When August Ends(34)

“Hey, Noah,” she answered.

“You around tonight?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

Why am I sweating?

“You feel like watching a movie?”

“That’s strange…” she said.

“What’s strange?”

“You’re inviting me inside the boathouse. You never do that.”

No shit.

“Well, I have a spot we can sit now.”

“What do you mean?”

Rubbing my temple, I said, “I bought a small couch.” I intentionally refrained from using the word loveseat.

“You did?”

“I figured it would be nice to have one. You know…for the showings.”

Right.

For the showings.

There was one reason and one reason alone why I’d bought this damn couch, and it had nothing to do with comfort. I wanted more time with her before we went our separate ways. Some nights, it was too muggy to sit outside with all the mosquitos. Even if we couldn’t have more than this platonic friendship, I wanted to be around her for the short amount of time we had left. She made me happy.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s fine. I got it for a steal.”

“Well, yeah, a movie sounds great. Can Teddy come? He’s been standing by the door wagging his tail. I think he wants to see you.”

“Yeah, Fathead can come, too.”

The dog had been to the boathouse a couple of times since the guinea pigs’ arrival. It seemed he no longer cared about them because the barking had ceased.

“Okay. We’ll be right there,” she said.

The moment I opened the door, I regretted asking her over. Heather looked beautiful—too beautiful to be merely watching a movie. She wore a pink dress with spaghetti straps that left little to the imagination; her nipples pointed through the fabric.

Christ. This is a bad idea.

“Why are you all dressed up?” I asked as the dog jumped all over me.

“It’s my first formal invitation inside the boathouse. I figured it was a special occasion.” She laughed. “No. I was at a baby shower for one of the waitresses earlier. They held it in the back room at Jack Foley’s.”

Relieved, I nodded. “I see.”

She ran over to the new sofa and sat down. “I love it. It’s so plush and comfy!”

Her dress rode up a little as she lay her willowy legs across the length of the loveseat. She was graceful even when casually lounging around.

Yeah. Not sure what I was smoking, thinking having her here like this was going to be okay.

Fathead raced over to join her.

“Teddy approves, too,” she said as she sat up to make room for him. “What are you in the mood for?”

Going down on you.

I swallowed. “What do you mean?”

“What do you want to watch?”

“Oh…haven’t really thought about it. What about you?”

“Something light and funny without sex so I don’t blush watching it with you.” She laughed.

Damn good idea.

“Alright.”

But as she sat there enjoying the new piece of furniture, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Those nipples piercing through her dress taunted me. How I wanted to bite into them, taste her skin. What’s wrong with me? I normally had better control over my thoughts—maybe not in the shower, but at least in her presence. Tonight, though, I couldn’t seem to stop them. Maybe holding everything in for so long had finally made me crazy. I imagined her spread eagle beneath me, screaming in pleasure as I rammed into her tight, little pussy. I imagined my cock down her throat. I imagined my tongue in her asshole while I rubbed her clit and brought her to orgasm over and over. Licking my lips, I could feel myself getting hard. I needed to refocus my brain before she noticed.

When she seemed to catch me staring, I pulled a question out of my ass. “Is that your natural hair color?”

What the heck did I just say?

“Yeah. My father had blond hair before he lost it all. I get it from him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason. It’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

We ended up choosing some Reese Witherspoon movie. Even though Heather was looking at the screen, she seemed preoccupied. I knew that, of course, because I still couldn’t take my damn eyes off her.

She nearly caught me again when she suddenly turned to me. “Are you sure I’m doing the right thing?”

I sat up straighter and lowered the volume a little. “About selling the house?”

“Yeah. Now that people are starting to look, it’s getting so real.”

“You don’t have to sell if you really don’t want to, but I do think it’s best for your future.”

“We’ll never get it back. You know?”

“You’ll always have the memories. Happiness shouldn’t be about a particular place anyway. It should be something you take with you everywhere you go—transferable. If you really miss it, you can always visit the lake. It’ll always be here.”

“You won’t be here.”

My eyes widened. “No, I won’t.”

She stared long and hard into my eyes before asking, “Are you happy, Noah?”