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"Grant?" Melissa narrowed her eyes, taking in the man before her. The Grant she remembered was a ten-year-old kid, too skinny and too tall; he always popped up when he wasn't welcome, following her around like a dog in heat. But those eyes. Yeah, she remembered those eyes.
"That's me." His smile got even bigger, and Melissa chewed on her bottom lip, taking him in. He definitely had grown.
"You've changed," she said.
"Yeah, well, that does tend to happen since the last time you saw me, I was a sophmore I think," he laughed.
"You were like ten when I left," Melissa frowned.
"Try fifteen."
"No way, you were so little; you've definitely grown," she said in a whisper.
"Yeah, that tends to happen to the male species. What I didn't expect was for you to get hotter. I didn't think that was possible. What has it been ten years? I thought you were the hottest thing to grace the planet, now well–" He looked her up and down, and there was no hiding what he was thinking. Melissa tried not to shiver; if looks could devour, she would be Grant's next meal. Grant, her kid neighbor.
"Six years. And, thanks, I think," Melissa said. This conversation was making her feel uncomfortable. She couldn't correlate the skinny aggravating kid that used to follow her around to this attractive male standing before her without mixing up her guilt complexes. She was good with conversing, especially with men, but Grant had her tongue-tied and out of sorts. She remembered Grant as the aggravating kid who lived next door, but Grant, the man was entirely different. She would have never expected him to turn out this way. He was panty-wetting delicious. As a boy, he had been tiny, scrawny, with a slight acne problem, thick glasses, and had an annoying habit of peeking in her windows like some pint-sized perv. But, this guy, she wouldn't mind him looking in her windows. Crawling through them as well.
She tried to eighty-six that last thought. She couldn't think of things like that. She couldn't be sucked back into her old ways. Her reputation was tenuous in this small town. If she began screwing around with her neighbor when she stepped back into town, Yankee slut Melissa would be resurrected with a vengeance. Not to mention Grant was barely legal. He might look every bit man, but he was younger than her. There was no way she could lust after someone like him. She liked older men. Experienced men. Men with established lives and tastes.
Bad Melissa! She scolded herself for thinking impure thoughts about this man, no kid. He was a kid. What the hell?
"That's all I get? Only a 'gee thanks' after all these years?" He cocked his head to the side and looked her over suggestively again. Still a perv, it would seem. Pervy from hotties tended to get brushed off as not so pervy.
"Well, I don't think anything else, or whatever you're implying with that look, would be appropriate," she laughed nervously. "You're like barely eighteen, right?" She asked as she gulped her drink and choked on the froth, coughing into her hand. Her math could have been better.
"Not quite, I'm twenty-one, Melissa," he drawled her name. "Never that good at math, were you?"
"Oh," her eyes widened, and the evil thoughts she had held back filtered through her head with a vengeance. Twenty-one was doable. Literally, she was only barely twenty-five herself. She was also a sucker for a hot guy, always had been since she got that first tingly sensation in her body when she watched the guys play a touch football game. But she couldn't get tingly for Grant. He was too– much younger than her and well too close to home. She couldn't fall in lust for the first Mississippi boy that smiled at her and laid on the Southern charm.
But, she argued with herself, she wasn't that much older than him, only four years; it was nothing if you thought about it in the grand scheme of things. And she couldn't help thinking about it as he stood before her, looking hot and smug.
Thoughts only, thoughts, she chided herself. She could lust after him, look at him, but that was it. She might act on it tonight, by herself, with her favorite toy that she had made sure to pack. A girl had to have some sort of outlet. But that was it. No touching. Not Grant.
Grant smiled at her as if he knew what she was thinking. "You get back to quench your thirst. See you around, neighbor." He winked, actually winked, leaving her alone with conflicted thoughts.
Melissa slumped against the kitchen counter and took three deep breaths. If she saw more of Grant, this homecoming wouldn't be so bad after all.
3
Grant
After the party, Grant lingered on his side porch, watching all of the guests depart from his elevated vantage point. His house was a good distance away from the Barrington home, but most of the trees were at the front and back of the house, so he had an unobstructed view of next door. The way he liked it.
Just like he was fifteen again. He cursed under his breath, trying to forget that pathetic boy he had once been. One look today at Melissa and he was that kid again. That awkward teen that popped hard-ons if the wind blew too hard, who had a mad crush on the smoking hot neighbor. The neighbor who had turned him into a Peeping Tom pervert that liked to sneak around and look into windows.
Speaking of neighbors, the object of his many masturbation fantasies from fifteen to eighteen walked onto her back porch. She was still so damn beautiful. Even more so than he remembered. When she left, she was a girl pretending to be a woman. Now she was all woman. Her dark hair was a lot longer, falling almost to her ass, and she had filled out more. Her tits were fuller, her hips a bit wider, and her face had lost that childish roundness of her teen years. She had gone from the hot girl next door to the hot woman of his ultimate fantasies. He could handle her looking this good, but only if he finally tasted her. Something he seemed to need desperately. His dick hardened with merely the sight of her.
“Handle it,” he said the words out loud. He was going to handle it. He wouldn’t let Melissa get underneath his skin again, no matter what. This time he wouldn’t be that awkward kid following her around like a dog in heat.
This time he would make her pant after him.
He might be only a high school graduate who hadn’t ventured very far from this town, but he was a damn good catch. His life was set up. His parents had purchased a condo in Florida the day after he graduated, and his dad had left him the keys to the grocery store that had been in his family for three generations. They came back one weekend every month, just to check in, and then they were off again. He was the town's most eligible bachelor, or so most of the older women that shopped at his store told him.
Grant already had his life set before him. He lived in the house that he grew up in and loved, in the town he had lived in for his entire life and couldn’t imagine leaving. And now the girl of his dreams was back.
Melissa fucking Barrington. He had compared every girl to Melissa. Every girl he dated, he didn’t find as appealing as Melissa. Every girl he fucked couldn’t have been as good as Melissa would have been. No one was as pretty, no one as funny. It was damn annoying. A girl he had never touched, had never dated, had overshadowed every girl that he let into his life. And now she was back. This time he was going to have her. There wasn’t a question in his mind. He would fuck her, find out that she wasn’t as perfect as he imagined, and he would finally be free of all the Melissa fantasies. She would be out of his system. He would prove that she wasn’t the girl of his fantasies but just another hot fuck that he could walk away from like the rest.
That was it. He’d have her, and then she could return to her fancy big city, thinking she was better than the rest of them, and Grant could finally stop comparing every girl to her. Fuck her and send her on her way. It was a damn good plan.
