Page 63 of Tiger Lilies and Tight Ends

Dean telling me that Lily’s always had a thing for me shifted our years together and made me see some of our interactions through a different lens. The subtle glances, the blushing, and then there were how her hands shook as I led her onto the dance floor at Lance’s wedding. Maybe subconsciously I always knew, but given that she is younger than I am and forbidden because she’s Lance’s sister, I never allowed myself to look at her that way.

Until these past few months.

It’s hard not to see her when she’s the brightest, most beautiful thing in any room, and more than anything, I know I’m ready. I’m ready to cross that line and suffer through the consequences of Lance.

“Dean told me to tell you it’s time for you to come home.” I glance at her to see her reaction, and she doesn’t disappoint as her jaw drops open.

The ride home has been mostly quiet. Both of us are sneaking peeks at each other, but hell, I’m ready to stand in front of her, to bare it all, and be the only one she sees.

“Tell me you’re joking.” She shifts in her seat to look at me more fully.

“He also wants me to tell you to text him back.”

Her hands are lying in her lap, and slowly, they curl into fists as mine tighten around the steering wheel. Her talking to him again makes me irrationally angry, and my stomach aches.

“And what did you tell him?” She’s completely exasperated.

“To fuck off.”

A laugh escapes her, and I look over to see my favorite color twinkling and a smile stretched from one side of her face to the other.

“Oh my God. That is the best thing I’ve ever heard. I would have loved to see his reaction,” she tells me, and the muscle behind my rib cage swells.

“I didn’t bother to stick around. I’d heard enough.”

“I still have a hard time reconciling with myself that I stayed as long as I did. I don’t know what I was thinking was going to change.”

Her vulnerability punches me in the gut. Other people have treated us badly, and I know from firsthand experience that it’s easy to go down the “what-if” road. What if I’d seen the signs sooner? What did I do or not do to make myself look like the biggest idiot in the world? What if she had opened her eyes to his ways and left him sooner? What if she hadn’t wasted all those years?

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell her.

“Somedays, it still feels like it matters. I just feel so stupid.”

Coming up to a red light, when the truck stops, I lean over and wrap my hand around the back of her head. While her hair brings me to my knees, her eyes steal my soul. Staring into them, I tell her the only thing that matters going forward.

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be. I believe everything happens for a reason, and through all of this, it brought you to me. Let’s not think about the past anymore. Let’s live in the present, and maybe soon talk about the future.”

Her eyes turn glassy, but I can’t have that. Leaning forward, I pull her to me, and for the second time, I kiss her. Taking her bottom lip between mine, I gently suck on it before sliding my tongue against hers. This kiss isn’t full of pent-up longing like the other. It’s tender and sweet. This kiss says, “I’ve got you, and you’ve got me.”

That is until her hand slides over and up my thigh, coming very close to my dick as she reaches for my shirt to pull me closer.

I groan at the same time a horn behind us honks. We pull apart, she smiles at me, and my heart shudders in my chest.

The rest of the ride home is quiet. I’ve turned on the radio, and country music drifts through the speakers. Clouds are rolling in for an afternoon shower, and my mind spins in every direction about having her in my bed while it's raining.

As I turn down my street, my brain and other parts of me think, “Finally,” when beside me, she sits up straight and quietly says, “Oh no.”

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask her, glancing her way and then toward my house to see what she’s looking at.

She turns to face me, and there’s worry etched onto her face. “Morgan’s here. I promise I didn’t invite her here. I didn’t even tell her your address.”

My gaze swings back to the house again, and there parked on the street out front is a gray car. A mix of emotions swirls through me. The first being the night I had planned for us has now been ruined, but the second is why is she here? Why is she at my house? I don’t like people coming to my house.

“You didn’t tell her my address? And she didn’t tell you she was coming?”

“No and no. She’s like this, though. Sometimes I know she’s coming, and other times, she just appears. The last time I saw her was at my parents' house. I let her know that I had left Dean, and within an hour, she had shown up with champagne and tacos. She strode into the kitchen and dumped her bags and purse on the counter and said, ‘Let’s celebrate.’”

“How does she find you?”