I clear my throat. “Yeah, at my house,” I answer as I walk away from her. Just like day one, she can follow or not, but either way I’m done with her hot-and-cold attitude. I don’t really give a flying shit if she wants to come to town with me. I can’t continue to put myself out there if she’s going to act like a Class A bitch all the time.
Surprisingly, she follows in line behind me. I pause briefly when we get to my truck and contemplate whether or not I should open her door. After some debating, I decide against it. It’s not that I’m not a gentleman, but she has no respect for me. Here I’m willing to take her to town, and she has attitude. Girl seriously needs to be put on a bull and have that shit bucked out of her.
She seems to have no qualms about opening her own door and we both hop in at the same time. As chivalry dictates, I could shut the sliding window behind us, but I think I’ll wait until the princess asks nicely. Besides, maybe the wind will blow sweet nothings into her ear and she’ll come out of the funk she’s in.
We drive approximately three hundred yards before I park. Savannah raises her sunglasses, resting them on top of her head. She looks out the window and then at me, her face full of confusion.
“I thought we were going to your house?”
I chuckle. “This is my house.” I hop out of the truck and walk to my front door. The soft smell of pine greets me. I breathe in deeply and admire my freshly installed floors. When Jeremiah told me about the lumberyard getting their hands on some wide-planks, I couldn’t resist. It took me three weeks to get the floor down and polished, but it was worth it. My house is small, but it’s mine for as long as I want it. The two bedrooms are large and accommodating, but with only one bathroom it can be a little cramped when my mom comes to visit. Last summer I installed a bay window, but haven’t done much else. This winter I plan to replace the mantle and maybe update the kitchen. Aunt Sue did a lot of work before I moved in, but it looks more like a cabin than a home. I turn back to see her sitting there, looking straight ahead. Leaving the front door open, I give her a choice of whether or not she wants to come in, but I’m really not counting on her doing so. I head right to the shower so I don’t keep her waiting. The sooner we’re out of here, the better. After tonight I won’t have to take her shopping again.
Letting the hot water beat down on my back relieves some of the stress I’m feeling. I can’t let her get to me. She’s changed so much since she’s been gone that it’s unfair of me to expect her to be the same, or to adapt to our laid back way of living. The country and city just don’t mix that well. Thoughts of her sitting in my truck, with beads of sweat forming on her forehead because of the sun plague my mind. I slam the water off and get out. I don’t want her bitching about me taking too long in the shower and the fact that I even care what she thinks pisses me right the hell off.
Opening the bathroom door, I step into the living room, cinching my towel tightly around my waist. My dumb ass didn’t think about bringing clothes into the bathroom with me when I left the front door wide open, and it should have because Savannah is standing in front of me, her crystal blue eyes roaming up and down my body. If I weren’t happy with the way I look, I’d wonder if she was impressed. I’ve worked hard on my physique, keeping myself in shape. I could wink as I walk by, but she’s standing in my way. I can either return to the bathroom or stand here like a wanton piece of art and let her gawk. I encourage her to get her fill of me. I want to be ingrained into her memory so that when she’s far from here and she looks at another guy, she only has flashes of me. I want her to see that I’ve also grown up and that neither of us are those two kids that everyone remembers.
Maybe that’s what I want. Maybe in the back of my perverse mind this is what I need – for her to see me, like this, in my home. What purpose that serves, I have no idea, other than getting us both flustered. The thought of touching her skin, like I did only an hour ago in the kitchen, forces me to step back. I’m not crossing the boundaries she’s put up. She quickly licks her lips, her wet, pink, tongue showing briefly before she pulls it back into her mouth. The urge to kiss her is there, but if I do, I’ll lose my towel and neither of us is ready for that to happen.
Savannah sways ever so lightly from foot to foot. Her demeanor has changed from when we were in the yard. This is the Savannah that I want to know, not the icy cold bitch from earlier. If I can have this girl, I’d start spending every free minute with her.
“What happened to your house?”
I clear my throat and rub my free hand on my towel. “It burnt down about a year after you left. Mom and I moved closer to town, but I didn’t like it. I missed the ranch too much. When I turned eighteen, Aunt Sue showed me this place. She had been restoring it for a while and was going to rent it out, but figured that I didn’t much like staying in your pink bedroom. I moved in and started working for your uncle. As soon as I graduated, I went full-time and started taking some classes online, which sucked because I had to do it at the library, but it all worked out. After I finished my degree, Bobby handed over a lot of responsibilities. I can afford to move now, but I like this house. It has everything I need.” I look around, afraid to make eye contact with her. She asked me a simple question and for some reason my mouth went on a verbal tangent.
“You lost everything?”
“I did,” my answer is barely a whisper. I don’t know if she realizes it, but there’s so much meaning behind her choice of words and the fact that she said “everything”. I felt lost when she left. I know it wasn’t her fault, but I couldn’t help but be mad at her. She left me. She was my best friend, and she moved away. Losing my personal belongings was just the icing on the cake during an already depressing year.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? You didn’t set my house on fire.”
She shakes her head and steps closer... too close. “No, I didn’t, but I can still feel bad that you lost everything.”
I should step back and put some distance between us, but I can’t. I don’t want to. “I lost my most important possession earlier than that. It wasn’t harmed in the fire.”
Her eyes meet mine and I can see the realization in her blue orbs. “Me,” she whispers. I nod, unable to deny her this answer. She steps forward, the fabric of her dress brushing against my towel. Her fingers dance along my skin, causing goosebumps that I haven’t felt in a very long time to pebble my skin. The trail she leaves ignites something in me. Many images flash before my eyes, all of them ending up with me sans my towel and between her legs.
“Savannah,” I murmur, huskily. She responds by allowing her fingers to trace my jaw.
“I didn’t want to leave,” she admits quietly.
I nod, unable to hold back. I slip my arm around her waist and pull her closer. Her chest, heaving as her breathing picks up, brushes against mine. She’s a smart girl. She knows what’s coming next. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, please step back. I won’t be mad.”
Savannah bites her lower lip, tilting her head to the side. Her hand moves to my head and her fingers running over what little hair I have left. I don’t hesitate as I move forward and press my lips to hers. Immediate warmth mixed with chills takes over my body, and I try to pull her closer while keeping my hand securely fastened to my towel. One false move and she’s going to see how much this kiss really means to me.
Savannah
My body trembles. My heart thumps wildly against my chest. Tyler’s arm holds me securely to him while my fingers play with the short hairs on his head. I wish his hair were longer so I could run my fingers through it and feel the silky strands as they caress my fingers. I understand why he keeps it short, but for once I want this fantasy to play out – the one playing out in my head where he drops the towel and carries me off to his bedroom while I thread my fingers through his locks, pulling as he climaxes. Not that the scenes running through my mind as I anticipate his next move aren’t making me hypersensitive to his actions.
His eyes dart between my mouth and my eyes, the dark orbs of his pupils hijacking the vibrant green I’ve become accustomed to as they widen. I don’t know what they’re conveying, but I hope he’s seeing that I want him to kiss me, that I need him to kiss me. I know I don’t deserve his attention, let alone his affection, but I want it. I’ve wanted it since he walked into the kitchen and told me who he was. The feelings I had when I left, the ones my mother told me were wrong and that I was too young for, are rushing back with each and every moment. As much as I want to deny they exist, I can’t. As much as I want to keep my wall up and pretend like he doesn’t matter, he does. He was my best friend and now he’s standing in front of me, hopefully about to kiss me.
I can feel the rise and fall of his chest. Our breathing matches, keeping us connected. My eyes flutter as his lips touch mine. They’re soft, softer than I thought they would be. They still against mine, as if he’s cautious, waiting for me to pull away and start running for the hills. I didn’t know it until he touched me like this, but I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life. I want more. No, I need more. I have to know if he’s feeling the same crazy mixed up nervousness that I am when he’s around. I need to know if his palms swe
at when I stand near him, because mine do. Does his heart pound so hard that he fears if he doesn’t walk away people will hear? If I could tell him… if I could find the words or find a way to show him that I want him, maybe everything would be okay.
The kiss is too quick, and he pulls away. At best he gave me a peck. That’s all I’m worth to him. It’s all I deserve. I let my hands fall in defeat. He catches one, placing it over his left pec. I swallow hard as my fingers caress his skin. I feel his skin pebble under my touch and knowing that I’m doing that to him turns me on. I don’t know why he’s hesitating because right now I think he knows what I want.
My eyes meet his. They’re gleaming. He turns his head slightly before placing his hand on the back of my neck. He wets his lips and moves toward me painstakingly slow. I try to move closer, but I’m sealed to the ground. He smiles, sensing my need. I’ve never felt an urge quite like this. If he doesn’t kiss me soon, I’m going to kiss him whether he likes it or not.