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“Sure.”
He followed her like the disturbed water left in a ship’s wake. Less than a second after she passed him, he realized he should have gone first. This time, his defenses faltered. And once the line broke in one place, its total collapse was all but guaranteed.
His gaze zoomed toward Tess’s shapely butt in the same way that a taut workout band snapped back together once its tension was released. He blamed the cold’s adverse effect on his mental fortitude, the agonizing length of time since he last saw her, and her leggings. Most of all, the leggings. Wow, those leggings.
Her sweater dropped only enough to tantalize him. With every step she took, it bounced enough that her entire firm butt—the jaw-dropping kind that required more than just jogging to create—prominently displayed itself. Her toned calves and thighs, flexing slightly as she strode ahead, supported that idea further.
Blood swarmed his groin, and Liam blanched. Shame pricked him like a thousand hot needles. She’d invited him over to warm up, not so he could ogle her. Gritting his teeth, he yanked his gaze from her alluring lower half and swore he wouldn’t leer at her again. Admonishing himself for his inappropriate thoughts, he lagged behind her.
Settling into a long couch facing a mounted tv over her fireplace mantelpiece, she smiled and waved him over. Smothering his forbidden desires, he focused on becoming a consummate neighbor—the kind who could get invited over again in the future, not slapped on the face for his lewdness and banished forever.
“Was the drive home okay?” Tess asked as he sat down. He’d left an entire cushion between them.
“Yeah, it was nothing special. The ride’s only about an hour and a half. I probably should have left earlier and beat the cold and the dark, though.”
“And how was your first semester?”
Liam shrugged. “It’s been fine. My grades are good, and I’ve made some friends. I’m still figuring out what I want to major in,” he added, recognizing that he was offering the dullest, most stereotypical spiel of all time.
Tess must have recognized that too, but she smiled all the same. “Do you have any idea what you’re looking to become?”
This time, he scrounged together what he hoped was a more conversational response.
“I know Idon’twant to be a dentist,” he said mirthfully. “Not that Mom or Dad ever tried to push it on me. I’ve been trying to cast a wide net with my classes. I took an anatomy and physiology class that I really liked.”
Tess listened with diligent attentiveness like she always did when they talked. He’d always found her easy to talk to; she treated whatever he had to say with the utmost respect and interest, even when he’d been a kid. When she talked back, she regularly astounded him with her nuanced opinions and objectiveness—which made sense given her career path.
“Any humanities classes in your lineup?” she asked. “Ethics?”
He shook his head. “None this year. Iamplanning to take at least one or two, I promise.”
After putting down her cup, Tess pulled her leg onto the couch and turned her body to face him directly. Still smiling, she folded her arms beneath her breasts, portraying playful umbrage.
“That makes memoreperturbed, not less—becauseIwon’t be the one teaching you when you take those classes.”
“I know… and I’m sure I’d have loved your classes, but I just didn’t feel like I’d do very well at Bellmore—if I even got in.”
His diffidence yielded a flat look as a response. “Liam, your mom shared your SAT scores with me. You would have gotten in. I’m certain you’d have thrived, too.”
“Maybe,” he said, remaining evasive.
As the local choice, Bellmore College stood as a bastion of elite higher education. Data scientists, anthropologists, and, yes, actuaries emerged from its graduating class in the dozens each year. It would have been the perfect place to apply if he’d known he wanted to pursue a career in a field like that. Tesswasright: his test scores could have gotten him in.
But Bellmore College was the college equivalent of a king cobra. You didn’t go near it unless you knew exactly what the fuck you were doing.
By comparison, while Perrymont was no garter snake, it was far less likely to leave him suffering from severe necrosis and descending paralysis.
“You would have,” Tess repeated, but she let the topic drift away from the island that was his education.
They talked for nearly forty-five minutes about all manner of mundane topics, from his parents’ current trip to Europe to Tess’s recent foray into yoga. She’d summed it up as a “mentally refreshing” winter alternative to her gardening, which was her usual avenue of stress relief.
After wringing those topics for all they were worth, he searched desperately for a new one to keep their conversation flowing. He didn’t want their time together to end.
It was the longest Liam could remember them talking one-on-one in over a year. For the past eighteen months or so, she’d carried a despondent pall over her head whenever he saw her. It’d choked the vibrancy out of her eyes, scarring her expression with unending dourness. She’d hidden it away whenever she noticed him. Still, in those lonely moments, when she was gardening and stopped long enough for her gaze to drop and her body to remain motionless for sometimes up to a minute, he saw how much anguish she must have been carrying.
“How are you doing, Tess?” He asked the question without meaning to; it simply shuffled off his tongue.
Neither shock nor displeasure appeared on the gorgeous woman’s face. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown. Nor could he tell if she were collecting her thoughts or mired in unpleasant memories that he’d drummed up with his directness. Beginning to worry, he frantically scrounged for another topic starter.
