Summer Forever by Amy Sparling Page A

on the wall.
    But that’s not even the best part.
    In the middle of the room, facing the window, is an easel with a blank canvas already set up on the stand. A big red bow sits on the corner of the canvas and a table with fresh new paintbrushes, tons of paints in every color, and a collection of mixed media supplies rest in a neat line against the wall.
    Park has taken little bits of the things I love, every aspect of what makes me happy, and turned it into a glorious paint studio just for me.
    I don’t even realize tears are in my eyes until I blink and they roll down my cheeks. I turn around and find Park standing in the doorway, a look of anxious anticipation on his face. “What do you think?” he says, gesturing to the room.
    I crush into him, throwing my arms around his shoulders. He catches me, hoisting me up until I’m eye level with him and he’s holding me in the air. I kiss him hard. “It’s the best present ever,” I say, burying my head into his shoulder. “My presents for you suck now.”
    “No they don’t,” he says, squeezing me to him, his calloused hands pressing into my back. “It’s not a competition, anyhow.”
    I shake my head and wipe away the tears. “Hey…Park?”
    “Mmm?” he says into my collarbone as his lips gently kiss me.
    “Take me to your room.” My request is a whisper, but he hears me and does exactly as he’s told.

Chapter 16
     
    I wrap my legs around my boyfriend’s waist and cling to his neck as he descends the stairs much too quickly, in my opinion. I let out a frightened squeal as we round the corner banister to the second floor. “I got you,” he says, sounding way too amused with himself. He may be strong enough to carry me, but one misstep could send us tumbling down two flights of stairs.
    But he makes it to his bedroom door as promised, and shifts his hands to where one is wrapped around me and the other opens his bedroom door. He closes it behind us and although we’re the only two people in the house, it feels much safer within the privacy of his bedroom.
    Just like in the movie make out scenes, Park walks me to his bed and lowers me onto it. He doesn’t even stumble. There’s something so sexy about a man who can carry me around and set me on the bed without so much as gasping for breath.
    “Come here,” I whisper, and Park climbs onto the bed, on top of me, with his arms on either side of my head. I slip my hands under his shirt, planning on doing some kind of sexy slow motion movement to take it off, but the moment my fingers touch his warm muscular stomach, I can’t help myself. I grab his shirt and pull it over his head and he helps me take his arms out.
    Without waiting for him to make a move, I lift my back and pull my shirt off as well. Park’s expression goes from surprised to awe. He leans back on his heels and runs his hands up my belly, to my ribs and on to my bra. I am not waiting for him to ask permission this time. I will not back out. I want this. I need this.
    I wrap one hand around his neck and pull myself up, kissing his neck and tracing my tongue down to his collar bone. With my other hand, I reach around and unhook my bra, then pull it off and let it fall to the floor. Park moans when I kiss his neck again and then he slides both hands down my back and around my butt. He presses into me, our flesh colliding in ways that make me shudder.
    “Off,” I whisper as I tug on his jeans. He takes them off quickly, leaving on nothing but his boxers. I do the same with my jeans, but I let him help me pull them off.
    “I love you so much,” he says as he tosses my jeans to the floor.
    I’m lying on my back in the middle of Park’s bed while he needs at my feet, smiling. I’m exposed, vulnerable, and yet I don’t feel any worry anymore. No anxiety about my body or fears that he won’t like me for me. Even when he leans forward and the muscles in his arms flex, reminding me that he is so out of my league, I don’t question his love