When August Ends

“I see,” I said.

“I’m sure you had lots of those after the divorce? Sex-with-no-strings relationships?”

Is she fucking with me? Or is she seriously considering boning this guy?

“A couple,” I answered. “But I don’t prefer them. In my experience, if a woman likes you and tells you she doesn’t want anything more than a hookup, she’s lying. Even those relationships eventually turn into something else. I’ve had so-called no-strings relationships that turned out to be hardly that. It’s a bit of a catch-22, though, because any woman I don’t want more than sex with is probably not worth my time anyway. Maybe it comes with age, but I need to feel something more than just physical attraction to truly enjoy being with someone.”

Her face turned red. “Have you been with anyone since you’ve been here?”

“I think you know the answer to that. You’ve seen me almost every night.”

“I guess that’s true. And I intercepted the one whore who wanted to change that.”

“There was nothing to intercept, because as I’ve told you before, she’s not my type.”

She cocked her head. “So, what is your type, then?”

I wanted to tell her the truth, that lately I only had one type, and that was Heather Chadwick—beautiful, young, wide-eyed, honest Heather Chadwick, whom I wanted to protect with every ounce of my soul as much as I wanted to taint her.

“I don’t have a type.”

“You just said Kira wasn’t your type. That means you have a type.”

Shit.

I did say that, didn’t I? I was losing my mind, and I knew exactly why.

“I don’t know what my type is…but I know what my type is not. Her.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

I’d thought she was done with her inquisition, but then she asked, “So, you haven’t been with anyone in a while?”

“That’s an interesting way of asking me the last time I had sex.”

Her cheeks pinked. “You don’t have to tell me.”

She’s fucking adorable. And nosy.

It felt like forever. I actually had to think about it. “May.”

“So the month before you came here…”

“Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“It wasn’t anything serious. Just someone—”

“Someone you fuck.”

Jesus Christ. Hearing her say that word made my dick go rigid. I hoped to God she didn’t say it again. At the same time, I wanted her to say it again.

“I haven’t had a serious relationship since the divorce. She was someone I thought I had an understanding with, but like I said, in my experience, that’s a slippery slope. She started to expect more from me. It’s hard to find someone who’s not interested in something more.”

“Because the women end up falling for you.”

“Or just wanting more, yeah.”

“They fall in love with you, Noah,” she said matter-of-factly.

She could see right through me.

I needed to change the subject, but I was curious about her, too. This might be my only opportunity to bring it up. Fuck it.

“Since you’ve given me the third degree, I think it’s only fair I return the favor. What about you?”

“I’ve only had sex with Eric.”

Wow. Given how sexually charged she was, that kind of surprised me. But I suspected she wasn’t the type of girl who gave it up to anyone if her heart wasn’t in it—which was why I wasn’t sure I believed her little sex-with-no-strings act at all.

“So it’s been a long time.”

She smiled. “Are you thinking the drought explains some of my behavior earlier this summer? Because that wouldn’t be entirely true. I’ve never acted like that before, never asserted myself like that with anyone.”

That made me happy inside, which was messed-up. Whatever I was feeling, I had to get over it. I couldn’t be anything more than a friend and mentor to this girl, especially now that she was finally on the right path. She looked up to me, believed in me. She didn’t need a grown man who couldn’t control his feelings or his dick messing with her emotions right now. I’d be leaving at the end of the month, and regardless of how strong my feelings had grown toward her, I had to stick it out, not get carried away, and stand my ground, even if I felt that ground crumbling beneath me.

Oh! I hadn’t given her the present I’d bought for her. Presenting it now would be a good way to escape this conversation about sex. After our talk earlier, I’d worried it might make her sad if it reminded her of her sister. But ultimately, I needed to give it to her.

I walked over to a drawer and took out the box. “I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

I handed it to her, and my heart raced as she opened it. I’d searched a long time for the right one.

When she took the figurine out of the packaging, she covered her mouth. “Oh my God.”

“I know you said you stopped collecting them some years back. I assumed it was because whatever hope they gave you disappeared after your sister died. Am I right?”

Seeming a little choked up, she nodded. “Yes.”

“This one is called Merry Wanderer.”

Heather ran her fingers along the ceramic. “Oh, I know. It’s famous. I’ve always wanted it.”

I smiled. “Really?”

“Yes.”

This particular Hummel featured a little boy with a suitcase and umbrella, headed out on an adventure.

“I figured he could remind you of me, the wanderer who passed through town that one summer. So my choosing it was a little selfish.”

“This is so perfect.” She hugged it to her chest.

“Don’t ever feel guilty about being happy. Your sister would want you to be happy. Collect the Hummels. Live your life.”

Tears sprung to her eyes as she leaned in and wrapped her arms around me. Just like the last time she’d done this, my heart hammered against my chest. I was completely aware of her soft breasts pressed against me, completely aware of my body reacting in a way that was absolutely opposite of what should have been happening. I prayed my erection would subside. Heather was too damn astute. She would notice that shit.

She pulled back to look in my eyes. “This really means a lot. Thank you for this entire night. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.”

I’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in my life. “You’re welcome,” I told her.

She suddenly yawned, and small beads of spit sprayed out of her mouth.

“Oh my gosh! I just squirted.”

The moment she realized what she’d said, her entire face froze before it turned beet red. It was like time stopped for a few seconds.

I sure as fuck wasn’t going to touch her “squirting” with a ten-foot pole, although I couldn’t say I totally minded the visual it brought on.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

Ah. She’s going to escape the embarrassment.

“You don’t even have to ask.”

“Thanks.”

After a few minutes, she emerged. “I think all of the alcohol and sugar did me in. I’m not feeling so great. Do you mind if I lie down for a bit?”

“No. Of course not.”

Heather made her way over to my bed and sank her head into the pillow.

My chest tightened at the sight of her. I longed to curl up behind her.

Instead of dwelling on it, I lifted my ass off the loveseat and forced myself to clean up the paper plates we’d left out. I carefully lifted the remaining cake into the refrigerator so it wouldn’t melt.

After cleaning everything up, I returned to the loveseat and put the TV on very low volume. Heather was completely out. It was late. Not wanting to disrupt her if she didn’t wake up tonight, I’d just sleep on the loveseat with my legs dangling over the end.

At one point, Heather moaned. “Noah…”

I sat up. “You okay?”

She didn’t respond, so I walked over to her and saw that her eyes were still closed. I’d almost walked away again when she repeated, “Noah…” It was more like a whisper.

“What’s up, Heather?” I murmured.

She didn’t respond. I realized she was probably talking in her sleep. She’d mentioned she did that from time to time.

“Noah…”

I stayed standing, a foot away from the bed, and looked at her for a while. Just as I’d turned around to return to the couch, I heard her again.

“Noah…fuck me. Please…fuck me.”

Oh.

Shit.

I froze, unsure what to do. This felt like a violation, because I wasn’t supposed to hear her say those words. Yet they’d exited her mouth and were meant for me, in a sense. Do I wake her up?

Her voice shook me yet again. “Fuck me, Noah.”

Jesus.

She did it again. “I want you so bad. Please fuck me.”

This time I spoke back.

“I want to. Believe me.” My words came out louder than I’d intended. I didn’t want to wake her up.

“I want to tickle your ass.”

Hold up. Say what?

Did she just say she wanted to tickle my ass? Or was it…dick in my ass? I couldn’t be sure. Maybe I was just hearing things.