold your can out for him to cheers against. “Seems so simple.”

“Easy breezy.” He clinks his can against yours.

“Shit.” You see Matthew and Brady walking out of the ocean, still talking and hopefully distracted enough still to notice you still. “Gotta go.”

Ethan’s cackle might have given you away though. That, or the one flip flop you left behind in your haste to get away in time.

——-

You manage to successfully avoid Matthew for four days before he takes the matter into his own hands.

It’s not long after dinner, another burger night at the club with your parents where even they had commented on how they haven’t seen him for a few days, a conversation that made you want to crawl under the table and die, but instead only left you just on the wrong side of tipsy.

Maybe it’s because of that that Matthew tumbling into your room via the trellis comes as such a surprise.

“Jesus Christ!” You gasp, climbing out of bed to run over to him. “What the fuck?”

“I’m fine.” He says, standing up and brushing non-existent dirt off his shoulders. “Thanks for asking.”

“I’ve made that fall many times. Stop milking it.” Matthew grins back at you and now you know for sure that he’s fine. Which brings you back to your initial reaction. “What are you doing here?”

He gives you a look. “How else was I supposed to see you? You know, considering you’ve been avoiding me.” He pulls your flip flop out of his pocket. “I have your shoe, by the way.”

“Oh, I’ve been looking for this.” You say lamely.

“Jesus Christ.” He snickers and you can’t help but laugh. At least it breaks the tension a little, or at least it does, until Matthew stops laughing to smile at you instead, long enough that you stop laughing too.

“What?” You ask, the laugh still kind of fading away with the word.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It just feels like it’s been forever since I’ve heard you laugh like that now.”

And then it’s abrupt, the return of the tension. You feel your shoulders hike up, almost defensively, and Matthew’s eyes flash. “Not a lot of reason to laugh lately, I guess.”

He sighs, looking almost defeated. “What? What is it?” You shake your head. “Just tell me! Come on.” And you know what? If that’s how he wants to play it, fine. He’s the one that’s so concerned with screwing it up, then he can pick up the pieces too.

“I love you!” You laugh hollowly, a little vindicated with how many emotions wash over his face at your words. Good. You’ve been pushing them down deep for weeks; he can work on them for a bit now. “Isn’t that the worst fucking thing you’ve ever heard?”

“No.” Matthew says quietly. “It’s really not.”

“What?” You frown, but he’s crossing the room and kissing you before you can say anything else.

“I messed up the other day.” Matthew kisses you again. It’s hard to concentrate when he’s kissing you like this, so you step away. “I don’t-I don’t want to screw up with you if we try harder. Because you mean too much to me. I don’t want to lose you.”

You bite your lip. “I don’t want to lose you either, but I can’t. I can’t keep this secret anymore.”

“I know.” He says. “I told my mom; she’s waiting to have drinks with us.” He’s so serious that your jaw drops for a second, but then he cracks a grin.

“You ass-oh my god!” You groan. “No, not again.

Matthew’s grinning as he steps closer to you, pulling you in for another kiss. “Dunno, that joke might never get old.”

“We’re breaking up.” You declare, which is a little hard to do as he’s in the middle of trying to kiss you again. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Nah.” He teases you. “You love me.”

“Worst fucking thing you’ve ever heard.” You agree, finally allowing him to kiss you how he wants.

“Best fucking thing.” He corrects. “I love you, too.”

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