“I was so pissed I canceled my date just so I could chase Margot around the house. Didn’t stop until I had her favorite stuffed animal hostage. You remember that elephant she used to sleep with, the one with the lazy eye?”
“Like I could ever forget.” She laughs.
“Yeah. I washed my hair like five times that night trying to get it out. No luck whatsoever.”
Hattie snickers through her hand.
“We were all pretty awful back then. I’m sorry. You used to date a lot in Maine, didn’t you?”
My face blanks.
“Yeah. Used to. I should be thanking you guys, seeing how none of those dates worked out.”
If only that stunt with the dye would’ve happened a couple summers later.
If they’d fucked up my first date with Taylor, a lot of trouble would’ve been avoided.
The last decade of my life could’ve been very different.
“Why did you leave Maine again? Was it your parents? I mean, being here, I can see why you’d want to get away from New York. But I get why Portland wasn’t far enough.” She looks at me, questions swirling in her eyes.
Fuck.
“Margot never knew you were thinking about the military until you joined up,” she adds. “You just up and left.”
Dammit, I did.
If there’s one thing I don’t want right now, it’s falling down that rabbit hole, the self-inflicted hell I endured—let alone how much of it wasmyfault.
Especially not when Hattie looks insanely gorgeous tonight with her blonde hair falling in supple waves over one shoulder, and that halter-neck dress showing smooth skin, inviting my mouth.
That dress hugs her, showing her tits in sharp relief as she takes a deep breath.
I know I shouldn’t keep staring at her like this.
I know, but I don’t stop.
This can’t end well, no matter how good it’s going today.
She looks damnably alluring in the evening light, her eyes glinting like jade, and I don’t realize I’ve taken a step toward her until she catches her breath.
“Ethan,” she whispers. “Why did you leave?”
I don’t answer.
I’m too busy looking at her mouth, another mistake.
Delectable, lush lips with a permanent pout that’s asking for my teeth.
She has a mouth made for fantasies made of pure filth.
When I slide one hand around her neck, tilting her head back gently, she doesn’t move.
Her lips part as she draws another breath.
“It was a mistake, Hattie. I have a terrible habit of making them,” I whisper.
Then I kiss her with the force of my entire soul.
