Heir Born

12 | Nate

When we get downstairs in the pool house, Summer and I go sit down on one of the bigger couches in the living room. Summer, drink in hand, sits comfortably next to me. But far enough that we're not touching. Can't be too careful. I turn to face her. Her eyes just about knock me out, but I do my best to contain myself.

"So... I have a confession." I start, placing my drink down on the mini coffee table in front of us. "My mom is not gonna like that I'm hanging out with you this year."

Hanging out? What is that? Who are you?

"Hanging out?" Summer repeats my words to herself. I feel a little heat take over my body, but between the scotch and Summer, it's hard to tell if it's really just the effects of the scotch I'm drinking neat, or something else entirely.

"Do you want it to be more than hanging out?" I know what I want. More. Always more.

"Won't your mom like disown you or something? I mean, I am the enemy's daughter, after all."

Summer's got jokes. She always does when she's comfortable. At ease. Herself. And I can't help but laugh. I get a glimpse of how my laugh catches her way off guard. I guess she's never really heard me laugh so uncensored before.

"She can't, even if she wanted to." I scoff at the thought. I hide a hint of resentment. Eleanor brings the worst out of me. "I'm a Vanderbilt by birth."

Summer takes a sip of her drink then also puts it down, before she turns to face me.

"I guess I have a confession too." She nervously bites her bottom lip, something which completely surprises me at how such a seemingly insignificant movement of her lip tugs at my insides. I have to stop myself from just kissing her right there and then.

"Honestly... my dad doesn't really like your mom either." She looks down as she says this. Shy? Maybe hating that she has to even say that? I lift her chin slightly with my fingers, bringing her face back up so our eyes meet.

"I already know that. But guess what? That's not our problem." I go soft on her, as she looks at me like she's meeting me for the first time. I let her go, then take her by the hand.

Of  course your hands feel like magic.

"I really like you, Summer. You drive me crazy, literally. And I honest to God want to kill you most of the time. If not all the time." She frowns at me, as her lips part. I can tell she's ready to defend herself and maybe throw some not-so-pretty choice words in my direction. I can't help my smirk.

"But even then, I still really, really like you." My thumb just instinctively starts to rub the back of her hand.

If I'm being honest, 'like' is an understatement. Obsessed with you more like.

Summer completely forgets that she was seconds away from killing me, when she starts blushing again. This time she doesn't even bother trying to hide it or shy away from me. If she were drinking I'd be convinced the alcohol is responsible for how hot and flushed she looks right now. Her eyes blink uncontrollably as she plays with some of her curly strands.

"Nate, I—" she stops. Hesitates, then looks down again. "I really like you too." She looks back up at me, but no smile. Just fear, or uncertainty, or maybe even vulnerability... I can't quite put my finger on it. Yet somehow I can feel the exact same electricity she's feeling. I'm sure of it.

I scoot closer to her on the couch, she doesn't budge. That's a good sign.

Smooth. Real smooth, Vanderbilt.

Our eyes stay on each other. And then before she knows it, I take her face in my hands and start kissing her. Gently. Softly. Carefully. Almost like she's a piece of precious glass that I don't want to break. That I can't afford to break.