Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Please, he begged silently, even if he didn’t know who he was begging at all. He knew Summer was a strong swimmer, had experience, but this was a river in full spate and if Summer was swept away right in front of him, Fox would...would...
...please.
One agonizing second after another... Summer forged on, gasping as harder surges splashed and threatened to swamp over his head, pushing himself up to keep his head above water. But as a particularly hard swell hit, the water slammed into him and lifted him off his feet, jerking his entire body to one side and leaving him holding on fiercely to the bridge rail, while the surge of water tossed him up and down.
And Fox broke.
Mindless, thoughtless, he knew only one thing:
He had to get to Summer before Summer was torn away from him.
And without hesitation, he dove into the icy water on the other side of the bridge, finally finding his voice as he grasped on to the railing.
“Summer!”
Summer’s head jerked up, as he managed to drag his other hand over to tighten his grip on the railing; the surge subsided, his body settling back down through the water to touch down with both feet, and he stared at Fox, before crying out, “Don’t move—Fox, I’m coming!”
He thrashed through the water harder, faster, pushing himself toward Fox, but Fox refused to go back, he had to get to Summer, to see him safe to the other side, even as the water was rising up around him—his thighs, his hips, his waist, his chest, and suddenly he was back in every nightmare, struggling to breathe as the water slapped and frothed around his shoulders, and he couldn’t let go of the railing but he couldn’t move forward either, and he was going to drown, going to—
“Fox.”
One of Summer’s arms wrapped hard around him—and suddenly his heated, wet body pressed against Fox, grounding him, holding him fast with one arm while the other hand stayed tight to the railing, and Fox clutched at him, sucked in several panicky breaths, buried his face in his shoulder.
“Summer, Summer...”
“I’ve got you,” Summer soothed, voice steady despite his panting, walking them forward, their combined weight a bulwark against the water; Fox could barely make his stiff legs move, but somehow he crawled along with Summer, refusing to let go. “It’s all right, Fox. I’m here.”
The waves lashed them, battered them...yet Summer held strong. Strong enough for both of them, Fox realized dimly, as, shaking, they spilled off the bridge onto the other side near his Camry, stumbling out of the water and nearly falling before they caught each other with gripping hands.
Fox wasn’t crying.
He wasn’t.
It was just the rain, he told himself.
Just the rain.
Summer clasped his shoulders, then his face, staring at him. “Fox—Fox, why did you do that? I was coming to you—”
“Why did you do that?” Fox flared, clutching at Summer’s wrists, his chest feeling like it would explode with the rush of fear suddenly built up and bursting out. “I couldn’t let you...what if you’d been...what if you’d...”
Then Summer’s arms were around him again—strong enough to block out the driving rain, warm enough to erase the sucking, icy sensation of waterlogged clothing, while Summer buried his face in Fox’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t. I didn’t,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I’m safe, Fox. I’m here. I’m here with you...if you’ll just...if you’ll just stop running from me.”
“I had to run,” Fox gulped out—and yet somehow his arms moved of their own volition, creeping around Summer, clutching at his back, and suddenly that free-floating feeling was gone, that black drowning sensation, as long as Summer was in his arms. “I can’t... I can’t figure out what I’m doing, I need to just... I’ve been stuck here for so long, stagnating, and if I left I could...”
“Nothing,” Summer said softly. “Leaving Omen didn’t change me, Fox. I didn’t find what I was looking for out there because where you are doesn’t matter. It’s who you are...and you’re not going to find who you are by running. I learned that the hard way. I didn’t find who I wanted to be until I found you...right back in the town I ran away from for all these years.”
Fox lifted his head, stricken, staring at Summer.
He had changed, Fox thought.
Because he was so steady now, so strong, so calm, so certain of himself.
And Fox had changed, too.
Because now he was the one uncertain, fragile, frightened, when before he had tried to make himself so untouchable, so unshakeable.
And he would have to learn to be open to that, to flow with it, to just...reach for something with no certainty that he would ever be able to hold it forever, if he wanted to be with Summer.
“What if I don’t know who I want to be yet?” he whispered. “What if you hate who I become while I try to figure this out?”