Page 127 of The Apple Tree

Josh and I headed straight upstairs and Kyle let the dog out. I made sure Josh took a shower before putting on his jammies and brushing his teeth.

“What story do you want tonight, buddy?” Kyle asked as I straightened the covers on Josh’s bed.

“This one!” Josh held up a book and Clifford jumped onto the bed.

“I’m going to make a grocery list,” I said without looking at Kyle.

“You can go home if you want,” he said.

My heart cracked, each chamber barely holding together. And I swallowed past the rush of emotions.

“I just mean, you’ve been living out of a backpack. Tomorrow is Saturday. Josh will sleep in a bit, and so will I.”

I returned a slight nod, heading toward the stairs.

“Eve?”

I continued down the stairs.

“Eve, don’t leave until I’m done reading to Josh.”

I wasn’t going to stay. Everything inside of me wanted to run home, even if it meant getting a lecture from my parents on my driving. But I stared at the refrigerator when I grabbed my purse from the kitchen counter and decided to look for something to take the edge off.

When Kyle found me on his deck, I had already downed one-and-a-half cans of beer to soothe my nerves, and his little radioby the door played U2’s “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”

“Think that’s a good idea?” he asked, sitting in the rocker beside me.

I stared out at the clear autumn sky with a glitter of stars. “Does it matter if my ideas are good?”

“It’s a small dent, Eve. I don’t expect you to hand over your paycheck.”

“I know it was a small dent, and I might not have hit the pole had you not treated me like a child in front of Drew and everyone else. I have been doing my very best to prove that I’m not a child. I didn’t mean to fall on him, but our legs were tied together. And …” I leaned my head back and closed my eyes with a giggle that stole my thunder. “I don’t remember where I was going with that.”

He reached for my beer, and my eyes snapped open as I tightened my grip.

“It’s my beer.” He smirked.

“I earned it.”

His gaze shifted to the hoodie I borrowed from his closet since Josh had mine, which needed washing. “And the hoodie?”

“I earned it too,” I said, trying to keep from grinning. “But I’ll let you have the rest of my beer ifyouearn it back.” I wasn’t fully drunk, but my inhibitions were lower. After setting the beer on the floor, I stood and removed my jeans and underwear, but his long sweatshirt hung mid-thigh keeping me covered.

As luck or Satan would have it, the next song that came on the radio was George Michael’s “I Want Your Sex.”

One of Kyle’s brows quirked up his forehead, and I knew what he was thinking.

I nodded to the beer before sitting down. “I don’t care which one you have first.” I rested one foot on the rocker's edge, and then the other, as I leaned back.

Kyle didn’t jump out of his seat right away. He took his time, arching his back for a stretch before standing.

Without that liquid courage, I wouldn’t have been able to hold his gaze as his lust-filled eyes flitted along my body. My nerves would have eaten me alive knowing my legs were spread, everything on display for him to see.

I felt confident, sexy, and deserving of what he was lowering to his knees to do.

The music.

The lyrics.

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