When August Ends(10)

“You should figure out how to change that. He’s hot!”

“I know. He’s really amazing looking, isn’t he? But you know, Marlene, it’s not just that. There’s so much to him. He’s a talented photographer, like really creative. And he’s handy as all hell. He’s been painting the boathouse to help us. No one asked him to. He’s doing it because he knows we need the help. Not to mention, he also tried to save my life.”

“Tried to save your life?”

“Long story. But things have definitely been more exciting since he moved in. The admiration is one-sided, though.”

“Well, heck, anything to spice up your life. I think you need a change of pace with all the shit you have to go through with your mother. You deserve a little excitement.”

If only I could contain this giddiness. I had a feeling it was going to be a very long summer in that regard. I already felt myself spiraling out of control.





CHAPTER FOUR




* * *



NOAH




I don’t know why I agreed to dinner at Heather’s. Something told me I was going to regret it.

I guess I was curious as to what the deal was with her mother. I hadn’t seen the woman once since moving in. She never came out of the damn house. It was fucked-up.

Yeah. That’s the reason you agreed to dinner.

Evidently, I was pretty good at bullshitting myself if I believed meeting Heather’s mother was the reason I’d said yes.

Heather had batted her lashes at me at the restaurant, and I forgot my age for a minute when I stupidly agreed. It was hard to not feel like a goddamn horny college student around her. And that was dangerous. She was dangerous—particularly because she made no secret of her attraction to me.

From the moment I saw her standing in my bedroom, I’d noticed the way she gawked at me. She had no business looking at me like that, and I didn’t like it one bit.

Or maybe I didn’t like that I liked it.

As I strolled through the market, I stopped abruptly and looked down at what I was holding in my hand.

You dumbass.

I’d selected a bottle of red wine to take to dinner tonight, completely forgetting that my gracious hostess was under the drinking age.

I walked back over and returned the bottle to the shelf.

What the hell else could I bring?

The smell of fresh bread lured me to the bakery. With little time left, I grabbed a loaf of warm garlic bread before heading to the cash register.

That would have to do. Hopefully she wasn’t gluten-free or some shit.

***

I took my time walking over to the main house. Still unsure whether I’d made the right decision in agreeing to this dinner, I told myself I could always change my mind and cancel. Yet despite having the freedom to do that, I found myself in front of her door, knocking with that gigantic loaf of bread in my other hand.

Someone I didn’t expect opened the door. It wasn’t Heather or her mother, but rather a guy who looked around Heather’s age.

“Who are you?” I asked, looking him up and down.

“Eric. Who are you?”

Before I had a chance to answer, Heather’s dog came running toward me and rubbed his gigantic head all over my legs. He had the biggest freaking head I’d ever seen on a dog.

The guy repeated his question. “So, who are you?”

I finally gave in and scratched the dog’s head. “I’m renting the boathouse. Where’s Heather?”

“What do you need from Heather?” he asked, seeming defensive.

Who the hell is this guy?

I ignored his question. “Where is she?”

“Her mom isn’t feeling well. She’s in the bedroom with her.”

I should probably just get the fuck out of here.

“Tell her I stopped b—”

“Wait!” Heather suddenly appeared. “Noah, don’t go.”

The dog barked as if to echo her request.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Heather seemed flustered. “My mother doesn’t want to come out of her room. This is typical of her.” She looked over at the guy. “I see you’ve met Eric. He was just leaving.”

He stared at her for a few seconds. “Think about what I said, okay?”

“Yeah, sure.” She answered dismissively, without even looking at him.

“I mean it, Heather,” he insisted.

“Goodbye, Eric.”

After he slammed the door, there was a bit of awkward silence. The dog walked over to the corner and planted himself on the floor now that the drama was over.

Looking down at my shoes, I noticed they were pretty dirty. It had rained earlier, and I’d stepped in some mud. I couldn’t walk through the house like that.

“You mind if I kick these off?” I asked. “They’re all muddy. I don’t want to dirty your floor.”

“Go for it.” Heather said. She watched me remove my shoes. “Your feet are huge.”

“Thanks for the notification.”

“In case you didn’t know.” She laughed.

I changed the subject. “So, who was that guy?” I asked, taking a few steps into the living room, still overly conscious of my damn feet.