The Years Between Us

by Stephanie Vercier

  “Wasn’t mine until I turned eighteen,” she says slipping off her sandals. “Before that, it was kind of meant to be an in-law suite for visitors, my grandparents mostly. But they barely ever come, and, if they do, they just stay in town.”

  “So, it’s like your own apartment, then?” I can’t help but shake my sandals off next and walk around the space, just taking a moment to imagine how wonderful it would be to have something like this at home. As it is, my room is sandwiched between Cory and Kyle’s and across from Mom and Dad’s, so there’s basically never a quiet moment when I’m there.

  “As long as I stick to the rules.” She opens up one of the windows and then plops down on the couch, stretching out after our long drive.

  “And what are the rules?” I join her on the couch and cross my legs that feel almost bare considering how short my sundress is.

  “No drinking or drugs and no boys that Dad hasn’t met or officially approved of.”

  “Sounds fair, and your dad really does let you bring boys in here?” My parents would absolutely never.

  Danielle isn’t a devious girl, not at all, but I swear the smile she gives me is the very definition. “He lets me bring Carlos Alvarez up here.”

  “Carlos? Wait… your high school boyfriend, right?” I’m a good listener, and while Danielle had been a free agent at WSU, she’d told me about her ex, Carlos, how they’d been in love but had basically decided they’d see what the world had to offer them when they went away to college.

  “Yep. Dad pretty much loves him, trusts him, knows he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. So, me and him had free reign up here, and I learned a lot last summer.”

  I laugh. “And that wasn’t weird, like knowing your dad was in the same house?” I couldn’t imagine doing it in the same house my parents slept in, not that I’d actually done it anywhere—I was still holding tightly to my V-card, and I didn’t think I’d be giving it up anytime soon.

  “You’ve seen this house, Claudia—it’s huge! Dad didn’t even have to see Carlos do the walk of shame. He’d just go out the side door. But my dad isn’t all weird about stuff like that anyway, not as long as he knows the guy loves me.”

  “And Carlos loves you?” Whenever anyone starts talking about relationships, I get all kinds of curious, mainly because I still haven’t managed to find the right one, even at WSU where my parents couldn’t breathe as far down my neck as when I was home in Seattle.

  “Sure, he loves me.”

  “But you guys broke up… I mean, so you could hook up with other people?” Hopefully she doesn’t hear judgment in my voice because I’m trying really hard not to judge. I mean, Danielle is gorgeous with her long, blonde hair, curves that guys like to say never end and the most beautiful blue eyes I think I’ve ever seen. Maybe she figures she doesn’t want to waste herself on just one guy, but if she loves him, she wouldn’t be wasting anything.

  She shrugs. “I think we both just decided it was better to experiment now than to maybe get an itch after five or ten years and end up cheating on one another?”

  “It’s so confusing,” I say, wishing I could be as easy with my thoughts about relationships as everyone else around me was.

  “It doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to put the weight of the world on sleeping with a guy or just seeing where things might go with him. You’re totally going to get an ulcer if you don’t relax.”

  “I feel like I already have one,” I admit. “And I feel like a prude, which I’m totally not because I think about guys all the time. It’s just I haven’t ever met one I really wanted to sleep with, even the guys my parents had pretty much summarily rejected.”

  She jumps up off the couch and claps her hands together. “Then we’re going to change that this summer! Carlos is going to be back home, and he’s got friends… some really cute friends. And if that doesn’t work, lots of young guys come to work at the restaurants and stuff here during the summer.”

  The idea is admittedly enticing, but it sounds sort of pathetic too. “I don’t want to be your project or get a pity fuck or—”

  “What are you talking about? A pity fuck! Seriously, Claudia, have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  “Danielle, it’s not that.”

  “No? I mean, what guy in his right mind wouldn’t want to have sex with you? You’re tall, gorgeous, and your hair! You realize a lot of women would commit murder to get the long curly chestnut you’ve got, so there is no way in hell you could think a guy would have to take pity on you, is there?”

  I sigh. I’m not going to argue with her about my looks or try to play them down. The fact is that I am the product of an incredibly beautiful mother and a tall, handsome father. My genetics led me to that short-lived modeling career that I hated every second of and kept guys like my old teacher, Mr. Banks, eyeing me.

  “Looks only make things more complicated,” I try to explain. “I can’t know if a guy actually likes me for me or if it’s just my face or my body? I feel like I can’t trust any of them.” That feeling is only more tangled with my parents acting as gate-keepers.

  “Well, looks are important. You wouldn’t want to sleep with some uggo, would you?”

  “No… well, maybe… if he was sweet and I liked his personality.” I laugh, trying to lighten the very real anxiety I feel about what will be my first time. “But I guess I just don’t want to feel stupid, like I have no clue what I’m doing. Maybe that’s what I mean about the whole pity thing.”

  “Then we’ll find you someone who’s patient, okay?” Her smile is comforting, though I’m not sure she’s going to give up until I’ve joined the ranks of the de-virginized.

  “Sure… okay.” I placate her so we can move on.

  She shows me the rest of the suite, which includes two private bedrooms and bathrooms, and I drag my suitcases into the bedroom she says is mine for the next two months. I make sure to take pictures and text them to both Mom and Dad, along with the number that Danielle provides me for her father. Hopefully my parents won’t follow up with him until it’s settled exactly how long I’ll be staying here. Mom texts right back and says everything looks good but that she expects me to check in once a day with both her and Dad like usual. I want to believe it’s just because she loves me and wants to make sure I stay safe, even if I know it’s not that simple.

  Danielle is already in her shower, and I decide to take one too. The hot water is so cleansing after our long drive through the hot Eastern Washington desert, and besides that, it’s so nice to actually be in a private shower and not the shared ones in the dorms.

  When I’ve turned off the shower, I can now hear music that seems to be coming from the living area. It’s just the kind of stuff Danielle and I would listen to in our dorm room. I dry off, slide on some fresh underwear and a tank top and head out to find my friend.

  Chapter Three

  LUKE

  Today is the day.

  It’s the one thought I’ve had since I woke up early this morning in knowing that Dani would be coming back home. It’s time to tell her about her mother’s latest relapse, something I’d been putting off since Isabelle had spiraled down in April.

  “She’ll need a good deal of family support. She has a daughter too, doesn’t she?” Isabelle’s doctor had said to me before I left the hospital in Seattle that dreary April day.

  I’d told him that yes, Isabelle had a daughter, and I agreed it would be nice for Isabelle to see her. “But she’s at school… and I’m not sure it would be a good idea to pull her away from that right now.”

  The doctor had seen my point, said these things are tricky, but that it might be good for me to at least tell her and let that decision be hers to make. I’d nodded in agreement, kissed Isabelle on the forehead and told her I’d see her in a week. And then on the drive home, I’d grappled with telling our daughter or not. Her relationship with her mother is not a simple one, and telling her of her returned illness might have elicited nothing more than a shrug, or it
could have complicated the last couple of months of her freshman year. I hadn’t wanted to risk taking her mind away from studying for finals, from going out and enjoying time with her friends, being the carefree young woman I think she has a right to be.

  But as I’m finishing up my long walk through the woods of our property, having sweat through my shirt and taken it off, I remain sure that today is the day I’ve got to tell her, have to offer her the chance to go with me to Seattle and see her mother and decide what she can give, if anything, to the woman who gave birth to her.

  Seeing the Rover in the driveway as I come back around the front of the house is a surprise. I’d hoped to have a couple of hours to shower and clean up, maybe even make some food in case she was hungry before I sat down with her.

  “You’re early,” I say aloud but to myself. Then I feel the pinch in my gut, not in fear of having to tell her but concern about how she’ll take it, how she’ll worry, not likely for her mother but for the toll her mother’s illness takes on me and for the ways in which our family is so very far from normal.

  “Hello?” I call out once I’m through the front door.

  No response.

  I can hear running water and music, so she’s likely in her suite. I need at least a glass of water before I face her, so I head into the kitchen and grab a bottle from the fridge and chug it down while I lean against one of the many kitchen cabinets. Most of the cabinets are empty, in a kitchen far too big for one man and his daughter who is away at school most of the year. It was a kitchen Isabelle helped to design, her dream kitchen that she’d only been able to enjoy for a few years before we got the divorce, before she left me for him. They were married and moved in together in that tiny village on the coast in record time, and that stung for a while.

  After downing the water, I start toward her suite. I’m a sweaty beast, but hopefully my girl will forgive her father for not looking up to snuff. I should have probably gone up to my room, showered and at least put a shirt on, but maybe I’ll just say a quick hello in my present state. Then, if she can’t handle the grossness, I’ll clean myself up before our talk.

  I take the lazy way out and hit the button for the elevator, deciding after hiking a good five miles, it’s really not that lazy. As soon as I’m in the elevator, those nerves return, but I’ll deal with those. I hit the button for the second floor and catch the smell of something sweet and fruity when the doors close, a scent that’s likely from one of the lotions or perfumes she wears, though I can’t say this one is familiar.

  When I get off the elevator, the music is louder, much louder. One of the pluses of giving my daughter her own space is so that she can do stuff like this, play music that I hate really loud without annoying the crap out of me. Approaching the door, I see movement, and when I step into the room, there is a girl in her underwear and a tank that isn’t covering a whole lot. But this girl is definitely not my daughter.

  And I can’t help but to stare.

  Chapter Four

  CLAUDIA

  Back home in Seattle, if my parents and the twins were gone, I’d turn up the music and dance completely naked in my room. It would usually be after a shower, and I’d dance around, opening drawers to get out my panties, then to the closet for jeans and a blouse, all the while dancing around without a care in the world, one of the few times I’d feel so incredibly free.

  When I’d heard the music after my shower, I’d gone out to the living area to find Danielle, but she wasn’t there. She’d docked her phone and one of our favorite songs was pouring out of some speakers. And while I wasn’t naked, I still felt free in my panties and tank and swirled around to the music, knowing Danielle wouldn’t judge me for it if she suddenly walked back in. If anything, she’d probably join me, and we’d end up piled onto the couch and laughing our asses off like we used to do back in our dorm room.

  I sing along to the music, knowing this particular one by heart, and I’m just making a swirl when I see him.

  Oh my god!

  My heart nearly stops, like seriously stops when I see a half naked man standing at the door.

  “Danielle!” I call out, rushing behind the couch for safety and a little cover. I’m not in the habit of having strange men see me in my panties.

  He says something, but the music is loud, and I can’t hear him. And then he’s got his hands up, the universal sign that tells me he doesn’t mean any harm, but how can I be sure? He must be a landscaper or something, an incredibly ripped and monumentally gorgeous landscaper, and maybe he’s just up here investigating because of the noise.

  He moves forward, moves over to where Danielle’s phone is docked and turns the music off. And all of a sudden, it’s so incredibly quiet.

  “Danielle’s dad is here somewhere,” I tell this guy who I can’t help but stare at. He’s blond and tall and has just the perfect amount of hair on his tanned chest, hair that starts up again under his navel and inches down to his cargo shorts, right down to his—

  I snap my chin up, forcing myself to look him in the eyes, not at his amazing body, the kind of body I guess you’d get doing landscaping or moving boulders or pretty much lifting three times your body weight on a regular basis.

  “Is Dani here?” he asks in the kind of voice that is deep and masculine and would make me melt a little if I wasn’t so damn nervous.

  He calls her Dani instead of Danielle, a familiarity I’m not sure a landscaper would use. I nod, keeping my eyes on his, eyes that are hazel with flecks of gold in them, or maybe that’s just the light shining in. Crap. All I know is that he’s absolutely sublime.

  “And you are?” he tags on.

  He seems pretty harmless, nice even, but I keep my position behind the couch. “Umm… I’m Claudia Cartwright, Dani’s… I mean, Danielle’s friend. Look, I swear her dad is around here somewhere if you need to talk to him.”

  “Daddy?” Danielle walks through the door from the hallway with a couple bags of tortilla chips that she then tosses onto the dining table.

  “Hey, Dani,” he says with obvious relief, walking over and opening his arms up to her.

  I’m attempting to process what I’ve just heard, that this beautiful man is my best friend’s father, a man that she is jumping into the arms of even though he’s damp with sweat, the smells of the outdoors still latched onto him.

  “Daddy, you really stink!” she says when she eases out of their embrace.

  “I would have showered, but you surprised me. How long have you been here?” He’s asking her, but he looks over to me as well.

  “Not all that long, and I thought I heard the elevator when I was just running down the stairs. Daddy, this is Claudia, my dorm mate from WSU.”

  “We met briefly, but not all that officially,” he says with such a genuine, warm smile that it nearly makes my knees buckle. Then he walks over to me, and with his eyes strictly on my face, he extends his hand. “As you can see, I’m Dani’s dad. You can call me Luke if you like. I don’t really answer to Mr. Prescott though, so I’m not sure what you’ll call me otherwise.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I tell him, threading my hand into his much larger one, so warm and still kind of wet, but totally worth the touch. “I’m really sorry about… well, I didn’t know who you were.”

  He laughs. “It’s no problem, Claudia. I’ll let you get settled in and changed.” He turns and walks toward his daughter. “I’m going to go take a shower. You two want to meet me in the living room in say half an hour? We can head into town for an early dinner or something.”

  “Sounds good. I’m so happy to see you!” She jumps into his arms again, the way a little girl jumps into the arms of her father. It’s so incredibly sweet and innocent, and it makes me wish I had that kind of relationship with my dad.

  He doesn’t turn around to look at me before he leaves, but I think he’s just being a gentleman considering I’m still in my panties, but damn if I didn’t want to see that gorgeous face of his again.

  “That i
s your dad?” I say, coming out from my hiding spot behind the couch.

  “Yeah, well, he’s usually not sweaty and shirtless like that. Once he gets cleaned up, he won’t look like some ruffian off the street.” She says this in a way that makes me think she has absolutely no clue how hot her dad is or that, sweaty or not, he’s still one of the most attractive men I think I’ve ever seen up close.

  “And then we have to ask him if it’s okay for me to stay here, right?” It’s still not a foregone conclusion, and I’d feel a lot better if I knew.

  “He’ll totally say yes. Just trust me. Anyway, I’m just gonna change. Be ready in thirty?”

  I nod. I was already kind of nervous about whether Mr. Prescott—Luke—would let me stay or not, but now I’m just as worried about facing him and trying not to look like a star-struck teenager.

  Chapter Five

  LUKE

  My palms are flat against the shower tiles as hot water pours over my body. Ever since I’d seen her… Claudia, there was an immediate spark of attraction as well as something more that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  Longing.

  When I’d first walked in and seen her, I knew she had to be one of Dani’s friends, and considering she was in nothing but panties and a tank, I should have interrupted her immediately or turned my head away or something. But I just stared. She was just so damn beautiful, even from behind, with long legs, a full beautiful rear that curved up into a high waist, slender back and softly rounded shoulders. I followed the nape of her neck up to the thick chestnut hair she’d had wrapped up into a loose bun at the top of her head. I’d have gone on looking if she hadn’t turned to me to reveal an insanely beautiful face, a face that expressed I’d apparently scared the hell out of her.

  I tried to ease her concern as quickly as possible, not wanting her to believe anything other than the fact that I was harmless, and I was… am. Even as I stand alone in my shower, my dick at full attention in even thinking about her, I refuse to touch it, refuse to give in to such a primal interest for a girl who is my daughter’s friend, a girl who is under my roof and should feel safe from leering eyes. She might just be staying the night or the week, but as long as she’s here, I’ll do my damndest to make her feel comfortable.