It slammed into her, larger than life:Aidan Teaguewantedher.
God, when had that happened?
She flicked out her tongue to dampen her lips and found them already slick from the touch of his mouth. A low, deep quiver started up in her stomach, a pulse of heat between her legs.
But things were happening too fast, and nothing could come to fruition, here in the yard, not while Helen was just inside lecturing Erin. The thought was a rush of cold water across her skin.
“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.
His head tilted back, clearly surprised. But he said, “Sure.”
She was touched with embarrassment as she climbed inelegantly to her feet. Why, she didn’t know. Kneejerk reaction, most like.
As she headed for the door, she caught sight of his cigarette lying on the concrete, a little flash of white in the night. It was still smoldering, thin finger of smoke curling up from the tip. He’d dropped it when he’d grabbed her, abandoned the taste of tobacco for that of her mouth.
That little bundle of shame burst apart and evaporated, as she stood rooted, staring at his forgotten smoke. He was the same Aidan he’d always been. But he wanted her.
And she’d always wanted him.
Fuck it, she was going to go for it.
“You alright?” he asked behind her.
“Perfect,” she said, and meant it, her steps light as she flitted to the back door and slipped inside.
She felt giddy as a little girl, suddenly, full of champagne bubbles. She wanted to giggle as she tiptoed across the old faded linoleum.
Aidan. Aidan and her. The two of them.Aidan.
She went to the threshold between kitchen and living room just in time to see Erin disappear up the stairs, Helen close behind her.
“She’s going to bed,” Mom announced in a dictatorial tone. “And I’m going to have a soak in the bathtub, and starting tomorrow, things are going to be different around here.”
Sam tried to hide her smile. “Good for you, Mom.”
“Is your friend still here?”
She nodded.
Helen watched her a moment, hand on the banister. Then nodded. “Okay. Night.”
“Night, Mom.”
Drink time.
A quick scan of the cabinets proved they had nothing in the way of alcohol save some cooking sherry, peppermint schnapps, and a new bottle of generic “white blend” wine from Leroy’s. Not even Chardonnay. White. Oh boy.
Deciding on the lesser of two evils, she filled two juice glasses with the white and managed to juggle them without spilling as she let herself back outside. “Sorry,” she said, as he eyed the glass she handed him. “It was either wine or schnapps.”
“Ugh.” He made a comical face of disgust.
“I went with wine.”
“Good call.”
Sam settled back into her chair from before, but noted that it was even closer to Aidan’s, the arms touching so that, as she sat, her own arm was pressed alongside his.
Just go with it, she reminded herself.
