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“Ah, yeah. I love that one.”
The tightness eases as we talk all things Bart and Homer. I hear Lottie seeing Mary out and then feel her come back into the room and sink into the couch behind us. Laying a hand on Eric’s hair, she ruffles the waves, and he tips his head back.
“You eaten yet?”
“Not yet.”
Lottie frowns. “You know the rules, young man.”
“I know.” His childish groan makes my lips twitch. Seeing this side of her is like being allowed a glimpse of the future we could’ve had if circumstance and life hadn’t gotten in the way and forced me into a situation I had no control over. I would’ve married her. I’d had a plan in my head of how I’d do it too, but then it all went to hell. I wonder if we would’ve had children of our own by now and feel an ache in my chest.
“Go wash up, I’ll start dinner.”
“How about I take us out for pizza?” The offer is out of my mouth before I can think about it. Lottie looks wary, wringing her hands together and glancing between me and Eric.
“Can we, Lottie? Can we go, please?” Eric holds his hands out in a prayer position, and I see her softening. Her stunning smile peeks out from beneath the clouds of responsibility I see her carrying on her delicate shoulders.
“I don’t know. You have school tomorrow and you have a lot of homework.”
Eric scrabbles to his knees. “I done it.”
“I’ve done it.” Lottie corrects and I feel my lips twitch.
“Fine.” He grumbles and I watch the interplay between them closely. “So can we, please?”
I catch the second she gives in and wonder if Eric can teach me his ways because every interaction between Lottie and I so far has been a battle of wills.
Her green eyes land on me. “Are you sure?”
I nod. “Of course.”
Her gaze moves to Eric. “Fine but go change. I don’t want to embarrass Lincoln.”
As he runs off to do her bidding, I stand and move closer to her as she watches me warily. I hate that the easy trust we had years ago is so broken and know I only have myself to blame, but Lottie ran from me, she didn’t believe in me, in us, like I did and that is what I can’t forgive the ease with which she walked away. Taking her hand in mine, I step closer and I can see she’s fighting the urge to step back. I make her nervous and I like that and yet at the same time, I hate it. “For the record, Lottie, you and Eric could never embarrass me.”
A blush steals over her skin and I trace her cheek with my thumb, cupping the back of her neck and feeling her pulse quicken at my touch.
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
I’m getting angry now that she’s seeing herself in this role of downtrodden mouse. The Lottie I knew had so much fire and passion. The woman before me is broken and tired but I see the fire still simmering underneath it all and I want it back.
My body moves so we’re chest to toe, her breasts pressed against me, and I want nothing more than to take her to bed and spend every second I have getting to know her until we’re both spent.
Instead, I lean toward her, the scent of her body spray something so familiar that it arouses a memory of the night we first kissed. It was nothing like now, but as I catch her lips with mine, the feelings she evokes spin in my mind with thoughts of forever. Lottie has always had the ability to make me lose my mind.
Her lips are soft and pliant beneath mine and I flick my tongue through the seam of her open lips and taste her sweetness. She’s so responsive, opening for me like a flower seeking the sun.
When a giggle has her jumping from my arms, I try and resist the urge to drag her close to me again.
I’m addicted to her.
The truth is I always have been and apparently ten years apart hasn’t changed a damn thing.
Lottie Miller is the girl who stole my heart when I was nine years old and she’s never given it back.
I. Am. Fucked.
