“Can I see your abs?”Her hands were already pushing up my shirt.
I fought against her to push the shirt back down.“We’re not doing this, not with you like this.”
“You have like a twelve-pack.How’s that possible?”She traced a finger over the ridges through the shirt I’d gotten back in place.“You must work out hours and hours a day.I do ab work almost every day…well, a few sit-ups and some other stuff, but my belly doesn’t look like that.”
I grabbed both her hands and put them back in her lap.“You don’t want to do this.You’ll blame me and hate me worse than you already do.”
“I only hate you when you’re a jerk.Like when I did all that work on the cow, and you took all the credit.I was in a lot of pain and you didn’t say jack shit.I hadn’t touched a cow since vet school.Instead of being a douche canoe, you should’ve said I was amazeballs.”
“Is that even a word?You did do good.Why don’t we watch something?”I clicked through streaming movie options in search of something boring enough to make her fall asleep.A documentary on sea life should have a nice boring voice.
* * *
The narrator was far from dull.He was jacked up on too much caffeine and had a lot of arm tattoos.“I like your tattoos better.”
“I saw you checking them out while I was fleecing Drew.Pretty sure you had a semi the second you saw them.”
“You did not just say that.”I put a hand over my eyes.“You’re killing me.Why were you checking out my penis while fleecing Drew?”
“I don’t know,” she said, shoulders lifting in a loose, helpless shrug.“I just can’t stop.”Erika’s eyes unfocused for a second, then sharpened on mine.“Have you forgotten?When I had my mouth on you in the car that day?”She let out a breath and slumped back into the sofa.“Because I haven’t.”
No, I hadn’t forgotten.Not even close.I thought about it more than I’d ever admit.The memory hit me full-force, tightening my throat, heating my skin.I swallowed hard, because suddenly I knew that she’d be just as wild, just as consuming in bed as she was everywhere else.
“Erika, I?—”
But she was gone.
Passed out mid-confession, leaving me with the ache of everything she said.And everything I didn’t get the chance to.
I carried her into the master bedroom where the covers were made.With a small tug, her hair tie came out of her bun.It didn’t seem comfortable to leave it up.Damn, she was beautiful…and smart.So smart.“It’s why I had to push you to go.You needed to use that big brain of yours and fly.”
I’d stay for a while tonight to make sure she was okay, but I’d leave before she got up.I didn’t envy the hangover she’d have.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, hands digging into my hair.My chest felt too tight, the room too small, every breath scraping at my throat.“This is a disaster,” I whispered.“Professionally, I’m screwed if you leave.Personally,” I let out a broken laugh.“Personally, I’m screwed if you stay.”
ChapterSixteen
JOSH
The deathof someone as beloved as Roland Chomping had gutted the town.One loss was enough to rattle the community.Two, at the same time, left people shaken and raw.A sea of mourners in their Sunday-best black packed the pews of the Methodist church until there was barely standing room.Roland might’ve been a proud Baptist, but Hope had been Methodist, stubbornly so, and after they married, she made sure they only attended the Methodist church.Today, loyalty to the living won out over denomination.
The Baptists in attendance, like my parents, acted like soldiers entering enemy territory, eyes wary and backs stiff, but their grief outweighed old rivalries.The air hummed with tension and sorrow, thick enough to choke on.
I took my place in the front pew and fanned my face with my eulogy notes.It had to be eighty degrees in here.
The funeral director, his swoopy, greased, straight-out-of-1962 hairdo gleaming under the dim lights, leaned over Erika at the far end of the pew and stage-whispered, “We’re working on the heat.Someone cranked it to ninety.Probably a prankster.The AC’s on, but it’ll take a bit before we stop slow-roasting.”He snapped back upright like a spring-loaded toy.“Gotta run.The show’s about to start.”
I hadn’t talked to Erika at all yesterday after I slipped out before dawn.Before she woke up.She looked entirely different in a black dress with her hair neatly tucked into some sort of fancy bun.
Dante leaned forward from the pew behind me, aiming for the ear farthest from Erika like he was delivering state secrets.“So, did you convince her to stay yet?”
“No.”
“But you slept over at her place Friday night.”
“She passed out on the sofa.I couldn’t bail on Vinny.The kid needed at least one functioning adult in the house.”
“Nothing happened?”
