The Summer I Said Yes

by Tess Harper

  He frowned. “What?”

  “Yeah. And your dimples are twinkling like black holes.”

  He tilted his head back. “Black holes don’t twinkle.”

  “Yours do.”

  He stared at me. Just stared for a full five seconds. Then he started to laugh. It sounded like wind chimes and…well, actually I’m not going to describe it.

  “Emily,” he sighed when he’d finished, still grinning.

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “Did you have anything to drink tonight?” he asked.

  He was looking for a reason for my insanity. He was willing to excuse it. I could lie right now and say I was a bit tipsy to get away with admitting all these stupid things to him, but for some reason I didn’t want to. Maybe because if he couldn’t handle this then he couldn’t handle me, and I wanted to know if he could handle me. “No,” I answered.

  “Good,” he said.

  Well, I guess that answered it. He wanted to get away from the crazy lady who poetically compared him to Lisa Frank stickers and horrific astronomical theories as soon as possible, and who could blame him? I couldn’t. All the strength that had led me to admit those things was quickly evaporating, leaving me flushed, confused, and self conscious. I sighed and stepped back.

  He reached for my hand. “I’m going to walk you home, then—”

  “What?” Walk me home? Did I hear him correctly?

  His hand was warm, and a little rough, as it enveloped mine. “I’m walking you home now. If I leave you here alone, some creepy drunk might try to hit on you again.”

  My heart flipped. Is this happening? Maybe he didn’t believe me when I said I wasn’t drunk.

  “I’m not drunk,” I said again.

  “I know. I’m glad.”

  “Why? Wait a minute!” I cut in as he opened his mouth. “You said you’d walk me home, then, earlier.”

  He nodded, dimples back. “Yes.”

  “You said, ‘then.’ As in, well if you’re not drunk, then I’ll walk you home. Does that mean you’d leave me defenseless out here if I had been a little tipsy?”

  He chuckled. “No. I’d definitely walk you home then, too.”

  I frowned. “Well, what did you mean by then, then?” Inwardly I groaned as I said the question. Then then? Was I for real? Why wasn’t this guy booking it for the nearest tree? Why wasn’t he climbing up it, breaking off a branch, and waving it at me if I tried to get close?

  He stepped closer. “So, you want to know about the then then?”

  He drew out those two then’s. He was definitely teasing me. I didn’t know if I liked that or not. But either way, I wouldn’t back down. “Yeah, I do.”

  His hand moved slowly to my cheek. “Do you think you’re ready to hear about the…then then?” he chuckled.

  I shivered when he touched me. God, how did this guy manage to make then then sound so dirty, so sexy. And why the hell did I have to react so obviously to it? I tightened my legs as my stomach did little flips. He ran his fingers down my cheek and my stomach did an entire gymnastics routine. Suddenly, I didn’t know if I could handle the then then, whatever the hell it was.

  “I was going to wait until we got to your door to give you a little ‘then then,’” he whispered, bending over slightly.

  “Please stop calling it then then.” My voice was disgustingly raspy. Breathy. It sounded like I was begging for…ugh, I couldn’t say it, couldn’t even think it.

  “I wanted to make sure you weren’t drunk because you’re absolutely adorable.” His warm breath caressed my neck. His mouth was right by my ear. Every cell in my body tingled. “And once I walked you to your door, I knew I’d want to kiss you,” he turned his face and I felt his surprisingly soft lips brush my cheek, “and then…”

  I panted. Oh God, this was so ridiculous. He’d barely even touched me. I’d just awkwardly flirted with him in a manner only a fairy tale prince could be touched by. He’d just used “then then” as his big line, the one that was supposed to make me melt in his arms and hold onto his shoulders as if he were the only thing in the world that could keep me standing.

  And it was working.

  I focused on his parted lips and bit my own. I watched those lips curl into a smile, and I was sucked into those two twinkling black holes on either side of his face, and blinded by them. Everything about him was so blindingly magnetic that I could see nothing else.

  Kiss me. Now. The demand echoed in my head. I knew he could tell I wanted it. That’s what he was trying to prove since we stopped and started talking, I was sure of it. It was what he wanted when we met on the first night in the pool, when we met again on the beach. I was falling right into his trap, but right now I wanted him so bad that I didn’t even care.

  A wicked glint lit his eyes. “So, let’s get you home.”

  His hand found mine again and he turned. Yes, really turned. He was going to leave me there with all that sexual frustration he’d ignited, and he knew it. The guy was a cocky, overly self confident, hot as hell asshole. I didn’t want to want him, but I did. However, that didn’t mean I had to let him have all the control.

  I tightened my grip on his hand and stopped. Slowly he turned.

  “So,” I began, “you think you can twinkle your way into my pants?”

  His lips curled down as he tried to keep from laughing. I yanked on his arm, drawing him closer. That cocky grin faltered as I put my hand behind his head and stood up on my tiptoes.

  I wasn’t used to a guy being taller than me. It made me feel dainty and fluttery, two adjectives I generally avoided like the plague, but right here it didn’t bother me. I kind of liked it.

  “You talk big for someone I haven’t even kissed yet,” I said.

  Surprise flashed in his eyes as the corner of his lip turned up.

  I stretched higher, my heart beating so hard it shook my upper body. “So,” I drawled as his eyes darkened. “Why don’t you give me a taste, and…” keep a straight face, Emily! This won’t work unless you can keep a straight face! I swallowed, “and…then then…”

  I fell over laughing, my forehead hitting his chest.

  “Are you making fun of my line?”

  My head shot up. Could you even call that a line? “I was putting you in your place. And you should totally see your face right now,” I giggled.

  His eyes darkened again. “Does it amuse you?”

  I gave him my biggest, brightest smile. I didn’t even try to hide how much fun I was having. “Oh yeah.”

  He shook his head. “You’re a bad girl, Emily.”

  “Oh don’t you dare criticize me. You completely deserved it!” I insisted. “You left me hanging just a few seconds ago!”

  I felt his muscles tighten in his chest. “Hey, it’s different with guys. I wanted to keep you guessing.”

  “More like keep me sexually frustrated,” I huffed.

  “Well, yeah. I was working up to the big moment.”

  Big moment? “So you had a game plan all along?”

  “Of course I did.”

  I grinned. “I’m not so sure. Maybe you’re just a really bad kisser, and so you have to—”

  He grabbed my shoulders and pressed his lips to mine.

  His stubble was wonderfully rough on my chin and cheeks. His lips were impossibly soft as they coaxed mine open. Somehow my hands found their way to his shoulders, then to his hair. One of his hands slid down the center of my back, pressing my stomach to his hips.

  Alright, so he’s not a bad kisser, I thought, right before that sensual, teasing kiss turned into the most erotic experience I’d ever had up until that point in my life. I let go of everything. Even reservations I didn’t know I had. I became something wild that only felt, something that didn’t even care about anything other than the sensations he evoked from me. It should have horrified me, disgusted me, but I’d already sunk too deep to care.

  “Emily?” he whispered, gently pushing on my shoulders. I moaned. Why was he trying to
stop me? I kissed harder.

  “Emily,” he repeated, straightening his arms to forcibly separate us.

  “What?” I panted.

  “I think I should walk you home.”

  Suddenly I was aware of the fact that we were making out in the middle of the green only a hundred feet from the party I should have been catering.

  I had a choice. I could stop this now. I could return to sanity. I could send him back to that party. I could return to my job. This dark, dangerous thing between us did not need to continue.

  But instead of doing the right thing—the sane thing—I grabbed his hand and took off for my apartment.

  Chapter 5

  One of the best things about Jack was that he could keep up with me. I grabbed hold of him and didn’t stop, running like the devil himself was behind me. In retrospect, I guess he was. But this was a devil who didn’t slow me down, and who was willing to give me what I needed.

  I should have known that would only make him more dangerous.

  I almost tripped as I dashed up the stone steps to the aging apartment building. Most of the rooms were vacant because they were filled with caterers and probably would be for a while. A lot of them were going to a local bar after the party. Sophie wasn’t home and I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t even return tonight. Which means I might have all night…

  My hands trembled as I fished the keys out of my pocket. I almost dropped them when I unsuccessfully tried to stab them into the lock.

  “Sorry.” My voice was softer than the jangling keys. He was leaning against the outer wall, looking down at me, blocking out the porch light.

  “Nothing to be sorry about, Emily.”

  I returned my attention to the door, trying to steady my breath, not wanting to read the expression in his eyes. Was I really going to do this? Did I really want to do this? Alright, the second question was stupid. I’d wanted to pretty much since…well, since he stripped down next to me at the pool, but I didn’t want to think of myself as that kind of girl and…oh God, it was hard thinking of him when he was this close.

  The key finally slid in the lock, I turned it and kicked the sticky door open.

  The room was small. The orange rug hadn’t been replaced in a long time. No furniture had come with the unit, so Sophie and I had taken a coffee table from a dumpster a few blocks away. The previous owner had left a mattress. I tried not to think of what they did on it as I crossed the room, just as I’m sure whoever lived here after us would try not to think of it.

  I slid out of my shirt and tossed it over a broken computer chair in the corner. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him do the same. God, he was so beautiful. A Greek God with hair like spun gold and buttery skin. I’d compared him to the summer night sky earlier, but really, he seemed even above that—an immortal that could only exist in sunlight but was somehow bound to earth.

  I felt like I’d captured him. Like I’d stolen him. I felt the unspoken distance between the two of us. I didn’t know his family situation, of course, but I wasn’t stupid. He was at the wedding between one of the top bankers in New England and the daughter of a socialite. He’d rescued me from Big Bill like a prince, but he was a prince with selfish intentions. He was used to getting what he wanted. He was wealthy. He wasn’t for me. I couldn’t keep him.

  I bent over and hooked my fingers behind the heels of my shoes, slipping them off with my tennis socks. I can’t believe I’d brought him here. I should have gone to his place, but then again, he probably didn’t want the help dirtying his bed.

  I cringed. Why did I think of myself like that? I was more than that. Even if he didn’t know it, I did. I couldn’t afford to fall into bad habits right now, or to remember the past. Tonight was about forgetting. Releasing. Indulging in a fantasy with heaven before returning to the world of scholarships and barely scraping by each month. Of slowly building a life for myself. Of fighting for each piece of happiness I was able to grasp.

  He put his hand on my shoulder, rubbed my back. He said nothing and I said nothing as I stood. His eyes softened as he ran his rough hands down the sides of my neck, beneath the first button of my shirt. Goosebumps flared across my skin as he brought his other hand to my chest to unbutton the first button.

  “Careful. They’re a little flimsier than they look.” I couldn’t believe my voice sounded like that. I couldn’t believe I was really doing this. He stepped closer, his right foot sliding between my feet. He hadn’t taken off his shoes, and the leather felt as smooth as polished obsidian against my skin.

  He bent down, his lips resting on my hairline. “You’re beautiful.”

  My shoulders tightened. He leaned back to get a good look at my face. I don’t know what he saw there. I don’t want to know, either, but it made his eyes soften. “We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

  I put my hands on his and guided them to the next button. “I know.”

  “We can hang out, watch TV.”

  “We don’t have a TV,” I told him as his hand slipped beneath my shirt undoing the next button. There was only a dark rectangle over the faded wallpaper in the corner where a TV had been.

  “We can just sit and talk —”

  “I don’t want to sit, or talk,” I interrupted. My chest started to heave.

  His eyes darkened. “Are you sure?”

  I felt his gaze go straight through me. I wondered if he could see everything at that moment—my hesitance and fear, and the source of it—how desperately I wanted to do something for myself—how much I needed this moment, whatever it was, so I could bury those nightmares in my past. I wondered if he saw my prejudice—how I’d thought him to be shallow the moment I realized his wealth—how I was too afraid to ask him to prove me wrong.

  “Emily, do you want to—”

  “Yes,” I interrupted, tightening my grip on his strong wrists. I’d seen his muscles already. I’d felt them beneath me when I fell on him at the beach. I wanted to feel them hold me, feel them strain as he slid into me and against me.

  His breathing quickened too as he slid his hand down the center of my stomach, popping off the rest of the buttons. I was about to remind him I’d asked him to be careful, but in all honesty I didn’t give a fuck. It was my last day on the job. The last day of my old life before I began anew.

  His hands kept going after my shirt was open, over my skirt, pushing it down until it fell on its own to my ankles. Before I could step out of it he rushed forward, pinning me to the wall with his strong hands as his mouth found mine.

  I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t that. I’d always thought that comparing a touch to poetry was gauche, but there was something about his touch that was as subtle and elegant as a haiku. He grip tightened, and I felt it vibrating through me.

  His hands slid down my chest to my stomach. He pushed my skirt over my shoulders but it couldn’t slide off, not when he had me against the wall. I pushed forward and yanked my shirt down the best as I could as his hands reached behind me and unhooked my bra.

  He was done before I was. He must have had a lot of practice. I tried not to think too hard about that, and then his lips found my jaw and suddenly it was really easy to not think too hard about anything at all.

  I moaned and ran my fingers over his bare chest, enjoying his strength and restraint, the tenderness with which he held me. It felt strange that he should be so careful, so kind. He didn’t have the body of a patient man, and his hands and mouth seemed to anticipate my every desire, satiating it before I even knew it existed, then moving to the next place, building my need until my body’s ache almost overtook my bliss.

  I arched my back, brushing against his erection. He groaned and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his back as he carried me over to the bed and fell on top of me.

  “Um,” I whispered, “I don’t have, I mean, I didn’t expect, uh…”

  He pushed himself off, his knees on either side of my body as that godly torso stood in front of me. He
reached into his back pocket and pulled out a condom. He ripped it open with a confidence that made me uneasy. I didn’t want to think about the kind of unattached guy who carried around condoms in his back pocket on the night one of his friends got married. I mean, he couldn’t have been expecting this. And…and…

  He unzipped his pants and slid the rubber over his shaft. “Emily.”

  I didn’t realize I was hugging my chest until he said my name.

  “Look at me,” he said, and slowly I met his gaze. I couldn’t believe how brilliant his blue eyes were in the dark. They should have been colorless, like the rest of the room, gray and beige.