Heidi's Guide to Four Letter Words(35)

“Oh hey there, Justin! How’s it going? Are you good? You look good! Boy, it’s great to see you. How are your parents? How’s school? It’s a nice night we’re having, isn’t it? I was just standing here on Mr. Miller’s front porch, because he’s got a better view of the… night. That we’re having. Which is nice. Isn’t it nice? We should go and leave Mr. Miller to his… nice, quiet night, where I’m positive he’s having a peaceful evening all by himself.”

“I AM NOT GOING BACK IN THERE! YOU ARE TRASH!” Brent shouts from inside.

Because of course he does. He couldn’t finish his dirty business quietly, could he?

“Okay, well, we should probably go so we don’t bother him!” I chirp, quickly moving forward in the hopes that Justin will turn and run before what’s happening inside that house corrupts either one of us more than it already has. But, Justin doesn’t budge.

“I just gotta deliver Mr. Miller’s pizza he ordered,” Justin informs me, lifting the cardboard box up between us that I didn’t notice he was holding.

Seriously? Pizza? Well, I guess all that grunting and shouting builds up an appetite.

I snatch the box out of Justin’s hand and toss it behind me, hearing it land with a thunk on the porch right in front of the door.

“Pizza’s delivered!” I cheer. “Okay, let’s go.”

As soon as I wrap my hand around Justin’s arm to try to pull him with me down the steps, ignoring the shocked look on his face at what I just did, I hear the unmistakable sound of the lock on the door being disengaged and the creak of it opening.

“Heidi?”

As always, the deep, raspy sound of my name coming from Brent makes my stomach flip-flop. But then I remember what a dirty bird he is and tell my stomach to calm the heck down. I really don’t want to turn around. As much as I’ve imagined seeing him half-dressed—okay, fine, not dressed at all—and sweaty, with his hair all mussed up, now that I know the kind of things he’s into and what led him to look that way, it doesn’t seem so appealing. So, I keep my back to him, because that’s completely normal.

“Hey there, Brent! Nice night we’re having!” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I want to smack my own face. He might be having a nice night, but mine has quickly turned into a dumpster fire. A dumpster fire that no amount of showering will cleanse me from.

I hear him chuckle softly and I roll my eyes.

“Sorry about your pizza, Mr. Miller.” Justin shrugs, pointing around me to where I assume the box landed. “She just grabbed it out of my hand and chucked it on the porch. I’m sure it’s still good.”

Traitor.

All of a sudden, I feel the heat from Brent’s body as he steps out of his doorway and stands right next to me, his shoulder bumping against mine. Out the corner of my eye, I see him lean forward and hand Justin some money. I also see that he is not half-dressed, nor anywhere near naked. He’s wearing a T-shirt and jeans and a baseball cap backward on his head. He looks adorable and not at all like he just gave Laura Newberg the business very loudly and rudely.

“Thanks, man. Have a good evening,” Brent tells Justin.

The two of them share a wave, while Justin looks at me like I’m a crazy person before turning and heading down the walkway to his car parked against the curb.

Brent and I stand next to each other in awkward silence as we watch Justin start up his car and pull away. Not wanting to make things even more awkward by talking, I start to move down off the porch, but Brent gently wraps his hand around my upper arm to halt my progress.

“Hey, look at me,” he requests softly.

I have no choice but to do as he asks. As much as I want to run and flee from the scene of the sex crime, it would be extremely rude. Especially since he probably knows I could hear everything that was going on. People five miles away could probably hear what was going on. When I slowly turn around, I make the mistake of looking right up into his gorgeous blue eyes instead of just some random spot over his shoulder. My legs turn into jelly, and I open my mouth to explain my presence in his yard, but all that comes out is a tiny squeak.

“Oh my God,” he mutters, finally letting go of my arm to scrub his hand down his face, mostly likely trying to rub away the mortification that he knows that I know what he did.

“It’s fine! Everything’s fine! No big deal! I’m totally not judging you! Whatever you’re into is fine with me!”

He lets out a soft, embarrassed laugh and shakes his head at me.

“I swear to you, it’s not what it sounded like. Oh fuck. I can only imagine what you heard. I was… a little into what I was doing, and I kind of lost track of—”

“Nope, don’t wanna know!”

“Seriously, Heidi. I wasn’t…. I’m not…. Here, come with me and I’ll show you.”

I don’t even have time to insist that it’s all good, and if he cares about my mental well-being at all, he’ll just let me run home as fast as I can and forget this ever happened. He grabs one of my hands, laces his fingers through mine, and pulls me across his porch. He scoops up the pizza with his free hand as he moves, stopping when we get a few feet inside his home. I’m so busy calling myself a fool for letting the feel of his hand wrapped around mine make me forget the fact that his sexual appetite is a whole lot dirtier than I ever expected that I barely notice what he’s pointing to when we get inside.