by HELEN HARDT
He laughed. “Heavy metal zombies? That’s rich.”
“Whatever. Why aren’t you out with your girlfriend?”
“Michelle’s out of town for the weekend. Some wedding or something.”
“And there’s absolutely nothing else for you to do than bother me?”
He smiled, flashing his dimple. “I wanted to see you. I have some questions about math.”
“Call me tomorrow, then.”
“I’m here now. Come on, please?”
The microwave dinged.
“My pizza.”
“You have pizza? Sounds great.” He walked through the door.
“Leftover pizza, and it’s only two pieces.”
“We’ll order one then. My treat.”
“Brett—”
“Fresh pizza’s way better than microwaved leftovers.”
I couldn’t argue there. “Your treat?”
“Sure.” He pulled out his wallet and leafed through it. “I’ve got a twenty.”
“And you want to spend it on pizza?”
“Sure, why not? A guy’s got to eat.”
What the heck? I’d eat his pizza, help him with his math, and then politely tell him to leave. Deb and Bruce wouldn’t be home until well after midnight. Shouldn’t be a problem.
“There.” I pointed to the phone on the end table. “Call for the pizza. I’ll get us something to drink.”
I headed to the kitchen and poured another glass of iced tea. “You want sugar in your iced tea?”
“No. Plain’s fine.”
“Okay.” I hastily returned the leftover pizza slices to the fridge.
I walked back into the living room. Brett was sprawled on the couch looking right at home. Such a beautiful masculine specimen. If only he weren’t an asshole.
“All right,” I said, sitting next to him. “What seems to be the trouble with your math?”
“Okay, I don’t get the whole negative number thing.”
“What don’t you get about it?”
“How come when you times two negatives together, you get a positive?”
I sighed. I didn’t get that either. And for me, someone who needed logic in my life, that didn’t sit well. But I’d learned to just accept the rules, apply them, and get the right answer.
“Who cares why that’s the case? Just memorize the rule, Brett, and then use it. You’ll get the right answer.”
“But it doesn’t make sense. And then when you times a negative and a positive, you get a negative.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know the rules. Just use them. That’s all you need to know.”
“But I want to understand why.”
I wanted to understand too. But I didn’t, and it frustrated me. Which was a huge reason why I was not majoring in math in college.
“Maybe there is no reason, Brett. Maybe someone just made that up to confuse math students.”
“There’s got to be a reason.”
“God… Okay, do you have any graph paper?”
“Nope.”
“We need to make a number line.”
“I stopped making number lines in sixth grade, Kath.”
“Humor me. Get some notebook paper and draw some vertical lines so we have graph paper.”
“Okay.” He complied. “Why are we doing this again?”
“Because I don’t know the answer to your question.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
“How can you be so good at math, then?”
“Because I learn the rules. I follow them. I get the right answer. I don’t have to understand why.”
“Wow. I never would have thought…”
“Well, I never would have thought you’d care about why the rules of math are what they are. I’d have thought you just wanted to get your C and play baseball.”
“I do.”
“Don’t worry. You will, with me tutoring you.”
He smiled. “I know.”
“You got your graph paper ready?”
“Yup.” He handed it to me.
I quickly wrote out a number line starting in the middle with zero and going horizontally and vertically into positive and negative integers.
“Okay. Now, what is your exact question?”
“Well, positive numbers are numbers greater than zero, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And negative numbers are less than zero.”
“Right.”
“When you add two positives together, you get a positive.”
“Yup.”
“And when you add two negatives you get a negative.”
“You got it so far.”
“It makes sense so far. When you multiply two positives you get a positive. I don’t get why you wouldn’t get a negative when you multiply two negatives. I mean, when you think about it, multiplying is just adding, only adding more than once, you know? So if you get negative when you add two negatives, why don’t you get negative when you multiply two negatives?”
Wow. Impressive. He’d really thought this out. Determination gripped me. I’d find the answer for him. Clearly, he understood the concepts of addition and multiplication and how they were related. There had to be a reason for this stupid rule. There just had to be.
“Okay, let’s look at two times two.” I drew a line two blocks to the right horizontally from zero and then two blocks upward vertically from zero. “If we tie these together with coordinates, we get a volume of four on the graph, see?”
“Yeah.”
“Now if we do the same with negative two times negative two—” I drew a line two blocks to the left side from zero and then two blocks downward from zero. I shaded in the area. “It’s still a volume of four. See?”
“Yeah. But I still don’t get it.”
I scoffed. “To tell you the truth, neither do I. Did you order the pizza yet?”
“Yeah. While you were getting the drinks.”
“Okay, let’s think of how multiplication works. Two times two means two sets of two, right?”
“Yeah. And two sets of two would be four.”
“Good. And you understand why two times negative two is negative four?”
“Yeah, of course. Two sets of negative two would be negative four. That makes sense.”
“Good. It makes sense to me, too. So really, all we need to do is figure out why negative two sets of negative two equals positive four.”
“Yup.”
“Okay, no problem.” I rolled my eyes. “Would you like to know about the existence of God or the meaning of life? That might be easier.”
Brett laughed. Oh, he had an attractive, husky laugh. I sighed.
“Do you have any math homework you need help with? Maybe when the pizza comes we can tackle this question. I work better on a full stomach.”
Brett laughed again. “Me too. Yeah, here’s my homework assignment. Can you check it for me?”
I went through the problems with him and found he had done a pretty good job. Just as I finished helping him with the corrections, the doorbell rang and the pizza arrived.
“The iced tea’s gone, and Deb doesn’t have any pop. We should have ordered some Coke,” I said.
“No problem. Ice water’s fine.” He winked. “She does have ice, doesn’t she?”
My heart skipped a beat. He’d actually winked at me! “I think so. I’ll get us some. And some plates and napkins. Give me a sec.”
“I’ll be right here.”
When I returned Brett had already polished off a piece of pizza.
“You must be hungry,” I said.
“Always. Here.” He handed me a piece.
I took a bite and set it on a plate.
“So I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“About what?”
“About our positive and negative problem.”
“This is really bugging you, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. And I have no idea why.”
“It bugs me too
, and I know exactly why. Because I like to know why. Evidently you do, too.”
“I guess so. I never really thought I cared about math. About anything regarding school. I guess I do.”
“That’s not a bad thing, Brett.”
“Maybe not. I would like to keep this scholarship. Not that I’m looking forward to four more years of school, but it’s better than going to work right now.”
“In college, you can find answers to lots more questions.”
“I suppose. Of course, Michelle thinks we’re getting married. If I go to college, I can put off marrying her.”
“Do you want to put off marrying her?”
“Yeah. No. I don’t know.”
“You’re only eighteen. It’s not a sin to want to put off marriage for a while. I sure don’t want to get married right now.”
“But you have a future.”
“What kind of talk is that? You have a future too.”
“I might if I can keep this scholarship.”
“You have a future anyway. It’s what you make of it that matters.”
“I don’t want to end up like my dad. Going nowhere in a nowhere job.”
“I heard he had an accident. I’m sorry.”
“He’ll live, but he’s on disability for the rest of his life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You already said that.” He smiled.
“I know. I don’t know what else to say. I understand, though, why you want to get your math grade up. You want that scholarship.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You’ve done well. I think you’ll be okay. I can continue to meet with you after school.”
“But we still need to figure out the answer to our question.”
“What question?”
“Why a negative times a negative equals a positive.”
“Okay, Brett. But we don’t have to figure it out tonight.” I took a bite of pizza.
“Why can’t we? I’m here. You’re here. With my curiosity and your brain, we ought to be able to handle it.”
“Okay.” I swallowed and took a sip of water. “Let’s do some analysis then. We understand why two positives equal a positive, and why a negative and a positive equal a negative.”
“Yep.”
“So we need to think about why two negatives equal a positive.” I inhaled. “I’m stumped.”
“I feel a little better if it stumps you, too. You’re the smartest person I know.”
Heat crept up my neck. He’d said that before. “Am I?” It wasn’t like me to be coy, but I couldn’t help it.
“Yep, you always have been. I thought for sure you’d know the answer to this.”
“Maybe we can figure it out together.”
He smiled. “I’d like that.” He looked at the graph I’d made. “I wonder…”
“What?”
“Well, you know in English, like a double negative.”
Brett Falcone knew what a double negative was? “Yeah. What are you getting at?”
“Like we said, negative two times two is like having two sets of negative two which is negative four, right?”
“So having negative two sets of negative two would be a double negative, right? So that would make it positive.”
“Oh my God.” I shook my head as a light bulb lit. Had the Italian Stallion truly figured this out? “You’re saying that having negative two sets of negative two would be like having two sets of two.”
“Yeah. The double negative makes it a positive.”
“Oh my God,” I said again. “That actually makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Yes, Brett, it does!” I jumped up. “If you didn’t have two sets of negative two, you’d have two sets of positive two, which would equal the same thing. You’re right, it’s a double negative! And that explains why it shows a positive volume on the graph.”
I picked up the paper and stared at it, awestruck. Brett Falcone was not stupid. Mr. Phillips was right. He was intelligent. He just didn’t know it. Very intelligent. And very, very attractive to me right now.
“Amazing. If you had two sets of two, you’d have four. If you lost two sets of two, you’d have negative four. But if you lost two sets of not having two, the double negative results in gaining four. You’re a genius, Brett! A genius!”
My heart soared. Knowledge was such a beautiful thing. Emotion swelled within me, and before I could think about what I was doing, I pulled Brett up from the couch and wrapped my arms around him.
And before I knew what was happening, his lips came down on mine.
5
“You haven’t changed a bit, Kath,” Brett said when I opened the door.
Neither had he. In fact, he looked even better than he had twenty years ago. He was no longer a boy. He was a man. A very handsome, sexy, hot man. My body quivered.
I let out a shaky laugh. “I have a few wrinkles that say otherwise. And the gray hairs.”
“I don’t see any gray hairs.”
“Only my hair stylist knows for sure,” I quipped.
“Well, you look beautiful. You were always beautiful.”
“Even in middle school?”
He frowned. “I thought we’d gotten past that.”
I nodded. What had I been thinking, dredging up that horrible time that we’d gotten past long ago? “I’m sorry. Truly. We got past that twenty years ago. I’m just a little nervous, to be honest.”
“Me too.” He stepped through the door and shut it behind him. “Let’s just get this out of the way then.”
He gripped my neck, pulled me into his arms, and lowered his mouth to mine.
His lips—so firm yet so soft at the same time—glided over mine provocatively, grazing at first, barely touching. He traced first my upper and then my lower lip with his tongue. I squirmed. Oh, to be kissed like this again. By Brett Falcone. The one true love of my life. Could it actually be happening?
I would awaken any minute. Slide from the passion of this nocturnal fantasy…
He pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of my mouth and chuckled huskily. “You do remember how to kiss, don’t you Kath?”
I couldn’t help but smile, remembering our first kiss. My first kiss ever, where he taught me what to do, how to respond.
I’d done a lot of kissing since then, but never with anyone who mattered quite as much as the man in my arms now.
“Kiss me, Kath,” he whispered. “Kiss me like you mean it.”
Oh, I meant it. Meant it with all my heart. I parted my lips and met his tongue with gentle, silky strokes.
He tasted of peppermint, of maleness, of memory.
Suddenly I couldn’t hold him close enough, couldn’t kiss him hard enough. As our tongues intertwined, raw guttural moans escaped my throat. I trailed my fingers over his broad, beefy shoulders, his hard chest, plucked open the buttons of his shirt and entwined my fingers in the dark curls covering his pecs. I found a flat nipple, tugged at it, loved how it hardened beneath my fingertips.
And still we kissed, as though we’d never kissed anyone before. He ate at my lips, nibbled, licked, sucked. I returned his passion with equal fervor, drawing his tongue into my mouth and sucking on it. Heat flared between my legs.
God, I was so turned on. More turned on than I’d ever been.
Well, not ever. But not for a very long time.
I wanted him. Wanted him inside me. Wanted to make love with Brett Falcone more than I wanted to breathe.
He broke the kiss and inhaled sharply. “God, Kath.” He rained kisses on my cheeks, my nose, the sensitive flesh of my neck.
I shuddered, and my pussy pulsed. I was wet, so wet. So aroused from just a kiss.
But it wasn’t just a kiss.
It was a kiss from Brett Falcone. The only man I had ever truly loved.
He sucked at my neck while he cupped my breasts through my blouse. My nipples tightened into aching buds that longed for his lips to suck them, kiss them.
As though he read my mind, he tugged my blouse out of my jeans. The hot flesh of his roving fingers burned. Oh, so good.
“So soft,” he whispered. “God, I need to touch you.”
“Touch me,” I whimpered. “Please.”
He reached between my breasts and unsnapped the front closure to my bra. “Mmm. As full as I remember. Fuller even.”
“Having a baby does that,” I said, my voice breathless.
“Your nipples are hard, Kath. So hard. God, I want to suck on them.”
“No one”—I inhaled a sharp breath—“stopping you that I can see.”
“God,” he said again. He lifted my blouse over my head and discarded my bra.
I stood, naked from the waist up, as Brett Falcone’s dark, smoldering gaze burned into my flesh. And burn it did. I was hot, so very hot.
“Still so beautiful,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I always hoped you’d still be as beautiful as the day I first saw you naked, but I never imagined it would be true. You’re amazing, Kath.”
“Take off your shirt,” I said. “I want to see you. Feel you pressed against me. God, Brett. Please.”
His shirt quickly met the floor.
“Saints above.” I breathed in deeply.
His chest was a work of art. Sculpted perfection. Golden skin covered with a smattering of ebony hair. More hair than I remembered. But of course, he had matured quite a bit since then. Two copper coin nipples poked through, their tips hardened and bronze. I reached for them, traced them, and I reveled in his intake of breath as they hardened even further against my questing fingertips.
I roamed downward, to the bulge in his jeans. I cupped it and squeezed.
“Damn, Kath.” He thrust into my hands.
Yes, I’d learned a few tricks since our last time together. Our only time together.
“Are you wet for me?” he asked.
I nodded, still squeezing his hardness through the thick denim. Oh, yes, I was wet. Sopping.
He took my lead and cupped my mound through my jeans, rubbed, found just the right place, and I squirmed. He reached for my zipper.
“I need to feel you. Feel your wetness.”
Tingles raced through me and settled in my pussy. Brett slowly unzipped my pants and then reached under my panties until his hot fingers probed my heat.
“Ah, God. So wet, Kath. So wet for me.”
“For you,” I echoed.