When August Ends (Page 19)

Noah reached out and wiped it with his thumb. “He’s a fool. You deserve so much better than that. He doesn’t even know you. That much was clear to me.”

“Well, I never really let him in.”

“Don’t make excuses for him. It’s not your fault. He’s the parent. You’re the child. It’s his responsibility to make you feel safe and loved, and he’s doing a damn shitty job. He doesn’t realize how lucky he is to have you. My father would’ve killed to have a daughter like you.”

I rubbed my eyes and smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah. He ended up with two cruddy sons, but he always wanted a little girl.”

“He can adopt me.” I laughed. “Nah. Then I’d have an awkward crush on my stepbrother. That would be weird.”

He closed his eyes for a moment.

“I’m kidding,” I said. I wasn’t.

Noah dipped his finger in the chocolate frosting and dabbed it on the tip of my nose.

Once again, a point in time with him had become my happiest moment of the day.

CHAPTER TWELVE

* * *

NOAH

I was becoming more cognizant of the fact that my time at the lake was limited. The property was officially on the market, and today the very first potential buyers were taking a tour.

I ended up clearing the entire kitchen table so I could get the guinea pig cage off the floor. Their cage was a little unsightly for visitors, but they were damn cute. I never had brought them back to Heather’s. I was probably crazy for taking them in permanently, but I was growing attached to their little rodent asses.

I’d told Heather to let me know when someone was coming to see the property, that I could leave the boathouse during the showings. So when she’d called me earlier to tell me someone had made an appointment, I took a ride to a local discount furniture store to kill time.

One of the things missing from the boathouse was a place for people to sit. I thought it might look nice for potential buyers if there was a small sofa there—something other than just the bed to make the space seem like a home, rather than a glorified bedroom. There was barely space for anything else, but there was just enough room to make it work if I moved the bed a certain way. It also crossed my mind that one of the main reasons I never invited Heather inside was because there was no comfortable place for us to sit together except for the bed. By adding a piece of furniture, I could invite her inside without it feeling awkward.

I picked up a small loveseat from the furniture store and loaded it in the back of my truck.

By the time I returned to the boathouse, the showing was over. I could tell they had already been inside because a chair was misplaced.

“How did it go?” I asked the guinea pigs.

I grabbed some chopped cucumbers from the fridge and fed my furry friends with chopsticks. That was always calming for me.

Afterward, I went back out to the truck and set the loveseat up in the corner of the room, right across from the television.

Plopping myself down on it, I remembered it was Heather’s night off. I wondered if I should ask her if she wanted to come over and watch a movie.

Why does the thought of that make my pulse race?

Ever since the morning I’d caught her snooping on me, I hadn’t been able to shake it. As crazy and inappropriate as the whole thing was, her little voyeur act had made it into my fantasies several times since. I couldn’t step into the shower anymore without imagining her outside that window, listening in or even watching while I took care of business. The whole thing was kind of freaky to begin with, because while she had thought I was screwing Kira in the shower that morning, I’d actually been getting off to thoughts of her. Pretty freaking ironic.

I’d almost messed up that day, too. Though I wasn’t going to act on my impulses, I somehow needed her to understand she didn’t need to worry about me and Kira. As fucked-up as it may sound, even if I had an interest in Kira—which I didn’t—I would never do anything to hurt Heather while I was here.

I had needed her to know that, and in the process, I’d lost control of my feelings when I touched her—a poor judgment call that likely confused her. I’d been trying lately to act as “normal” as possible to reverse whatever mixed signals I’d sent her that day. Part of that meant not avoiding her or acting any differently. So I suppose that could be an argument in favor of inviting her over for a movie tonight.

After a half-hour of going back and forth about it, I picked up the phone and dialed her.

“Hey, Noah,” she answered.

“You around tonight?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

Why am I sweating?

“You feel like watching a movie?”

“That’s strange…” she said.

“What’s strange?”

“You’re inviting me inside the boathouse. You never do that.”

No shit.

“Well, I have a spot we can sit now.”

“What do you mean?”

Rubbing my temple, I said, “I bought a small couch.” I intentionally refrained from using the word loveseat.

“You did?”

“I figured it would be nice to have one. You know…for the showings.”

Right.

For the showings.

There was one reason and one reason alone why I’d bought this damn couch, and it had nothing to do with comfort. I wanted more time with her before we went our separate ways. Some nights, it was too muggy to sit outside with all the mosquitos. Even if we couldn’t have more than this platonic friendship, I wanted to be around her for the short amount of time we had left. She made me happy.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine. I got it for a steal.”

“Well, yeah, a movie sounds great. Can Teddy come? He’s been standing by the door wagging his tail. I think he wants to see you.”

“Yeah, Fathead can come, too.”

The dog had been to the boathouse a couple of times since the guinea pigs’ arrival. It seemed he no longer cared about them because the barking had ceased.

“Okay. We’ll be right there,” she said.

The moment I opened the door, I regretted asking her over. Heather looked beautiful—too beautiful to be merely watching a movie. She wore a pink dress with spaghetti straps that left little to the imagination; her nipples pointed through the fabric.

Christ. This is a bad idea.

“Why are you all dressed up?” I asked as the dog jumped all over me.

“It’s my first formal invitation inside the boathouse. I figured it was a special occasion.” She laughed. “No. I was at a baby shower for one of the waitresses earlier. They held it in the back room at Jack Foley’s.”

Relieved, I nodded. “I see.”

She ran over to the new sofa and sat down. “I love it. It’s so plush and comfy!”

Her dress rode up a little as she lay her willowy legs across the length of the loveseat. She was graceful even when casually lounging around.

Yeah. Not sure what I was smoking, thinking having her here like this was going to be okay.

Fathead raced over to join her.

“Teddy approves, too,” she said as she sat up to make room for him. “What are you in the mood for?”

Going down on you.

I swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“What do you want to watch?”

“Oh…haven’t really thought about it. What about you?”

“Something light and funny without sex so I don’t blush watching it with you.” She laughed.

Damn good idea.

“Alright.”

But as she sat there enjoying the new piece of furniture, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Those nipples piercing through her dress taunted me. How I wanted to bite into them, taste her skin. What’s wrong with me? I normally had better control over my thoughts—maybe not in the shower, but at least in her presence. Tonight, though, I couldn’t seem to stop them. Maybe holding everything in for so long had finally made me crazy. I imagined her spread eagle beneath me, screaming in pleasure as I rammed into her tight, little pussy. I imagined my cock down her throat. I imagined my tongue in her asshole while I rubbed her clit and brought her to orgasm over and over. Licking my lips, I could feel myself getting hard. I needed to refocus my brain before she noticed.

When she seemed to catch me staring, I pulled a question out of my ass. “Is that your natural hair color?”

What the heck did I just say?

“Yeah. My father had blond hair before he lost it all. I get it from him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. It’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

We ended up choosing some Reese Witherspoon movie. Even though Heather was looking at the screen, she seemed preoccupied. I knew that, of course, because I still couldn’t take my damn eyes off her.

She nearly caught me again when she suddenly turned to me. “Are you sure I’m doing the right thing?”

I sat up straighter and lowered the volume a little. “About selling the house?”

“Yeah. Now that people are starting to look, it’s getting so real.”

“You don’t have to sell if you really don’t want to, but I do think it’s best for your future.”