by L. B. Dunbar
“Quite a while ago,” I say.
“I didn’t know that. How did I not know this?” Ethan teases, lifting a beer for his lips.
“Probably the same way I didn’t know Britton McKay was back in town.”
“Who’s Britton?” Jacob asks.
“This hot piece Gavin was into as a teen,” Ethan explains.
“Hey,” I snap, not liking how my brother describes her.
“Britton McKay? My neighbor?” Tom questions.
“Yeah, funny no one mentioned that either,” I say, reminding myself of things I haven’t known.
“Why would anyone think to tell you a girl you were in love with back in high school was back in town?” Jess questions, his jaw clenching in that thinking-way he has.
I don’t have answers to this question that keeps coming up, but I do know it’s been bothering me more and more that I didn’t know she is here again.
“Just seems strange no one mentioned it,” I say, looking off toward the shoreline wanting to switch topics.
We spend hours discussing Jess and Emily’s upcoming wedding and Leon’s excitement over his child with Tricia. He really does seem like a good guy. Something’s in the water with those Carter women as Pam’s pregnant, too. Jacob’s more hesitant to talk about her, but the subtle gleam to his eyes when it’s mentioned indicates he’s sheepishly proud of himself.
“Fatherhood is the best,” Tom states. He’s the class clown kind of guy, never seeming to take anything seriously, so the comment is surprising. “Holden’s getting to an age that’s really changing things,” he says of his twelve-year-old son. “And it’s hard to believe Madison is going off to college.” Tom gazes back over the windshield. “Time goes too fast.”
Jess smiles up at his brother. “I can’t wait for Emily to have kids.”
“Don’t tell me she’s pregnant, too,” I scoff, feeling like the odd man out without a woman or children. Then again, Ethan and Ella aren’t having children anytime soon, so he says, as they both have new businesses blooming.
“Nah, but we keep working at it,” Jess teases, and we all congratulate him with laughs. For some reason, the comment reminds me of a momentary lapse in judgment when I entered Britton without protection on that glorious weekend romp. I just wanted to feel her again as I had when we were young and stupid. She could have gotten pregnant from that moment, but thankfully, she was on the pill.
“Most valuable piece of property on this lake. Shame she won’t sell,” Tom hollers over the roar of the engine, breaking into my thoughts. He’s been circling the lake, taking the scenic route to fill the time, and I hadn’t noticed where we were. With my back to the shoreline, I twist to notice a piece of land jutting out into the lake which holds Britton’s small yellow cottage. “That land is worth millions.”
“Why won’t she sell?” Leon asks, eyeing the property.
“Her uncle owned it. He was special to her.” All eyes land on me when I twist back to the guys in the boat, and I swallow hard, remembering Leo and Gertie again, and how nice they were to me, how good they were to Britton. I also recall my own comment about her making bank if she did sell and her adamant response that she wasn’t interested.
“Heard there were some issues with it when she inherited it. The old man hadn’t been paying his property taxes, and she’s since been strapped with it. The Sterling Realty company in town is always on her with offers. She’s one tough sell, though.”
Britton didn’t mention that in her explanation of inheriting the place.
“Man, that sounds private,” I say.
“What are we, twelve?” Jess chuckles, but I don’t want Britton’s business blasted like this. If she’s in financial trouble, it’s only for her to share.
“And that’s her,” Tom says, holding up a hand to wave. I twist again, glancing toward the shore, and sure enough, Britton stands tall on the dock while Gee sits on the edge, kicking his feet in the water. They look like they’ve been swimming, and Britton’s one-piece outlines her slight form, sexier than any bikini I’ve ever seen. She’s sexier than she knows.
Britton slowly lifts a towel before her and hesitantly waves back to Tom.
Leon whistles low under his breath. “Damn, you were a lucky man.” He’s not being a dick, just stating a fact. Britton is beautiful standing under the sunshine, her hair slicked back and glistening.
“Yo, Britton,” Ethan cries out, cupping his hands before waving like Tom Hanks seeing Lieutenant Dan in Forrest Gump. Britton laughs. Even from this distance, I hear the sound in my soul, cracking open more memories.
I glance left, feeling Jess watching me. His head slowly shakes. “You still got it for her, don’t you?”
“I don’t,” I lie before my head turns back in her direction, eyes unable to look away from her as the boat skims past her dock, and she watches us.
“If that’s what you say,” Jess remarks, reminding me of a standard comeback in communication between us when we were teens. Turning back inward, I lean forward, pressing my elbows to my thighs and fighting the pull to look over my shoulder again. I tip up my beer and mutter back at Jess.
“That’s what I say.” The comment normally cuts off a discussion but confirms the unsaid truth.
I still very much have it for her.
It’s not the most opportune time, but a memory strikes me as we pass the house.
We’d been hanging out at Uncle Leo’s when I asked him if we could use his old rowboat. It was a pathetic green thing with metal seats, and I swore the bottom leaked. While Leo didn’t like the idea of us going out on the dark lake, he’d given me an industrial flashlight when I promised to keep us close to the shoreline.
Summer was almost over. It was the first official weekend in August, and I’d be leaving on Monday. Brit and I tried not to discuss it, soaking up every last minute together. We’d often come together frantic to touch and hold one another, and this night was no different. Elk Lake City was celebrating its annual Harbor Days with week-long festivities that included carnival rides, family activities, and a fireworks display. We’d already attended the annual parade earlier in the day, but tonight, I wanted us alone.
After I rowed us out a bit from shore, enough that we could still see Leo’s house, but Leo couldn’t make out the two of us, I stopped, allowing us to drift.
The moon wasn’t full but still bright in the dark sky.
“I leave on Monday,” I said, mentioning the unmentionable.
“I know,” Britton whispered. I reached for her, sitting opposite me. The boat wobbled as I pulled her to me, and she fell against me. Giggling, she straddled my lap. My hands ran up her back, twirling her ponytail around my fist.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” I said into her neck before kissing her. Her throat bobbed. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to say goodbye, but I needed her to know how I felt. Continuing to suck at her skin, I nipped at her before pulling back. “Every time I look at the night sky, I’ll think of moments like this.”
She lowered for my lips, kissing mine sweetly at first. Quickly, the kiss turned more eager, desperate even, under the conditions of our impending separation.
“Make love to me. Make a new memory under the moonlight with me,” I begged.
“Here?” She questioned of the rickety old boat, on the water, in the open. . . moonlight. It was so dark, no one could really see us, and I gripped her hips, dragging her against the hard length in my shorts.
“No one will see,” I whispered against her mouth, sensing her hesitation. Slowly, she slipped off my lap to remove her underwear and hitched up her short skirt to her waist. I lowered my shorts just enough, covered myself in a condom, and returned her to my lap.
“The things you do to me,” I muttered, crushing my mouth against hers, giving us a second to rub against one another before angling her up and over me and slipping into her warm body. The position was different, as we balanced in a wobbling boat, but she’d been on me before like this in my dad’s
old truck. “The things you let me do to you.”
Slowly, we moved, the boat rocking to match our rhythm. We clutched at one another, rushing to a finish line in our teenage haste. As if in a fairy tale, fireworks cracked the sky behind her, over the larger lake. The sparks were high enough to illuminate us in momentary bursts, and eventually, we came in tandem with the light show. I stared up at Britton, still over me.
“You’ll always be in my heart, Brit,” I said, sorrow filling my voice. Her eyes reflected the bright light illuminating the sky with another burst of color.
“I love you, too,” she said, and I knew nothing would ever match this moment.
Take 11
Scene: A Rainy Night
[Britton]
I don’t know why I ran away from Gavin last night. Perhaps it was the shock of how much I enjoyed his kiss. The heat of his mouth, mixing with the coldness of mine, turned my insides in a way I haven’t felt for years.
Not even with Patrick.
I hate the thought as I loved Patrick. He was my best friend and a great father. He was a wonderful man, and he didn’t deserve to lose his life so young. He’d taken on a burden he never asked for and didn’t turn his back on me. I owed it to him to remain faithful to him, even after his death.
It was silly, actually. Jenna was always trying to get me to date.
“You’re too young to play the role of a black widow, doomed and damned to loneliness for eternity.” She was so dramatic.
Perhaps it was the fact I have something important to tell Gavin, and he keeps cutting me off, distracting me before I can get the words out.
These are my thoughts as I sit in bed after a sunny day has turned into a stormy night. The wind whips outside, and the exterior door to my bedroom rattles. I’ve tried to ignore it and read to settle my wandering mind. Tomorrow will be a long day as the annual Harbor Days Festival is a pivotal event in town. We’ll be open most of the day to accommodate the influx of visitors to our little city on the bay for a morning parade, afternoon family activities, and carnival rides. By four, we’ll be closed so my employees and I can enjoy the festivities which culminate in fireworks.
The first year we were here, it was only Gee and me. Last summer, he wanted to spend time with his new friends. I allowed it with myself as a chaperone. This year, he was begging to be allowed to wander the small carnival section with friends and without a hovering mom. I was hesitant to acquiesce, but Theo was on Gee’s side and even volunteered to keep an eye out for him. I’m saddened a little as I don’t know what I’ll do with myself that night, and the idea of sitting home alone feels pathetic.
On this thought, I press the bedsheet covering my legs off to the side. With the threat of rain, I’ve closed the windows, but the room is stifling me. Another rattle occurs at the sliding door leading outside from my room, and I slip out of bed to check the closure. The house is positioned on this land sideways, meaning the bedrooms face the lake to take advantage of the breeze. Each bedroom has a sliding door with access to the yard, which doesn’t thrill me about Gee’s room, but precautions are in place to secure the door each night.
As I flip back the curtain drawn over the glass, I reach for the handle and look up. With a flash of lightning over the lake, a man is illuminated just outside the door with his hands on the opposite side of the handle.
I scream.
Then a palm flattens on the glass, and I recognize him. Hastily, I unlatch the lock and slide open the heavy door.
“Gavin, what are you doing?” He’s drenched. I hadn’t even noticed the rain had begun, but on further listening, I hear the water pummeling against the roof.
“Get in here,” I whisper-hush, although I don’t know why I’m whispering nor why I’m letting him inside my room. He stands still once he crosses the threshold, dripping on the wood flooring. My eyes scan another dress shirt, soaked through, and plastered to his firm chest.
“What were you doing out there?” I groan.
“I needed to see you.” He swipes a hand through his hair, which splatters water on the curtain behind him. “I’m a fucking mess.” An undertone to his words implies more than the drenched clothing.
“Have you been drinking?”
He shakes his head, spraying more water around the room, and I think he’s lying, but it doesn’t matter.
“You could have used the front door,” I mutter, uncertain what to do with him. “Or called.”
“Funny thing. I don’t have your number, and it’s late. I didn’t want to risk disturbing Gee. I figured coming to the back door was better than standing outside your window holding a boombox belting out ‘In Your Eyes’ by Peter Gabriel.” It takes me a minute to process the scene from the movie Say Anything.
“You wouldn’t do that.” I laugh, recalling how he did something similar when we were younger. He’d hear a song on the radio and tell me to listen to it online. He’d say the song reminded him of me, and I’d analyze every word to understand his feelings.
A sly smile curls his lips while his eyes remain hesitant. Subtle plops of water puddle on the floor, and I notice his expensive shoes have been replaced by flip-flops. The bottom of his jeans are soaked like the rest of him.
“Maybe you should take your clothes off,” I say without thinking, and his eyes widen.
“If that’s what you want,” he teases, tugging at his shirt.
“I mean . . . let me get you a towel . . .” Flustered by the sudden seductive gleam to his eyes and the dimple on one side of his mouth, I turn for the bathroom. The small room joins my bedroom with Gee’s in a Jack and Jill manner. After double checking Gee is playing video games, I close the door tight on his side and then grab two towels for Gavin. Thankfully, Gee has headphones on and didn’t hear my scream. On the other hand, thank goodness this wasn’t an emergency as those headphones could block out anything.
Returning to my room, I close the door on my side of the bathroom and turn to find Gavin with his shirt off and barefoot on the floor. I lick my lips, jealous of the water coating his firm pecs and the smattering of hair on his chest.
“Trade.” I choke on the word as I hand Gavin a towel, and he hands me his shirt. “I can put this in the dryer for you.”
Gavin takes his time to rub the towel over his chest, lowering the material for his waist, where a strip of dark hair dips low, and my mouth waters. My eyes lower for his zipper, pausing a beat, and then look away.
What is this reaction?
In my thin sleep tee and shorts, my nipples peak. My breasts ache. A pulse drums between my thighs. I haven’t been turned on like this in years.
“Need a second?” Gavin irritatingly teases, catching me admiring the show of him wiping off his body.
“I can give you a second to remove your pants.” I swallow around the strain in the equally playful words. I’m not trying to be seductive, but my voice gives away the thrill of admiring his body.
Gavin pops the button on his jeans, teasing me with even more of a show, and I turn around. He chuckles behind me. “It’s not like you haven’t seen all of me before,” he reminds me, and my mouth falls open, thankful he can’t see my reaction. My mind fills with memories of him over me or me sitting astride him. However, this older body of Gavin is nothing like his younger form. He’s more filled out and more solid in ways he wasn’t as a teen.
“Okay.” He chuckles at my back, and when I turn around again, my knees nearly buckle. Gavin stands with the towel around his waist, hanging low on his hips and exposing more of that dark hair trailing below his belly button. He swipes the other towel over his head and then drops it on the floor, using his foot to wipe up the water. “Sorry about that.”
He means the mess, but I’m the one who’s a mess right now. My heart hammers. My fingers tremble. I want to run my hands over the firmness of his chest and stroke through the fine hairs below his abs. I want to lick his neck and taste his lips. I want to . . .
“I’ll be right back,” I choke again. Snaggi
ng his jeans from his hand, I give him my back and stalk out of the room for the laundry closet. The cottage is small, and I accepted living with less when we moved here. Patrick and I had a nice house in a suburb of Grand Rapids, but it was too much for me once he was gone. This space suited Gee and me just fine, plus I wanted to be closer to Leo.
Of course, when I return to my room, it feels like Gavin takes up all the oxygen. His larger than life good looks appear even larger as he sits on the floor with his back to the side of my bed.
“What are you doing down there?” I laugh at his position, as it reminds me of the numerous times we collapsed on the floor to listen to music or play board games.
“I didn’t want to get your bed wet.”
Shiitake. I’m already wet, and that bed is going to feel it later because there’s no way I’ll sleep tonight without a little self-soothing.
I fold down next to him and then adjust to sit against the bed as well. As I crisscross my legs, my knee brushes his terrycloth-covered thigh, and I flinch, shifting to stretch my legs forward and match his position.
“So?” I question, still wondering what he’s doing here.
“So.” Gavin rubs his hands over the towel wrapped around him. His legs are stretched before him, and he crosses his ankles. I’m not certain he could look sexier, which is ridiculous. It’s only a towel. He’s sitting on the floor. Of my bedroom. And we are no longer teens.
“First, I want to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that.” He looks over at me, and I nod to agree, but then I look away. Did he not like kissing me? He’s saying he’s sorry, but is it because he’s sorry it happened, sorry I sucked, or just sorry-sorry? I didn’t mind. I just overreacted. I haven’t been kissed since Patrick, and in that last year of his life, it was more pecks of comfort than passion.
“I was just startled,” I say by way of explanation for any of the three reasons he might be apologizing. “It’s been a long time.”
“Between us,” Gavin clarifies.
“Since I’ve been kissed.” Gavin shifts to look at me, but I don’t look up from my lap.
