Free Summer Forever by Amy Sparling Page A

even heard a word she’s said, thanks to being caught up in my own world of obsessing over Park. I smile and nod at her and she keeps talking, totally unaware of how much of a bad friend I am. Good. She doesn’t need to know that I’m so pathetic I can’t even put Park out of my mind for five minutes.
    After a few hours of shopping, my best friend and I have a dozen bags between the two of us, and we’re all shopped out. Everyone on my list is accounted for except for Park, and it’s been a pretty good day despite that.
    Since I’m driving, I take Bayleigh over to her mom’s house so we can pick up Jett and I can’t help myself—I give him one of the toys I had picked out for him at the surf shop. It’s a stuffed shark and he loves it. It’s official. I am the coolest godmother around.
    When I get home later, I drop off all of my presents and hide them in the back of my closet. Three of my paintings sold while we were at the mall, so I find the right canvases and pack them up with a shipping label to drop off at the post office before heading to Park’s house.
    This is the first Christmas of my life where I’m not worried about needing money to buy gifts. And now, that I have literally hundreds of dollars that I could use on a gift for Park, I can’t think of a single thing to get him.
    When I get there, I let myself in because the front door is wide open. “Park?” I call out from the foyer.
    “Be there in a second,” he calls out from somewhere upstairs. I walk toward the staircase and get there right when Park comes barreling down them, covered in sweat and wearing a smile the size of Texas. “Hey there,” he says.
    I go to rush into his arms, but immediately stop when my hands get soaked against his back. “Ugh,” I say, stepping back.
    Park laughs. “Sorry, I was working on the house.”
    “Well hurry and shower because I need some massive cuddle time.”
    His eyebrows draw together. “Is everything okay?”
    I nod. “I am stressed out about something but it’s not a big deal.”
    “What is it?”
    I push him gently with my hands. “Shower first. Talk later.”
     
     
    Hours later, we’re cuddled on the couch and I’ve just poured my heart out to him. “Seriously? Christmas presents?” he says, gently stroking my hair with his fingers. “You seemed really upset earlier and it was just because you don’t know what to get me?” He shakes his head and laughs as if that’s the silliest reason to be upset.
    Okay, so, maybe I didn’t tell him every thing.
    “Yeah,” I say. “My present last year was so great and this year I can’t think of anything to get you. You’re a guy who doesn’t really want many things.”
    He squeezes me closer and grabs the remote to turn down the volume. “You’re all I need.”
    “You can’t say that. I want to get you something. But there’s no way I can top last year’s present.”
    “Every year doesn’t have to top the year before it, babe. If you really want to blow me away this Christmas…” He places a finger to his lips as if he’s concentrating and he looks around the living room. “I need dishes, a welcome mat for the front door, some more towels…basically anything for this house and I’d be psyched.”
    “So maybe I’ll just get you a nice toaster and call it a day,” I say with a laugh.
    “I like toast. That would work.”
    I roll my eyes. “I have to give you something good.” Then, because I’m a little insane with anxiety over the sex topic, and because I’d like to judge his reaction, I muster up some boldness and say, “Maybe I’ll cover myself with whipped cream and give you myself as a present.”
    “Mmmm,” he says, tucking his lips in the space between my head and shoulder. “That would be the present of the century.”
    “Would that count as a present?” I ask lightly, as if it’s a joke. It is so not a joke.
    “It’d be the best present ever.”
    All the blood in my entire body rushes to my cheeks as