And unlike my bookworm sister Jillian or pageant queen Skylar, I’d loved nothing more as a kid than running around outside and getting dirty, climbing trees, swimming in his family’s pool or the bay. As grade schoolers, we’d played pirates or spies or zombies. As pre-teens, we’d had swimming races and fishing contests and went to the county fair together, gorging on sticky carnival food and riding the Zipper or Round Up until we were sick and dizzy. And the weird thing was, as close as we were all those summers, we never talked during the school year. But when he arrived in late June for vacation, it was like we’d never been apart.
Things changed a little the summer after he turned sixteen, when he was suddenly tall and deep-voiced, and his body had acquired the muscular curves and lines of a grown man’s. His face had changed too—it was more angular, stronger in the jaw and cheekbone, fuller at the mouth. Miles is so handsome, isn’t he? my mother would remark. I’d rolled my eyes, because she wasn’t the only female who’d noticed. Miles was suddenly every girl’s crush, a role he relished, hooking up with every pretty girl with a pulse, including a bunch of my friends.
Secretly I agreed with my mother—Miles was handsome, but his ego didn’t need any boosting from me. When we hung out as teenagers, I endured his dirty, juvenile sense of humor and turned up my nose at his flirting, letting him know I was not impressed. Then I fell in love with Dan, which Miles did not understand at all—not only did he think Dan was an ass, but he thought relationships in general were stupid and told me repeatedly that I was missing out on all the fun.
As I pulled up behind the shop and parked my car, I recalled his last summer up here, after he’d graduated high school. He’d been moody and distant toward the end, not like himself at all. When I’d asked, he’d just said he had a lot on his mind, what with leaving for college in only a few weeks.
On his last night in town, he came over to say goodbye, and the memory of that hot, humid night returned to me with startling clarity. For several seconds, I held my breath, remembering how he’d come to my window in the middle of the night, how the wet heat blanketed my skin when I went outside to talk to him, how the air crackled with the electricity of an approaching summer storm. Nine years had passed, but I remembered every single word he’d uttered there in the dark, could still hear the low, raw sound of his voice, the thunder rolling softly in the distance. I’d never told anyone about that night, nor had Miles and I ever talked about it again. Not that anything had happened…
But we almost.
We almost.
I walked around the block to the front of the store, and stopped short at the sight of someone leaning against the door. My heart immediately pounded harder in fear—the street was still dark at this time of morning, and I wasn’t used to seeing anyone but the occasional jogger. This was a guy in a hoodie and jeans.
“It’s about time,” he said.
I knew that voice.
“Miles? What the hell?” Hand over my heart, I resumed walking toward him. “You scared me half to death. I thought you were going to strangle me or something.”
He came off the door and stood tall, feet apart, hands in his pockets. “Hey, I’m willing. If you’re into that sort of thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “Um, no.” But for a crazy second, I pictured him with his hands around some girl’s neck as he fucked her. I bet he’s done it. He’s probably into that stuff. It didn’t repulse me or anything—in fact, it sort of turned me on—but Dan and I were pretty vanilla, and I was OK with that. He knew how to make me come, at least. Orgasms were orgasms, weren’t they?
Not that I’d had one in a while. One that wasn’t self-induced, anyway.
Stop thinking about orgasms.
When I reached Miles, I stood in front of him. He was tall and trim, with brown hair that was short on the back and sides, a little longer and messy on top. Still boyishly handsome, he wore black eyeglasses with thick frames and a satisfied smirk. “You’re late.”
“Yeah, somebody called me at four this morning and kept me on the phone for ten minutes.”
“What an asshole.”
“Totally.” I smiled, reaching for him. “C’mere, asshole.”
It was just a hug, and I’d meant it to be one of those friend hugs where just your shoulders touch, but as soon as his arms came around me, he pulled me close so my breasts pressed against his chest, and our torsos touched. Something fluttered again inside me, setting off a warning bell in my head.
Back off—it’s dark and he’s cute, and if someone sees you embracing out here like this, word could get around. Plus it feels kind of good, and how would you feel knowing Dan hugged women like this and got turned on by it?
I released him and took a step back, fumbling with my keys. For some reason I couldn’t recognize the right one, even though I’d opened this shop practically every morning for the last three years. Finally I managed to get it in my fingers, and I unlocked the door. “Come on in. I’ll get some coffee going.”
After locking the door again behind us, I turned on all the lights. Normally I didn’t do that until closer to opening time, but the prospect of being alone with Miles in the dark or even the dim made me feel a little edgy. We hadn’t been alone in the dark since—
What the hell? Knock it off. He’s your friend. Yes, he’s a flirt, but he flirts with everybody.
No, he has sex with everybody! And writes about it!