Summer Love Read Online Free PDF Page B

asking.”
    Adam nods his head and says, “Well, it was still nice to meet you. And thanks again. I hope the kids behave during their swim lessons and don’t interrupt your relaxing time.”
    You laugh. “Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I’ve got headphones, and I’m not afraid to use ’em.”
    â€œYou may need to blast your music if one of those guys gets to wailing.”
    â€œDuly noted,” you tell Adam. “Enjoy your break.”
    He looks as if he’s about to say something more, but instead salutes you, which is kind of goofy, but somehow kind of cute, too. And it makes you wonder if maybe he’s going into the military or something. Especially with those abs.
    You salute him back and head over to your chair. Click here to continue.
    Click here to go back to talking to Adam and the triplets.
    - - - - -
    Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.

YOU look back and forth between the two guys. Dex’s blond curls are flopping in the breeze, and his cheekbones look especially chiseled in the sun. His eyes are soft and pleading.
    â€œI think I’ll give Dex a chance to apologize,” you say.
    Mitch looks disappointed, but Dex’s grin has turned into a full-fledged smile. “I promise I’ll make my apology worth your while,” he says, holding his hand out to you.
    As you walk, he starts to apologize in earnest. “The twins can be . . . a lot sometimes. And Mitch is so competitive. I just try to go with whatever they want and not get into it with them. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to play with you. That couldn’t be further from the truth.”
    He looks at you with his navy blue eyes. “Do you forgive me?” he asks.
    You look at him sideways. “I’m thinking about it,” you tell him.
    Click here to continue .
    Click here to go back to playing tennis with Mitch.
    - - - - -
    Click here to go back to the beginning and start over.

YOU’VE always had a thing for smart guys—even back in kindergarten you had a crush on the one boy who could already read, Danny Jung. He left after kindergarten, moved to another state, you heard. You wonder for a brief minute what happened to him and vow to Google him later. He used to have a lunchbox that looked like a barn. A red one. With horses and pigs painted on it. That’s another reason you liked him back then. Yours was just plain with stripes.
    Anyway, this particular smart guy, the one on the beach now reading
The Iliad
, seems as if he’s worth a try. You take your book in one hand and the sunscreen in the other and walk over to his towel.
    â€œHi,” you say. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I just wanted to tell you that I like your taste in books.” You show him the spine on yours. There’s a little Penguin on it, matching the one on his. “I think our books are related.”
    He looks up at you with eyes the color of olives and laughs. “Definitely cousins.” Then he turns his sideways so you can see how thick it is. “Mine’s the overweight cousin. The one everyone talks about behind his back when he helps himself to a fourth hamburger and a fifth slice of blueberry pie.”
    You turn your book sideways. “I think mine’s the cousin who probably could use a second burger and goes to Zumba classes every morning.”
    â€œZumba?” he asks.
    You shake your head. “Never mind. Some sort of dance workout thing my mom does.”
    He nods sagely. “Zumba. Got it.” Then he notices the tube of sunscreen in your hand. “Do you always carry sunscreen when you compliment people’s books?”
    This is your opening! “Well,” you say, “not always. But I’m having a sunscreen emergency rightnow, and, actually, I was wondering if you could help.”
    â€œA sunscreen emergency?” he asks, his eyes getting