As promised, I didn’t bother getting fully dressed. I dug in my bag for a pair of jeans and slipped them on along with a pair of slippers I found sitting beside Aaron’s closet. I almost reached for a top when I was struck by a much better idea.

I already had a punishment coming my way. Why not ramp it up a little? With a grin, I opened Aaron’s closet and snagged one of his white shirts. Instead of being naked when he came back, he’d find me waiting in the kitchen wearing only his shirt.

As I slid my arms into the sleeves, I realized the biggest appeal of my idea wasn’t the punishment—it was the delay of the serious talk we needed to have. But was it so wrong to want to cling to the limited time we were spending together this weekend? It was already interrupted once by his work. Surely that bought me a reprieve.

Satisfied with my reasoning, I grabbed my keys and slipped out of the house, locking his door behind me. I rushed to the mailbox and grabbed what was there, grateful that there was only a thick forest on the other side of the road. Walking from one house to another dressed like this was pretty damning.

Sugar rubbed against my legs and purred as soon as I entered the house. I flicked the lock—the move already second nature after Aaron’s insistence—before heading into the kitchen. Once she was distracted by wet food, I headed back to the door. I did promise to drop and run, after all.

The rattling of the doorknob scared me half to death—as did the clattering that came after. Was Aaron already done? I sprinted to the living room windows and pulled back the curtain, my eyes drawn to the black sedan pulling away from the curb.

What the hell?

Leaning over the back of the couch, I caught a mere glimpse of blonde hair and a green dress before the front door creaked open.

Oh no. No, no, no. It couldn’t be. Not now.

“Jessa? Where are you, honey?”

They came back early! Panicked, I spun around and raced back toward the kitchen. I needed to get to the back door, but I could only move so fast in the oversized slippers. The sound of rapid footsteps behind me made it clear that I wasn’t going to make a clean getaway.

Crap.

“Jessa. What the hell are you doing?”

I froze with my hand on the doorknob. My eyes started to burn with unshed tears just from the sound of my Dad’s amused voice. As I turned around, I felt like a deer caught in headlights.

Never mind the fact that I was just coming to terms with how I wanted to tell my parents about my new job, but this? This I hadn’t even had a chance to think about yet. Nothing came to mind for me to say. All I could do was wordlessly splutter as frowns appeared on their faces.

“You’re a mess, dear. What’s—” Mom stopped as her eyes left my face. They promptly widened in horror as she asked, “Whose shirt is that?”

“I-It’s not what you think!”

Funny how that was the first thing that came to mind when I didn’t have the faintest idea what they could possibly be thinking. If anything, my words just multiplied the tension.

“Jessa? Whose shirt is that?” Mom repeated with a hard edge to her voice.

“I... I don’t...”

I didn’t know what to say. Nothing would come out—not even the truth. I was too stunned to react.

Dad had been eerily silent, so I dared to take a glance at his face. He was staring at my feet with a frown, his lips pursed tightly together. Mom was oblivious to his expression.

“Answer me! Is there a man here?! Did you—”

“That son of a bitch,” Dad interrupted with a harsh growl. “I’ll kill him!”

The shirt was inconspicuous enough, but the slippers apparently weren’t. Mom’s mouth opened and closed a few times before she followed his gaze with a frown.

“Those look just like the slippers we gave to Aaron for... Oh, God.”

Without a word, Dad spun around and marched out of the kitchen. The front door slammed shut and the sound spurred both me and my mom into action—her following behind Dad and me darting out the back door, hoping to cut him off. I took off the slippers as soon as I reached the grass and broke into an outright run.

“Stop! Dad, stop! He’s not even there!” I shouted as I caught up to him and tried to block his path. “He’s at work.”

“Then I’ll wait,” he growled, sidestepping my outstretched arms. He continued marching to the door, surprising me when he abruptly stopped and spun around to face me as he yelled, “How long?! How long has this been going on?!”

“Roger, calm down,” Mom hesitantly said from somewhere behind me.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s been—he’s been screwing our daughter, Vanessa!”

“Remember what the doctor said. Your blood pressure...”

She trailed off and I watched as he made a visible effort to relax. Was there something wrong with Dad? Since when did he have problems with his blood pressure? For that matter—since when did my parents take spontaneous vacations?

My face drained as the implications began to hit. Something had to be wrong. If everything was fine, his expression wouldn’t be softening as he forced himself to relax.

“Dad? Are you sick?”

His jaw clenched. Mom and Dad exchanged a pointed look before he let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s nothing serious, but now’s not the time for that. Answer my question. How long have you two been—been... damn it!”

“A few weeks,” I admitted quietly, looking down at the ground and wishing it would open up and swallow me whole. “We ran into each other the day you guys went on vacation.”

A pair of warm hands gripped my shoulders, drawing my attention up. Dad was staring hard at my face as he said, “Jessa, I need you to be completely honest with me. I need you to tell me if he ever did anything to make you uncomfortable while you were living here.”

My head tilted to the side, but it took a few long moments for the implication to actually work its way into my mind.

My eyes widened with horror as I rapidly shook my head and shouted, “God, no! Not once!”

I knew it must have been a shock, but did he really think Aaron was the kind of man who was capable of something like that? If so, their friendship wasn’t as close as I once thought.

His shoulders slumped in relief, but the angry look remained. Nodding to himself, he said, “Good. When’s he get home from work?”

“I-In an hour or two?”

“And he made you wait for him in our house?” he asked, his voice rising with every word.

“Roger.”

It was a stern warning.

“N-No. I was just feeding Sugar. I was about to head back when you came home.”

“Good. We’ll wait there.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

My protest was cut short when he marched up Aaron’s steps. He tried the doorknob and frowned, raising an expectant eyebrow in my direction.

“I’m not leaving.”

And I wasn’t letting him into Aaron’s house.

“Then we’ll wait on the porch,” I said firmly, surprising both my parents and myself. “I... don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go in there.”

Considering I didn’t shut the bedroom door when I left and the evidence of our night of passion was carelessly littered around the room... yeah. Definitely not going inside.

They seemed to catch on and Mom frowned while Dad’s fists clenched. Instead of speaking, he plopped down on the porch swing and folded his arms across his chest like a petulant child. Mom eased herself down to the steps beside me, hesitating before placing a hand on my shoulder and pulling me toward her. Dad huffed, but none of us said a word.

Not until the cruiser pulled into the driveway half an hour later.