With a smile on my face, I run up the side of the hill, only to slip in the mud when Nate wraps his arm around my waist.

“Shit!” He tucks quickly, so he’s the one that hits the ground, and I land on top of him.

Laughing hysterically, I drop my head to his stomach. “You okay?”

He narrows his eyes at me and I laugh even harder, rolling onto my back next to him.

“That was your fault.” He nudges me with his elbow, his voice light.

“Oh.” I roll onto my stomach, propping myself upon my elbow. “I made it rain?”

“You jinxed us.” He laughs, reaching up to brush dirt off my face.

I roll my eyes. “Uh-huh.”

He pulls my hair tie out, and my wet hair falls down my back. “Did you have fun today?” he asks, playing with a few strands.

“I did.” I can’t help but smile down at him.

Nate brought me to his house to show me the stream that runs along the back side of his property. The water stretches out about five feet and runs as far as you can see in both directions. Thick, tall trees stretch from beginning to end on the side that meets his family’s land. Some are raised higher as the hillsides lift into small mounds of fresh, feathery green grass.

First, we tried to fish in the pond, but after a good two hours, didn’t catch jack shit, so we decided to take a hike instead, and it started pouring on us. So, here we lay, underneath a giant tree, attempting to stay out of the downpour.

“I always liked the rain,” I tell him, looking out over the hillside.

The wind’s blowing slightly, just enough for the limbs of the trees - some leafless, others full - to bounce around.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s a random escape, the rain.”

“How so?” His fingers reach out and he pushes my wet hair over my shoulder, leaving his warm hand to rest there.

“It comes and goes as it pleases, taking with it the remains of the days or hours before; washing away all traces of attendance, all the memories. Nothing is as powerful as the rain.”

“Kinda like you?” he asks, a few moments later.

My eyes slide back to his. He must see my confusion because he gives me a small smile before explaining.

“I can see it, Kalani,” he says quietly, running his fingertips down my arm. “You battling with yourself. Sometimes you allow yourself to smile, a real one that makes your eyes shine, only to wash it away seconds later, leaving behind a blank space.” He gazes at me. “Like the rain.”

I’m not sure how to react, so I just stare at him.

My instincts tell me to get up and run, let the rain wash away the memory of today, like we just talked about. But something’s keeping me rooted on this hillside, and I have a sneaky suspicion it’s this mystery of a man-boy laying next to me.

When I finally react to his words with a laugh, he releases a breath I didn’t realize he was holding, and reaches up to brush my hair behind my ear tenderly, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

Nate’s eyes pinch slightly, a small grimace on his lips. “You’re cold.” He misreads my body’s reaction for the first time. “Want me to call my dad, have him come back here on the ATV, and get us out of this mess?”

I smile at him, reaching down to smooth out the worry lines that have taken over his forehead. Shifting so I’m sitting on my knees, I shake my head and his brows knit further.

My hands grab the hem of my rain soaked shirt, and I pull it over my head, dropping it down next to me.

Nate sits up instantly, and gently runs his hands up my ribs, across my back, until he has the clasps of my bra in his hand.

His eyes find mine, his hand frozen in place.

“What are you waiting for, Handsome?”

He maneuvers us so his back is against the tree, then he grips me under my thighs, positioning me so I’m straddling him. His right hand comes up to case in my neck, while his left splays across my back, pulling me into him.

Our mouths seal together in a heated kiss, making me desperate to be closer to him. I let my knees spread as far into the grass as my jeans will allow, bringing my center against his stomach.

Right as my hands find the hem of his wet shirt, a throat clears from the other side of the tree.

Nate’s head drops back, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Hey, Dad.”

Oh, fucking lovely.

How did I not hear him coming? I swear, it’s like as soon as Nate’s around, all jaw-dropping and irresistible, all Nate-like, something in my head blocks out everything else.

I’m not sure that’s normal.

“Thought you and your…friend might need some help getting out of here.” He says the word ‘friend’ as if there should be a question mark after it.

Nate’s eyes widen when I wink at him, and he watches in horror as I round the tree. In my bra and jeans.

At least it’s a cute bra, though. Matches my Chucks.

With my head held high, I reach out to shake Nate’s dad’s hand. “Mr. Monroe.”

A smile twitches his lips as he holds a hand out to me. “Ms. Embers.”

When my head pulls back, he laughs.

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard all about you.”

My scowl flies to Nate, who quickly shakes his head.

His dad’s chuckle draws my attention back to him. “I’ve been married a very long time, so I know what that look means.” He grins and holy shit! He looks like an old, hot version of his son. “Rest assured, pretty one,” Oh, he’s smooth like him, too, “he hasn’t shared anything you’d be upset about. He’s at least that smart.” He winks.

“Okay, Dad.” Nate grumbles, stepping around to stand directly in front of me.

This only makes his dad’s smile grow into a full-blown grin that makes his dark eyes shine as they shift from me to Nate and back again.

They stand there staring at each other for a good minute. Nate, with his eyes narrowed; Mr. Monroe, with a grin.

“Uh…” The scowl and grin turn on me. “This whole silent brain to brawn thing is super cool and all,” both their brows jump, “but I’d much rather not be standing here in my bra.”

Then I think about what I just said. “Well, not with Mr. Monroe here anyway.”

Nate’s head drops to his chest while his dad does his best to cover his laugh with a fake cough.

His dad walks over to the neon green ATV, and Nate grabs at the hem of his shirt.

My eyes watch the show.

His shirt is wet. Soaked, really, so I’m not surprised to see the remnants of water left behind when he peels it from his skin, giving me a nice and slow look at his no-need-to-flex-I’m-that-damn-good abs. As he pulls it over his head, a tiny drop of water makes its way down the center of his chest.

I hadn’t realized I moved until his hand closes over my wrist.

My eyes fly to his, finding them dark and dilated, with a hint of laughter.

His dad does nothing to hold in his laugh this time.

Nate releases my hand and pulls his freezing shirt over my head. Instantly, it works like a cold shower would.

He sees the defiance in my eyes and narrows his. “Leave that on,” he scowls, bending down to grab mine off the ground.

“I’ll leave it on.” I step out from under the semi-safety of the tree, and am instantly drenched with more rain. “Not because you told me to, so don’t get excited, but because I’m riding in the middle and it’d be weird if I didn’t.”

“I can’t wait to get her to the house,” his dad grins, his arms crossed over his chest.

Nate grumbles something under his breath then walks to the ATV.

When his dad fires up the toy, Nate’s hand splays across my stomach and his thighs press more firmly into my backside.

“No funny business, Monroe,” I snap.

“Never,” they say in unison, both letting out deep, rich laughs before we’re on the move.

Men.

It only takes a minute or tow, then we’re pulling in front of the off-side garage, where his dad kills the engine.

Nate steps off, offering a hand to me as he does, grumbling when I smack it away and hop off myself.

“Ready?” His dad rubs his hands together in what appears to be excitement.

“Might as well get it over with,” Nate mumbles, ushering me forward.

As I make my way up the front steps, I watch my fingers run across the worn, white wood, allowing them to travel up the post a few inches. Once I hit the top step, my eyes lock onto the swing.

The blanket Nate had laid across the bottom is still there, spread out across the seat. I can’t help but wonder if we were the last two to sit there; if the blanket’s imperfect placement with lumps and creases are from our bodies; from us simply sitting, living.

Despite the sodden clothes I’m wearing, warmth radiates through me in a way I’m not familiar with.

“Hey.” Nate’s coarse hand skims across my cheek soothingly.

Reluctantly, my eyes pull from the swing to his.

He tucks my wet hair behind my ear, earning a grin from me.

I answer the question his eyes are asking. “I’m good, Handsome.”

He nods, but makes no move to release me.

“Nate…” his dad says quietly, almost hesitant, like he’s interrupting something he shouldn’t.

Nate tilts his head toward the doorway where his dad stands. “Ready?”

I nod, unable to take my eyes off Nate.

He drops his hand from my face and we walk through the front door.

“Honey,” his dad calls out.

“Oh!” a sweet voice responds. “Did you get to see her? Was she as pretty as he said?”

I turn to Nate with an eyebrow raised.

He smirks.

“Well?” she yells out when no one answers. “Did you?”

Then a beautiful woman in her late forties comes around the corner, wearing a hot pink apron that reads ‘Property of Ian Monroe’ proudly.

Her hair is dark, like Nate’s, and lays at her shoulders, but her eyes are lighter than his, more caramel.

“Oh shit!” she says, then her hand flies to her mouth. “Sorry.”

I laugh and walk further into the house, waving a hand at her. “Hi.”

“Wow.” She looks me over from head to toe. “I can’t even imagine what you look like normally-”

“Here we go...” I hear Nate say from behind me, while his dad steps up next to his wife, laughing.

Suddenly her shoulders slump, and her husband laughs even harder, placing a kiss to her hair as if reading her mind. “I want to be young and perfect and in love.”

My eyes grow wide, and my body freezes.

“Ma! No.” Nate grabs my hand and forces me to move toward the stairs. “Talk to your wife, Pops,” he yells as his foot hits the first stair. “We’ll be down in a bit.”

“Wait, what!” I start to protest. I may not care about others’ opinions of me, but I’m not a disrespectful bitch.

“Go on,” his mom calls out and my eyes fly to her.

She winks at me.

Winks. At. me.

Halfway up the stairs, his mother’s voice rings out again. “We’re going to have a cup of coffee out back!” she tells us, adding in a rush, “Outweigh before you play!”

Once inside Nate’s room, he shuts the door behind us.

“What the hell did she just say?” I whisper-yell.

He laughs and walks past me, stopping at his dresser. “Exactly what you think.” He pulls out a few t-shirts and sweats. “Weigh out the consequences versus the actions.” He turns with a grin, “Aka, no grandbabies allowed.”

My brows jump. “So, she just gave us the clear to get down and dirty?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he chuckles, walking toward what appears to be a bathroom in his room. When he disappears through the door, I allow myself to look around.

Surprisingly, his room is clean and neat.

His walls are tan, thank God, with posters of random football players scattered sporadically across them, and a few small shelves, holding trophy after trophy from all his years of football.

There is a large bed, not quite as big as mine, pushed against the left wall, his brown, wooden dresser and closet across from it. The window on the wall opposite the bed has a small gamer chair placed next to it. That’s when I notice the cinema-worthy TV hanging from the wall, game consoles beneath it on a nifty hanging stand.

“Damn.”

Nate’s arm wraps around me from behind. “Big, isn’t it?”

“That’s what she said.”

He laughs, reaching for my hand. “Come on.”

He leads me into the bathroom, letting go of my hand to adjust the settings in the shower, so I start stripping down.

“That should be good.” He glances over his shoulder quickly, doing a double take when he realizes I’m half-naked, shirt on the floor, jeans halfway down my hips.

“Fuck,” he curses, frozen in place, his body still facing toward the shower, eyes on me.

I lower my jeans the rest of the way, pulling the wet material from my body in a not at all sexy manner, but if his labored breath is any indication, he’s enjoying it.

I duck under his arm into the steamy shower, his eyes following me. Stepping under the warm water, still wearing my pink thong, I wink at him and slide the door closed.

I wait at least fifteen seconds - long enough for him to fight the internal battle and convince himself to walk away - then toss my underwear over the top of the shower and wait.

Three, two…

The shower door bursts open and Nate charges in, finding me leaning against the wall behind the spray of the water, waiting for him.

He stops in front of the water, his gaze raking over every exposed inch of me, before settling on my face.

“I can make this quick.” His eyes ask for permission.

So confident. Sexy.

A smile from me is all it takes for him to lift me by my thighs, and press me against the shower wall. Our mouths connect and I’m sinking down onto his bare dick in seconds.

And he wasn’t wrong, ‘cause with little to no effort, he has me on edge – boy’s got moves.

“Shhh,” Nate coos, his hand reaching for my chin, bringing my mouth back to his. He kisses me deeply to cover the moan that escapes when he grinds against me, as if he knew it was coming before I did, and I bite into his lip to keep from crying out.

“There you go,” he whispers, never taking his eyes off me as I shudder in his arms. He rolls his hips once more before quickly setting me on my feet. Placing my limp hand over his dick, he helps me work him as he comes all over my stomach.

His forehead drops to the wall over my right shoulder, while mine falls to his chest.

After a few minutes, neither of us say anything as we both reach for the soap and clean ourselves off. When I go to rinse my hair of conditioner, Nate’s arms wrap around my body from behind.

“Water’s getting cold,” he breathes into my neck, warming me all over again.

“You tryin’ to warn me of some possible shrinkage?” I tease.

“There’d still be plenty, even if there was shrinkage. Which there isn’t.”

My laughter dies on my lips when his rough hands come up, cupping as much of my breasts as he can fit in his palms.

“Step out of the shower, Kalani. Now,” he whispers into my ear. “Or else we’ll be in here for a while.” He nips at my earlobe. “I have no intentions of being quick next time around.”

My head falls back against his shoulder. “I think I’ll stay right here then, thanks.”

His laughter shakes both our bodies.

Quickly, he releases me, gently shoving my wet body out of the shower, and closes the door.

I laugh when I hear him adjust the setting again, presumably turning what’s left of the hot all the way down.

After brushing out my hair, I go to put on the clothes Nate left out for me, but my whole body fits in one leg of his sweats. “Ugh, Nate. This stuff doesn’t fit!” I call out from his room.

“Look around, grab whatever!”

With his okay, I skim through the shirts in his closet, pausing when I come to his jersey. I pull it out, turning it to see his last name stitched in big, bold, red letters, the number twenty-one large and proud beneath it. Smiling, I place it back on the rack.

I end up finding a white wife beater, and use it as a stand in for a bra. I throw a navy blue, long-sleeved thermal that hangs just above my knees over it. The black tube socks I pull on are so large there’s only a good three inches of skin showing between them the shirt, so I decide a rolled-up pair of Nate’s briefs is enough for under.

Nate comes out of the bathroom, his hair dripping and towel wrapped tightly around his waist, stopping at the foot of the bed I’m currently sprawled across.

“That,” he motions with his head to my body. “Yeah. You keep that.” His tongue runs across his bottom lip and I can’t help but laugh.

One knee starts to lift onto the mattress.

“Oh, no!” My eyes go wide and I fly off the bed. “The safety of the loud shower was one thing, but no way in hell right here, right now, with nothing for your parents to hear but that bed post knocking.”

He stares at me for a few seconds, before the lust fades and he nods in agreement. “Right.” He dashes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with more urgency than necessary.

Once he steps back into the room, fully dressed, he makes his way to the door, turning to look at me with a goofy grin in place. “Lead the way, Ms. Embers.” He winks.

This should be interesting.