Have they no shame? As soon as they see me spot them, they all jerk away.
I shake my head. “There is no such thing as privacy around here,” I tell Peter.
He laughs. “I remember,” he says. “Annoying as hell.”
“You should go now,” I tell him, knowing that my family won’t suddenly morph into the welcoming committee if he steps back inside. “I’ll call you.”
He waves a hand as he steps into his shiny silver BMW. He’s happy. I’ve obviously given him hope. I’m not sure how I feel about that.
As soon as I get back inside, everyone seems suddenly very busy. “You guys are something else… Stop spying on me.”
Mandy smiles playfully. She has the same impish grin her brother has. I’d love to wipe it off her face. “So what’s the deal? Are you two getting back together?” she asks. I catch a glimpse of Blake who seems confused, hurt, and curious. I wish he weren’t here. I wish he hadn’t witnessed Peter’s sudden act of desperation.
“It’s complicated,” I tell her.
Blake turns on his heel and walks out of the room.
I know he’s hurt. I suppose he cares more than I assumed. According to Mandy, her brother is out every weekend with a different girl. Why am I not just another lay to him? Is it our shared history? Is that all it is?
The truth is… I still don’t trust Blake. I trust Peter. Sure, Peter acted like a total coward and freaked out at the most crucial time, but not once, have I ever worried about him stepping out on me. He’s an attractive man, but he’s not a charmer like Blake. Heads don’t spin when he walks into a room.
Something about that makes me feel safe.
The back door slams. Blake has stormed off in a huff. He used to do that occasionally, back in the day. He likes to come through the front door, and storm out through the back.
I run after him, as fast as my heels will take me. He’s fast. He turns his head in my direction but chooses not to stop. He plows on ahead, so angry. It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s upset about – Peter. I finally catch up to him, and grab his wrist. “Stop.”
He stops reluctantly. His mouth is a tight line and his beautiful eyes are black. “What’s wrong?” I ask. Obviously I already know, but I want him to tell me.
“What do you think, Sherlock?” He sets off to go again, but I pull at his arm. He turns to me. “You’ve had your fun, slumming it with me for a while, just like old times, but now it’s time to get back to Parker and his fancy-ass car. To your better life. I get it.” He tears himself away from me and heads toward his house.
“It’s complicated,” I try to explain.
“It’s not complicated,” he says. “We were just fucking, I get it. Parker’s the one you’re engaged to.” We’re trudging through his backyard and I’m suddenly taken back to so long ago, when we’d spend hours playing back here. The old tire swing still hangs from the large maple. That old shed is still standing, and so is the old swing set his dad built. His fishing boat sits in its usual spot.
I run after him again, and when I catch up to him, he takes me by surprise when he grabs my arm. “What do you want from me?”
“I…” My heart is pounding so hard. “I… I don’t know. I just want to make sure we’re all right. I don’t want to leave on a bad note.”
He pulls me to him and wraps his hands in my hair. He pulls at it as he draws me in closer, draws me in for a kiss. I get lost in him. I rub the palms of my hands against his neatly trimmed beard, savoring the taste of his mouth. I want him one last time. God, I want him.
He pulls away. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks, breathless. “Is this ending on a good note?”
I bury my hands in his hair and pull him back to me. I melt into him when he kisses me again. He grabs my ass and presses me hard against him. I want him to take me inside. I tear my mouth from his. “Take me to your room,” I beg. “Please.”
He trails a hand under the skirt of my dress, toys with my panties. “Nah…” he says.
My eyes grow wide, and my stomach feels like stone. He’s saying no.
“Nah,” he says. “Beds are for you and Parker. You and I… we just fuck, don’t we. Beds are not for us.” He pulls at the band of my panties, and with one swift motion, he slides them over the curve of my ass. I swallow and close my eyes. I let him do this, right in the middle of his backyard, where anyone can see us. I let him because it feels so good. I throw my head back when he slides his hand over my sex.
That’s when I grab onto his wrist and steady his hand. “We need to stop.”
“Why?” he asks, his voice hoarse. “Afraid Parker might see? Hey, why don’t you snap a pic for your Instagram, or are we not doing that anymore?”
I pull away from him but he’s quick to grab my arm. “Come with me,” he says, his voice soft. He takes my hand and leads me out back, toward the shed. I hike my panties back up with one hand and follow eagerly, not quite sure what he’s up to.
When we reach the shed, he swings the door open and pulls me in. He slams the door behind us, and we find ourselves in almost total darkness. It’s cold and damp. The full moon shines through the windows and gives us a bit of light. The small enclosed space is a mess; tools on one wall, lawnmower, tons of fishing gear, a stack of tires, and a table topped with bottles and cans. There’s barely standing room for the two of us. He spins me around and presses me against the door. It smells of peeling paint and rotten wood.
He presses his hot mouth on my neck. “Is this what you want?”
