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But when it came to his girls, the man was scary as shit. June was no slouch either, which had me practically tiptoeing across the grass. Slinking along the outer wall like a damn cat burglar. God, I hoped none of the neighbors saw me and called the police. Explaining what I was doing traipsing through Meg’s backyard before dawn was a humiliation I didn’t need.
I curved around the back until I was standing beneath the large oak tree that stood proud just outside what I knew to be Meg’s window. The house was dark.
Of course it is, asshat. Because unlike you, some people like to be asleep at five o’clock on a Sunday morning.
“You can do this. One limb at a time,” I muttered under my breath, hoisting myself up onto the lowest branch. I hung there for a few seconds trying to get my balance before slowly and carefully scaling the hulking tree. I had only tried climbing this particular tree one other time, and it hadn’t ended well.
Meg and Skylar were having a sleepover in the seventh grade, and Kyle and I decided that it would be a great idea to scare them. We had put on Halloween masks and snuck into Meg’s backyard. Kyle had climbed the tree with no problem. I had only gotten halfway up when my shoe became stuck. When I tried to wrench it free, my hands slipped, and I fell to the ground, my left arm bracing my fall. David and June ran outside at the sound of the thud and finding Kyle and me in their backyard, had proceeded to give us the chewing out of our lives until David realized my arm was broken, then he drove me to the emergency room.
Meg hadn’t let me live it down.
Remembering that spectacular failure had me more than a little nervous. I made sure not to look down as I reached for the last branch—the one perched just outside Meg’s window. She had left it open. I could see her curtains billowing through the opening.
Was I going to just crawl inside like some deranged serial killer? That felt all kinds of wrong.
I wrapped my legs around the thick branch and held on for dear life. “Meg,” I whispered loudly.
Nothing.
“Meg,” I called out a little louder.
Still nothing.
I tore a piece of bark off the tree and winged it through the open sash. I could hear it fall with a thump. “Meg, damn it, it’s me!”
The sound of crickets greeted me. I groaned, realizing what a superbly dumb idea this was, then I made the mistake of looking down. Fuck me; it was a long way to the ground. My thighs started to clench up, and I was having a really hard time holding on.
“Meg!” I bellowed.
Finally, I heard some movement followed by an angry grumble. Seconds later, the curtain pulled back to reveal a very sleepy, very pissed off Meg Galloway.
Even in my precarious position, I felt my groin stir at the sight of her in a tight-fitting cami with no bra. I could see the dark ring of her nipples through the material, and the memory of them in my mouth brought about a total hard-on. Just great. Her thick red hair was in tangled disarray, falling into her face. Her shorts were tiny and barely covered her gorgeous ass.
She looked amazing.
When she saw me clutching the tree, her eyes widened. “What the hell are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rough from sleep.
I tried to sit up in order to retain some of my dignity. It was a lost cause.
“Oh, you know, I like climbing random women’s trees first thing in the morning,” I replied with perfect deadpan delivery.
“You’re going to wake up half the neighborhood, including my mother. Do you want to explain to June Galloway why you’re climbing a tree in her backyard at—” she glanced over her shoulder— ”at 5:45 on Sunday morning?”
The branch beneath me elicited a loud cracking noise. “Um, do you think you could give me a hand? I’m not sure how much longer this thing will hold my weight,” I asked nervously, trying to remain perfectly still.
Meg crossed her arms under her breasts. I tried not to salivate at the way the action pushed them upward, revealing so much creamy, white skin that I wanted to touch and taste and—
The branchlet out another groan and shook.
“Fuck!” I yelped. “Please, Meg. Just help a guy out here.”
She cocked her head to the side and regarded me. “I don’t know. I’m finding this whole scenario really amusing. I may let you sweat it out a bit.”
The branch cracked, and I had to scramble back toward the trunk where the wood was thicker. “You can mock me to your heart’s content. Inside,” I said through clenched teeth. Sweat beaded my forehead. “Meg, come on.” My voice went high and thready.
