Seb’s Summer by K.C. Wells
Chapter One
June 13
Whatever Seb Williams was feeling right that second went way beyond pissed. And all it had taken to get him there was one phone call from his mom.
He strode back into the house, stopping short of slamming the door at the last second, because the logical part of his brain kicked in and reminded him he’d wake Grammy if he did that.
The nerve of my mom. He still couldn’t believe she’d come out with all that crap. UncleGary must’ve put her up to it. It’s revenge, that’s what it is. Revenge for that time he took me out on the boat when I was just a kid, and I barfed all over the deck. Well, no fucking way was this guy gonna spend his long-awaited, dreamed-of, fantasized-about summer vacation cleaning buoys, prepping bait, hauling traps, and securing lobster claws. It horrified him that he even knew about all that shit. Those tasks were burned into his memory.
Uncle Gary scarred me for life.
Levi came out of the kitchen as Seb was grabbing his jacket from the hooks by the door. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Seb forced himself to breathe deeply before he spoke. “Hey dude. Great party, but I’m outta here. I just finished a really bad call from my mom, and if I stay, I’m gonna ruin it for everyone. I’ll call, okay?” Then he was out of the house and heading for his car, thankful he hadn’t been on the booze all night. He’d had a beer about two hours ago, but that call had rendered him stone cold sober in a heartbeat.
He unlocked the door, got behind the wheel, and resisted the urge to let loose with a yell. Fuck you, Uncle Gary. You are not gonna ruin my summer. His phone rang, and he squirmed in the seat, trying to free it from his jeans pocket.
“Did you forget something?” Levi asked as the call connected.
“Apart from my manners? Don’t think so.” He shouldn’t have left like that.
“How about your overnight guests? Aren’t Ben, Dylan, and Aaron staying with you tonight?”
Aw fuck. “Shit, yeah.” He’d forgotten about them completely. Duh. That’s why you weren’t drinking tonight, you dickhead.
Before he could get another word out, Levi got in first. “Look, don’t worry about it. They can stay here tonight. I’ll make up the guest bed.”
That sweet guy. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t think you’re in any mood to entertain guests. Text me when you get back to your place, okay? Just so I know you didn’t wrap your car around a tree or something.”
“Sure. Thanks, Levi.” He disconnected. Thank God for Levi. Then Seb recalled the rest of his weekend plans. The guys were coming over for lunch.
We’ll see. If he could shift this mood, then maybe.
He drove back to Ogunquit in almost total silence, except for the odd vehement “fuck!” yelled here and there. By the time he was home, his rage had subsided to a simmer.
Not gonna get mad about this. I’m just gonna tell Uncle Gary it ain’t happening, no matter what my mom says. Seb had worked his ass off. He needed to recharge his batteries, and the way he was feeling, it would take until school started again at the end of August to accomplish that.
He opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. When his phone buzzed on the table, he peered at the screen with trepidation. If that’s Mom, I don’t think I can pull my punches. He breathed easier when he saw it wasn’t her—it was an unknown caller. Seb picked it up and hit Answer, waiting for whoever was on the other end to speak first. If it was a spam caller, he was in the perfect mood to blast them.
“Seb? You there?”
He recognized his uncle’s voice immediately. “Hey, Uncle Gary.” Aw fuck. It looked like shit was about to get real.
A wry chuckle filled his ears. “Jesus, kid, you’re a bit old for that uncle crap. Call me Gary.” His voice sounded strained.
Seb had to agree. It felt as though he was eight years old again. “Mom called. Said you’ve had some bad luck.” He pulled out a chair at the small kitchen table and sat.
Gary snorted. “Fuck, you can say that again. Pardon my French if my fuckin’ language offends your delicate ears.”
Despite his mood, Seb laughed. Gary hadn’t changed. “So how did you break your pelvis? Don’t tell me. You slipped on a fish. Oh, I know—a lobster tripped you up with its claw.”
“Har har. Funny man. I wiped out on my friggin’ motorcycle. And it’s not a break, it’s a fracture. Trust your mom to exaggerate the fuck outta this.” Seb caught a muffled voice in the background, followed by Gary’s growl. “No, I will not stop cussin’ in my own friggin’ home. Christ on a cracker, woman, I’m gonna be in your clutches for eight weeks or more. You’d better get used to my cussin’, ’cause I don’t aim on lettin’ up anytime soon.”
“Who’s there with you?”
Gary groaned. “Your Aunt Annie—and she’s bein’ a royal pain in the ass!” Seb caught Aunt Annie’s raised voice, then what sounded like a scuffle.
“Hi, Seb. Annie here.”
“Did you just wrestle Gary for the phone?”
“Stupid ol’ mule.” He didn’t miss the affection in her tone, however.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that they had to use screws to pin him back together. And don’t listen to a word he says. Fracture, my ass.” She groaned. “Now he’s got me cussing too. Five minutes around him, and I’m swearing like a sailor. Now, what he needs is complete bed rest. The doctors said it could take eight to twelve weeks for him to fully recover, so I’m taking him home with me. He can’t very well stay here. Besides, you’ll have enough on your plate, without being a nursemaid to a cantankerous old—”
“Hey!”
“Oh hush. You know I’m right. Besides, if you stay, all you’ll do is pull-haul everything Seb does. Tim knows what he’s doing, right?” Seb caught Gary’s muttered, grudging agreement. “Well, that’s fine. You leave Tim in charge, Seb will do what he’s told, and you get to heal up.” Another pause.
“Go make me some tea,” Gary barked out. Annie’s voice dimmed, and Gary sighed. “She means well. I know why she’s doin’ it. All your cousins have quit the nest, and she has to have someone to mother, right? And she will look after me.”
If you don’t kill each other first. “You in pain?”
“Are you kiddin’? They’ve got me on these painkillers that got me high as a fuckin’ kite, till they wear off.” There was a pause. “Look, I’m sorry ’bout this. You were the only one I could think of.”
Seb pushed out a heavy sigh. “I get it. Mom already laid out the whole you’re-free-for-the-summer argument. And Annie’s right. At least she’ll be able to take care of you.”
“So what time can you get here in the morning?”
Wait—what? “Excuse me?”
“There’s stuff I need to tell ya before she whisks me away on her broomstick.” Annie’s voice rumbled in the background. “Hush yourself. I’m talkin’ to Seb, and it’s important. So yeah, I’ve got stuff I need to go over with you, so you’re ready to start Monday.”
And just like that, Seb was back to being pissed. Looks like lunch with the guys is canceled.
“I’ll send her out in the morning with a grocery list over’t Bradbury’s. That way, you don’t have to think about food for a while. I’ll make sure she stocks up on the basics.”
Seb knew Gary was doing his best to lessen the blow, but it still sucked. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, not if he didn’t want to come across as a cold-hearted bastard.
“I’ll be there before noon. That good enough?” Cape Porpoise was about a half-hour’s drive from Ogunquit, if that.
“Yeah, that’d be great.” Another sigh. “I’ll try not to kill your Aunt Annie by then.” A pause. “Thanks, Seb. I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but—”
“You get some rest, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Seb disconnected. He put the phone down, then took a long drink. Well shit. So much for not talking it into existence. Looks like the cosmos is gonna steamroller me into it. Seb raised his bottle. “Summer is officially canceled,” he announced to the world.
He got up from the table, his phone in one hand, the bottle in the other, went through the arch that led to his living room, and flopped on the couch, careful to hold the bottle steady. He gazed at his surroundings. Let’s look on the bright side. I don’t have plants to die on me while I’m away. Seb did not possess a green thumb. And it was the only bright side he could see.
Sucks donkey balls.
His phone buzzed once. It was a text from Levi.
You okay?
He clicked Call. “Nope.” He relayed the key points. “So that’s it. What a shitshow.”
“Hey, at least there’s a positive side to all this.”
Seb snorted. “There is? Not from where I’m sitting.” Except for the whole plants thing, and he wasn’t going into that with Levi.
“Sure there is. You’re going to spend the summer working that body. By the time you’re through, you’re gonna be so buff you’ll have to fight off all the guys drooling over you.”
He had to hand it to Levi. The guy was a regular Pollyanna.
“Thanks for that. I’ll let you go back to the party.”
Levi chuckled. “What party?”
Seb’s stomach clenched. “Hey, I didn’t kill it, did I?”
“Relax. Almost everyone had gone by then. Right now the guys are in the guest room, talking over hot chocolate and Grammy’s oatmeal raisin cookies.”
“Aw, fuck, I missed out.” She made the best cookies.
“Don’t worry. Next time you’re here, I’ll make sure we’ve got some for you. And you stayed at the party longer than Finn and Joel did.”
Seb cackled. “Yeah, but they had an excuse to leave. They had a date with a hotel bed.”
“Speaking of beds… get some sleep. And keep in touch? You ever need to talk to someone, you know where I am. Especially if you need a change of scenery.”
“Thanks, man.” Seb disconnected. He set both phone and bottle down on the carpet, folded his arms under his head, and closed his eyes.
What came instantly to mind was the light in Joel’s eyes when he looked at Finn.
Someone wrote about that light in a song. Because lovelight nailed it.
The first time he’d seen Finn and Joel together at Maine Street, Seb had known they were a good fit, but the party had been a revelation. He’d never seen Finn so goddamn happy. Seb had kept sneaking glances across the patio all evening, watching him and Joel as they sat together, talking quietly, laughing, and so many smiles shared between them.
Fuck, the way Joel looked at him… There was such intimacy in that gaze. A weight settled over Seb’s chest, and his limbs felt heavy as fuck.
I want that.
He wanted someone to know him, balls to bones. Someone to care when he was angry, or hurting, or just plain tired. Someone to come home to at the end of a long day, to give him a foot rub and listen to him rant about the little bastards he had to teach.
And the fact that I don’t have someone like that? Is that down to me?
Seb knew how he came across—no-strings, no-commitment, two-dimensional kinda dude. It wasn’t his fault the guys he went most for—older guys, with a bit of silver here and there—weren’t into commitment. They were mostly out for all the fun they could get, so why not give ’em what they wanted?
Maybe that’s why those guys never make it past one night with me. Maybe they saw more than Seb thought they did, saw the need in him, and perceived him as being too much work.
Except Joel was an older guy, and he clearly had no issues with commitment. There have to be more like him out there, right? Seb didn’t doubt for a second that as soon as he’d gone to the bathroom that afternoon, one of his friends would’ve made a comment about how Joel checked all Seb’s boxes. Sure he did—but he was Finn’s guy.
Seb wanted a guy of his own.
Even my friends don’t know the real me. They think I’m like a peach, with a stone where my heart should be, but I’ve got more layers than an onion.
That stopped him dead. Whoa. Seb wasn’t one for philosophical musing. What the fuck brought that on? Maybe it was seeing Finn and Joel. And as for them not knowing the real him, that wasn’t true, not anymore. Only a month or so ago, Seb had confessed something to Finn that not one of the others knew—he had one-night stands because that was all he could get.
Have I talked myself into this corner? Am I subconsciously putting up barriers, signs that read Alert—commitment-phobic?
All Seb knew was how he’d felt when he watched Finn and Joel.
He wanted what they had.
I’m not gonna find someone in Cape Porpoise. All I’m gonna find there is a lot of hard work.
Thank God for porn. He had a feeling it would be a lifesaver in the coming weeks.
His phone buzzed, and he reached down for it. When he opened Finn’s WhatsApp message, his throat tightened. It was a selfie. Finn had taken it from above, and it showed him in bed, beneath white sheets, and Joel curled up around him, asleep.
The message contained one line: So fucking happy. As if Seb needed to be told. Happiness shone out of him. His face glowed with it.
And there was that goddamn weight on Seb’s chest again. He didn’t begrudge Finn his sparkly new relationship, not for one goddamn second, but it did throw Seb’s own situation into sharp relief.
I want to be happy too.
More than that, he wanted what Finn had—someone to look at him with lovelight in their eyes.