by Jewel E. Ann
“I see. Makes sense. So what are you doing this summer? Getting ready for college?”
“I’m taking a gap year.” There it was. My go-to. “But this summer, I’m working for a construction company doing random things in the office or delivering lunch to the crew.”
“Sounds…” he smirked “…fun.”
“It’s interesting. Fun? Probably not.”
“Do you like your boss?”
“What?” My head snapped up from the menu. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Uh …” His eyes rolled quickly to one side and then the other. “Just making conversation.”
I relaxed my defensive posture. “Sorry. Yeah. He’s nice. He’s actually my mom’s landlord. It’s his house. He lives on the main level. And he was kind enough to offer me a summer job.”
“That’s a cool situation.”
I nodded. It was cool. And sexy. And my newest obsession.
“So … what do you do?” I asked. “I assume since you’re twenty-four, you must be out of college, if you went.”
“I went.” He nodded while studying his menu. “I just graduated from law school, actually.”
“Can you be a lawyer at twenty-four?”
He laughed. “If you graduated high school a year early. Yes. You can.”
“Wow. Brainy.”
Brendon set his menu down and shook his head. I was pretty sure that was a blush on his face. “Good memory. That’s all.”
“Photographic?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve never been officially tested. I can read quite quickly too. My dad died when I was in fifth grade. And my mom spent all of her time working to put me and my sisters through school, so we didn’t spend a whole lot of time figuring me out. And we didn’t have a lot of money, so I spent more time reading than watching the single television we had in the house. No cellphone until I earned money to buy my own and pay for a plan. No computer outside of the ones we used in school. No video games. Pretty boring, huh?”
I felt an instant connection to Brendon in that moment. “Well, my dad died too. Three years ago. Then I moved to Texas to live with my grandparents until I graduated. I didn’t have a phone either until I bought my own … which my grandparents didn’t let me do until I was eighteen. So I’ve literally had a cell phone for less than a year. Now who’s boring?”
“Really?” Brendon smiled as if my confession, albeit a little sad and pathetic, made him feel some joy.
“However, we did have a computer in the house. I had one from the school that we could bring home. So it’s not like I didn’t have internet access even if it was monitored for appropriate content.” My nose wrinkled.
“No internet porn for you.”
That made my face heat a bit. Just the word porn did that. “No.” I returned a nervous laugh. But I had seen porn. Once … okay twice. My friend Kat lived with her dad, and her dad worked nights so he was always sleeping during the day. Kat thought it was fun to check out her dad’s browser history on the computer; he wasn’t only paying bills and ordering socks from Amazon while Kat and her younger brother were at the Christian academy. Worth noting too … he taught the teen’s Sunday school class at church.
“Have you taken the bar exam?”
“Nope. I’ve taken a job with a law firm here in Denver, and they’re adamant about helping me study for it. But honestly …” He winked. It wasn’t a Fisher wink, but it was still adorable in its own way. “I’ve got this.”
Confidence.
Man … what I wouldn’t give to have had even half of his confidence. And direction. That was it more than anything. A sense of direction imparted a certain level of confidence. I didn’t know if gap-year kids had as much confidence.
We ordered food and chatted for over an hour. Brendon’s mom lived just outside of Chicago. And his two younger sisters still lived there too.
“Enough about me. Tell me about your mom? Why were you living with your grandparents after your dad died?”
“My mom had some … issues after the divorce. So my dad had custody of me. Then my grandparents stepped in after he died because my mom was still not able to take care of me.”
Why did I lie? I didn’t know. Out of all the people I should have been honest with, Brendon was at the top. He was a Christian, which meant he would not have judged me. (Yes, I realized that thought held zero actual truth.) He wasn’t trying to date me, so I had no need to impress him. And I’d been upfront about my mom’s situation with so many other people before him. I don’t even remember making the conscious decision to lie to him. My mouth started moving, and it took a bit for my brain to process the automated lie.
“So how is it now … with your mom? Are things weird?”
“Well, that’s hard to answer. I no sooner arrived and she left for L.A. to do some salon training. She’ll be home in a few days.”
“You must be excited about that?”
Was I excited? Rory home equaled things ending with Fisher.
“Sure.” I smiled, but it barely bent my lips.
After he bought my lunch, in which I argued because it wasn’t a date, we climbed back into the car and started to pull out of the parallel parking spot and into traffic.
“Show me where you live.”
“Why?” I laughed through some uncontrolled nerves. My goal that day was to avoid going home for as long as possible.
Brendon shrugged. “Sunday afternoon drive. It’s a great neighborhood. And when you mentioned you lived close by, it piqued my curiosity.”
Scraping my teeth along my bottom lip a few times, I nodded slowly. “Okay. We can do a drive-by.”
It took less than three minutes to get to the house. I slowed down, but not much. “That’s it, right there.”
“Wow … wait … slow down. The view from the back has to be spectacular.”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Reese.” He laughed. “Seriously, are you not going to stop? Can I see the back of the house?”
“Not a good idea.” I slowed down a little more. Arnie’s Escalade was gone and the garage doors were shut.
“Why? Because you don’t really live here?”
“What?” I stopped the car. “Of course I live here. You think I’m lying?”
He smirked. “There’s only one way to find out.”
“Gah. Fine!” I pulled along the side of the street and hopped out. “Let’s go in back.”
Brendon followed me around to the back of the house.
“Happy now?”
Slipping his hands into his pockets, he nodded. His blue eyes bright and the gel in his hair reflecting the sunlight. “Not unless we go inside.”
“Are you serious?”
“Are you serious?” He shot back at me.
I couldn’t hide my smile, so I rolled my eyes and led him to the door. “See?” I said as the key fit the lock and I opened the door.
“Yeah, I see. You weren’t lying.” He followed me into the basement. “This is huge. And really nice. When you said you were living in a basement, I think it conjures images of dinky spaces with no light, cobwebs, and a growling furnace. This is by far nicer than any place I’ve ever lived.” He milled around the space, running his fingers along the edge of the pool table. “You play?”
I had used the pool table, just not for pool.
“A little.”
“Then let’s play.” He grabbed two sticks and handed one to me.
Midway through our game, the door upstairs opened and footsteps followed. Brendon shot me a narrowed-eyed glance. Of course, he had to be thinking … who would be coming down the stairs? Surely, I locked the door. Right?
Wrong.
You didn’t lock the door when you secretly hoped your landlord would sneak down with a condom so you didn’t have to stay stuck at an eighty-percent virgin status.
“Hey,” Fisher said coming to an abrupt halt at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?” I pretended
that his uninvited trip downstairs was no big deal.
Was he coming downstairs to take the rest of my virginity? I thought a million things along that line.
“I’m Fisher.” He ignored me and made his way to the pool table with his hand held out for Brendon.
“Brendon.” My non-date friend shook Fisher’s hand. “You have an amazing house.”
“Thanks.” Fisher shot me a quick glance.
I bit my lips together for a second before realizing we were suspended in silence. “Fisher built this house. He’s really amazing.”
“It’s great, man. Really incredible.” Brendon rested the end of his pool stick on the floor and leaned into it casually.
“Thanks,” Fisher said once again while shooting me another glance, this time with his head slightly canted and an unusual look in his eyes. “I think that’s the first time you’ve complimented me on my skills.”
My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “Oh? I don’t know about that. Did you …” I dropped my pool stick on the ground with my fidgety hands, and it made an embarrassing clank. “Uh …” I quickly retrieved it. “Did you …” I totally forgot what I was going to say or ask.
“Did I …?”
“Uh … need something?”
The smile that swelled on Fisher’s face was almost too much to handle without wearing more absorbent panties. “Yeah, I needed something, but it can wait until you don’t have company.”
Brendon’s cool expression morphed into something a little more uncomfortable like he sensed a third-wheel feeling.
“Was it about work?” I made an effort to normalize the situation.
“No,” Fisher said slowly, as slowly as he shook his head, as slowly as he made me weak in the knees.
“Did you hear from my mom?”
“No …” He dragged out another long, torturous no.
“Oh … I know. Duh. I was going to show you where water’s getting into the back room.”
Fisher lifted a single brow. I ignored him, handing Brendon my pool stick. “Be right back.” I marched to the back room with Fisher right behind me. As soon as he shut the door, I turned.
“Who’s your friend? Your introduction skills are not up to par. I know his name is Brendon and he likes my house. Care to elaborate now?”
“No. Why did you come downstairs?” I took one step then another toward him, my hands itching to touch him, my eyes disappointed that he was wearing a T-shirt. “Did you bring a condom?”
A half grin formed on his sexy, scruffy face. “No. Give your innocence to Brendon. I’m not in the business of pissing off my friends. And if I were you, I’d look for a new church. The sermon has already worn off. You’re looking for sin just hours after crossing the threshold of the church’s doors.”
“Who’s your friend?” I fisted his shirt, telling my unwise heart to ignore his comment about giving myself to Brendon or his rambling about finding a new church.
“Rory.” He kept his hands to himself and eyed me with caution.
“Rory is your tenant.”
“And my friend.”
“So you thought she’d be good with you only inserting the tip?” I could barely say those words without burning up.
“You’re a temptress. A typical church girl playing the innocent role. You should be truly ashamed.”
“Fisher?”
He waited a second to respond, but when his gaze fell to my lips, I knew I had him. “What?”
“Are you going to kiss me?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Don’t think.”
Wetting his lips as his grin hit full capacity, he said, “I never do when I’m with you.” Then he slid his hand to the back of my neck and kissed me. The knuckles of his other hand brushed my cheek. His touch so gentle—too gentle. It felt different. And maybe it was just my foolish heart hoping for more, but it didn’t feel like a purely physical moment.
“Send your friend home,” he murmured over my lips. “I want you all to myself.”
“I can’t. I have to drive him.” I pulled back, releasing his shirt as he released my neck.
“Did you pick him up at church?”
“His car was pinned in, and we wanted to go to lunch before the crowd flooded the parking lot.”
“A date?”
I started to respond but stopped just as quickly. “Why? Do you have a problem with me dating him?”
Say yes, Fisher. Just please say yes.
He twisted his lips, like his silence twisted my heart. “No.”
Fisher … why?
“Well, it wasn’t a date.” I shoved his chest, forcing him to move out of my way. “But thanks for reminding me how little this means to you.”
“Reese …”
I opened the door, tipped my chin up, and plastered a smile on my face. “Sorry. Problem solved. Now … where were we? Was it my turn?”
“Yes.” Brendon handed me my pool stick as I ignored Fisher’s exit from the utility room.
“Nice meeting you, Brendon. You two have fun.”
I clenched my jaw, trying to hide my slight wince at his words while keeping my back to him.
“Thanks. Nice meeting you too.”
It was really nice that they got along so well. Brendon didn’t want to date me because I was too young for him. And Fisher didn’t want my virginity because he wasn’t in that business anymore. I felt a little rejected.
After Brendon won three games in a row, I drove him back to the church.
“Thanks for lunch. Again, I would have paid for mine.”
He opened his door. “It was my pleasure.” Pausing for a second he narrowed his eyes and lifted his gaze to mine. “What if…” he pressed his lips together, again pausing for a second “…our age difference didn’t really matter? What if we did this again, but we called it a date?”
“A date?” I echoed in a soft tone just before taking a hard swallow. “I … well … maybe we can discuss it next weekend after church.”
“Discuss it?” He laughed a little. “Wow, you really take dating seriously. Since we both have cell phones now, how about we exchange numbers and discuss it this week before church next Sunday?”
I thought about Fisher. Then, I thought about Rory before nodding. With his number and several social media follows, he grinned and closed the door. At any other time in my life, I would have been thrilled to have met Brendon. He was closer to my age. Employed. And he attended church. I also felt certain that he wasn’t a crude talker.
On the way home, I gave myself a pep talk. It involved ignoring Fisher until Monday morning. Eating dinner alone. And going to bed early with a book or my current crossword puzzle.
So much for pep talks …
The second I climbed out of Rory’s car, I marched straight to his front door and rang the doorbell. A few seconds later, he opened the door, eyeing me from head to toe before stepping back and silently inviting me into his domain.
“So … you won’t take my virginity.” It felt weird having that conversation because he’d said something so eerily similar to me. “What will you take from me?”
With a contemplative expression that seemed to border on the painful side, he whispered, “Let’s start with your clothes.”
I wondered … I wondered so hard when he made the decision to draw a line. He knew as well as I did that Rory wouldn’t be okay with anything we had done together. It wasn’t just me pushing lines and bending rules to serve my own needs and desires; Fisher did it too.
I just didn’t know why. He could have had Angie or Teagan or a million other women meeting his sexual needs.
Why me?
Why seek something you know you won’t conquer … out of choice?
So many thoughts stirred in my head, but they didn’t stop my hands from sliding my shoulders and arms out of my romper, letting it drop to the floor.
That confused and painful expression remained affixed to Fisher’s face until he met my gaze. Then it vanished, leavi
ng the Fisher I knew all too well.
Cocky.
Confident.
Unapologetically crude.
“Shoes.”
I slipped out of my shoes.
“Bra.”
Reaching both hands behind me, I unhooked my bra and let it slide down my chest and arms. He focused on my bare breasts, on my erect nipples.
After the bra landed on the floor at my feet with my romper, I reached for my panties.
“No.” He inched his head side to side. “Leave them on. Turn that way. And walk slowly to my bedroom.”
There I was, following Fisher off the side of the mountain. Did he know I would do anything for him? Did he know what that meant?
Turning, I feigned confidence and made the slow walk down the hallway to his bedroom.
“Stop.”
I stopped because he told me to stop.
“Turn around.”
I turned around, centered at the threshold to his bedroom.
Fisher took his time making his way to me, slowly peeling off his shirt, leaving him in bare feet and exercise shorts. When he reached the doorway, he pressed his hands to the wood frame. “Put your hands below mine.”
Eyeing his hands for a few seconds, I pressed my hands to the frame. “W-why?”
“Because.” He kneeled in front of me. “Your knees will want to give out soon.” Sliding his hands to the back of my legs, he moved my hips toward his face, stopping with his mouth just above the waist of my panties. “Can I kiss you here?”
I couldn’t speak. Swallowing and breathing heavily became a full-time job. Fisher pressed his mouth to my skin and glanced up at me.
I nodded.
He kissed lower. “Here?”
I nodded, gripping the wood with anticipation. My knees were already weak.
His lips descended another inch or more. There. He was right there. A whooshing sound—a thumping that matched my ever-escalating heartbeat—made it hard to hear anything else.
“Here?”
I barely heard him, but I still nodded.
Fisher pressed a soft kiss over my panties. Then his grip on my legs tightened, and he kissed me a little harder, sucking some of the thin cotton into his mouth. Biting it. And tugging it. Exposing part of my flesh.