Out of the four of us, I was by far the guy who struggled the most with being rich. It sounded stupid as hell to struggle with the idea of suddenly having everything, house, cars, money for luxury vacations, but for me, my shitty upbringing wasn't so much about not having new clothes for school or a decent coat for winter, it was about not having a family that cared about my existence. The first time my parents' lack of interest in me really hit hard was after a three day stay at Chase's house. I went in through the kitchen door, and my mom looked up from her coffee. She was a mess from partying too much and all I could think was how badly I wanted her just to look like a mom with neatly cut hair and pink lipstick, like the other moms in town. That morning, after I'd been gone for three days without a call home, she looked confused to see me. I figured she was still stoned out of her mind and she didn't even know who I was. But it was worse than that. She glanced back down the hallway toward my room and then took a sip of coffee before speaking. 'You're up early, Aidan' she said. I'd been gone three days and she'd had no idea. So while my friends dreamt about fast cars and big houses, I dreamt about being in a family that gave a damn. And now I had one—my three best friends. They'd been there all along, it just took me until adulthood to figure it out.

I was finally getting comfortable with the idea that I could live like a rich man. I turned the car on the winding road that led up to the home site. I hadn't had time to check in on the progress and during our dinner date, I'd decided to show Jane.

"I'm excited to see your place, but it's dark out. I'm assuming there won't be any electricity."

"No, they've only got the framing done. I brought a flashlight."

She gazed out the window at the houses in my future neighborhood. "All the houses are so beautiful. Why didn't you just buy one that was already built?"

"I looked at a few but when you're my size, regular houses are just too small. I need higher door jambs and space in the kitchen and bathroom. Along with counters and vanities that are taller."

"So you're building a house for a giant."

"Actually, I'm building a place where I won't feel like a freaky giant because everything will be my size."

She sat back against the seat and straightened her dress. "What if you marry a petite little woman?" She stretched to sit up a little higher. "Someone like me? Not that I'm suggesting you marry me, but hypothetically speaking."

"Well, I suppose I'll have to find a tall woman to marry so she fits the house."

"Oh." The disappointment in her voice made me laugh.

"Or I could marry a short woman and just buy some step stools."

She nodded once. "I like that idea better. Tall women are—well, they are just so darn tall."

"You haven't talked about the second audition for the movie part. How did it go?"

Jane fidgeted with the fabric on her dress. "I don't want to say because I worry that if I talk about it, I will jinx myself."

"Gotcha. I won't bring it up again until you do." I pulled up to the building site. The tall frames of the house looked like naked trees standing straight up from the ground.

Jane leaned forward to see better through the front windshield. "It's darker up here than I expected, but it looks big."

"It's a little smaller than the surrounding houses. In square footage, anyhow." The next neighbors were a good acre away, so any light from the other houses was minimal. I reached behind the seat for the flashlight.

We climbed out of the car. Jane pulled the sweater she was wearing closed around her.

"A fresh breeze floats up the hillside every evening, so I'm having big windows built across the front of the house both for the view and to keep the house cool in summer."

Jane stopped and looked back down the hill. "It’s a fantastic view." She worked hard to keep the skirt of her dress from floating up. "And there's definitely a breeze."

I watched her push one corner of her dress down only to have another one puff up. "I think I've just found another thing I like about that breeze. No one can see you except me, Jane. I say let those panties show. In fact, I'm kind of wishing you hadn't worn any." I pointed the flashlight into the house. "Leave the dress alone, Marilyn Monroe, and follow me."

We walked through the future double door entrance.

"It doesn't look like much now, but if you use a heavy dose of imagination—" I flashed the light into a corner. "That's the kitchen and the dining room. The living room is here along with a game room, because I never actually grew up."

Jane followed close at my heels. "Yes, a big imagination is needed. But I can see that the walls and doors look taller than average."

I headed down the plywood floor that would eventually be a hallway. I stood in the center of a framed room and waved my arms around. "And this is the master bedroom where I will eventually have a big bed and you will be stretched out in the middle of it. Naked, of course."

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her, long and hard.

She was breathless by the time I lifted my mouth away.

"Damn, I wish this thing was farther along." I ran my finger along the top of her bodice, tracing the curves of her breasts. "There's not even a wall to push you up against."

"No, but the last time I checked your car had a spacious backseat. I haven't made out in the backseat of a car since—"

She bit her lip as I lifted a curious brow at her.

"Well, since never. I was just not the backseat kind of girl." She blinked innocently up at me.

"Right." I took hold of her hand. "Then I say we make you a backseat kind of girl right now."

We walked out of the house and frame. I stopped midway back to the car. "Wait, I just remembered something. I don't fit in the backseat of my car."

She laughed as she swung around to hug me. "You poor freakishly big man, you really weren't meant to live with mortals, were you? I guess that means we'll just have to go back to our crummy old apartment building and drown out the televisions on our floor with our cries of passion."

We continued toward the car. "That works."