I’d spent most of the last two and a half years alone in my garage, and it had never bothered me.

Until now.

It’d been exactly two weeks since Fourth of July—since Kristy discovered my age, turned her back on me, and shut me out. Fourteen days spent alone. Well, technically thirteen if I took into account the day Emma had come over to hang out after she learned we were neighbors. But other than that, it was just me and my furniture.

On the bright side, I’d been able to get Kristy’s kitchen island finished. Now that I didn’t have to prolong it until my birthday, there was no need to hold onto it. All it did was remind me of her, of the deal we’d made and the promises I still planned to fulfill.

My latest plan to make her talk was to deliver the table, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get it inside herself, which meant she’d need my help. That would at least get me in the door. What happened after that was up to me—it was a good thing I had a lot of determination where Kristy was concerned.

Even though the sun had started to set, by the time I finished wheeling the dolly through the grass between our driveways, I had perspiration lining my brow and the back of my neck. I parked the cabinet in front of the garage and jogged to her front door. After knocking, I retreated down the steps and waited…there was no way I’d be able to stand that close to her and maintain a respectable distance.

She opened the door and froze. The only part of her that continued to move were her eyes as she slowly raked them up and down my body. It was enough to assure me that her avoidance had nothing to do with my physical appearance. Just my age.

Although, once she shook off her initial reaction, her expression soured. It was a visual depiction of her thoughts, that she wished she hadn’t answered the door—which might’ve had something to do with the fact that I had the bottom of my shirt pulled up to wipe my forehead, exposing my abs.

I nudged my head to the left, gesturing to the piece of furniture I had waiting for her that she couldn’t see. “I have the island for your kitchen. I think it’ll be best to bring it around the back. I don’t really want to attempt getting it up these steps, and it won’t fit through the laundry room.”

She held her mouth agape and scanned the street, as though she were looking for someone, not looking out for anyone. When her eyes found mine again, I couldn’t turn away from the dull jade, heavy with confusion. I’d never seen them that color before, and I never wanted to again. The sight alone left me angry—though I only had myself to be upset with.

This was my fault.

And I still had three more weeks before I could do anything about it.

“Ash…I can’t accept that island from you.”

It took a moment to comprehend what she’d said, and once I did, it took everything in me to stay where I was, not go to her, and not lose my temper. “Why not? I told you I’d make it, and I did. It’s done, just waiting for you to let me in so I can set it up.”

“No, it’s not right. I can’t afford it, and there’s no way in hell I’m taking it for free. Sell it. Put it on one of those online marketplaces. Or let that guy put it in his shop. At least get something for it.”

“Not happening. It’s yours. I made it for you. Not to sell it to someone else.” I took a step closer, fighting the desire to touch her the way I used to.

Her lids closed, and she took a deep breath. It should’ve been enough to prepare me for what she would say next, but it didn’t come close. “I don’t have the money, Ash. And I don’t feel right taking it from you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t accept it.”

With my eyes locked on hers, I slowly made my way up the steps until I stood in front of her, less than a foot separating us. I probably should’ve been more careful of where we were or who could’ve seen us, but in that moment, I didn’t care…and it didn’t seem like she did, either. I held the side of her face, surprised when she didn’t push me away, and swiped my thumb along her soft, milky cheek. “I don’t want your money, Kristy.”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times without making a single sound, her gaze never falling from mine. But before she could pull herself together enough to form words, tires squealed on the driveway, breaking us apart in an instant.

I stood aside enough to see Emma’s car. When she climbed out of the driver’s side, she was too busy studying the furniture in front of the garage to even notice me on the porch, let alone that I was there with her mom. Had I known that, I wouldn’t have been so quick to jump away.

Kristy slid around me, filling the air with her floral fragrance that I couldn’t get enough of. And as if I hadn’t just rattled her by standing in her personal space, she smiled and greeted her daughter. “Hey, Emma. I thought you would’ve been here by now.”

I casually moved down the steps with my hands in my pockets. It was about the only way I could guarantee I wouldn’t try to touch Kristy again. “Hey, Em. Making Wednesday visits now?”

She stilled for a moment, more than likely surprised to see me, but she quickly shook it off. “Yeah, it’s Dad and Jenny’s anniversary, and my sister is at her grandparents’ house. So my Mom was kind enough to invite me over for dinner. She didn’t want me to be alone.”

“Thomas busy or something?” I figured if I kept up the small talk, she wouldn’t question my presence too much. “And Tori?”

“Thomas is working, and Tor met some new guy.” Emma cocked her head to the side and narrowed her gaze. “You here for dinner, too?”

“No, he was—”

“Nah,” I said, cutting off Kristy’s response. “I made that for your kitchen and just finished it. Your mom was just about to open the back door so I can wheel it in and get it all set up for you guys.”

Kristy wasn’t too happy with being put on the spot—or the wink I tossed her way.

Emma moved closer to the cabinet and studied it. “Wow, that’s fancy. I didn’t know you had him make a new one. This is going to look amazing.” She turned to Kristy, then smiled at me. “I have to go inside anyway, so I’ll get the door. That way, Mom can give you a hand if you need it.”

Kristy took a breath and opened her mouth to protest, yet Emma didn’t give her a chance to say anything before she was gone. That was when she pinned me with her glare, her top lip curled with intense irritation.

“Yeah, babe…I might need a hand.” There was no way she missed that insinuation, evident by the rolling eyes and exaggerated huff directed at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.”

“That’s enough, Ash. And stop calling me babe. It’s not appropriate.”

Keeping my opinion to myself, I tugged on the cart to get the wheels to move, and then switched to the back end to push it through the grass. The entire time I hauled it around the side yard, Kristy stayed behind me, not saying a word though making her presence known by her heavy stomps and frustrated sighs.

Emma already had the French doors wide open by the time we rounded the corner to the back of the house, making it easy to continue the forward motion. The only part that took a little extra effort was getting the thick wheels over the threshold without jostling the table.

“Mom, you made enough spaghetti to feed an army. Who all were you expecting to be here? I mean, you did know that Dad and Jenny were going out to eat, right? As in…not coming here?”

“Yes, Emma. I’m fully aware of how much food we have. It was a box of noodles, a jar of sauce, and a pound of meat. That just means I’ll have leftovers to last until next week.” Apparently, Kristy had lost her patience with everyone tonight.

“Have you had dinner yet, Ash?” At Emma’s question, I smiled while Kristy groaned.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve spent all day getting this ready, which means I skipped lunch, so I’m starving.”

Kristy ignored me while she rolled the old butcher’s cart out of the way. The entire time we maneuvered around the kitchen, she avoided eye contact and only spoke when she needed to say something. There was a good chance I’d pushed too far, but I couldn’t turn back now—not that I wanted to. I’d spent two weeks trying to get her attention, and now that I had a chance to be in her space, right in front of her, I refused to give that up.

“Good, then you can help eat some of this.” Emma certainly seemed proud of herself. “You’re a big guy, so I’m assuming you can really pack it in.”

Kristy arched one brow and pointed a warning stare at her oblivious daughter. “I was planning on saving the extras so I wouldn’t have to cook for the rest of the week.”

Emma waved her off and grabbed three plates out of the cabinet. “Who are you fooling, Mom? You hate leftovers. How many times have I had to dump containers of food because you put it in the fridge and then never touched it again?”

Normally, this would be the time when I’d say something like, “It’s not a big deal; I can just find something at my house,” but instead, I took the plate Emma offered and thanked her. When I peered over my shoulder at Kristy, expecting to see irritation or anger riddling her expression, I was surprised to find a sheen of tears lining her despondent eyes as she attempted to unload the pots and pans beneath the old cart.

I set my plate on the counter and went to her, hating how bad things had gotten between us. Lightly holding her arm to make her stop what she was doing, I whispered, “Don’t worry about that right now. We can move all this over after dinner.”

Even though she refused to meet my gaze, she did as I asked and stopped removing the pans from the bottom. After discreetly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she followed me to the cooktop where we all filled our plates.

I had given myself more than I normally would’ve eaten, but I figured that would give me more time at the table with Kristy. It was a great idea in theory. In reality, it was equivalent to torture.

If it weren’t for Emma, we all would’ve eaten in silence. And to be honest, half the time, I wished we had. She entertained us with her summer adventures, and having Thomas in common helped. However, anytime she brought up school—or anything remotely close to the subject—Kristy visibly shuttered and withdrew entirely. It was more than I could handle, and it gutted me that I couldn’t do anything about it other than redirect the conversation. And there were only so many times I could effectively do that.

After dinner, Emma excused herself to the bathroom. I had to act fast and utilize this borrowed time to my advantage.

I took my plate to the sink and slid next to Kristy, hovering just behind her shoulder. “Kristy…please talk to me.” It was as low as I could talk without it being a whisper, which did nothing but amplify the agony in my tone.

She turned her head to speak without risking Emma overhearing. “This is not the time nor place for that, Ash. And I don’t think you should be calling me by my first name.”

“Why? What’s wrong with it?”

She shrugged, yet she didn’t stop washing the already spotless plate in her hand to look at me. “I don’t know…it’s just wrong.”

“Says who?”

“Says the law.” Then she leaned closer and whispered, “You’re a minor.”

I settled my hand on her lower back, feeling her body tense as I dipped my face closer to hers. “I think it’s safe to say that referring to you by your first name isn’t illegal. Impolite, maybe. But it’s certainly not against the law.” Lowering my voice to nothing more than a growly murmur, I added, “Unless I’m buried nine and a half inches inside you while using it…though at that point, I doubt the issue would be what name I call you.”

She stopped moving altogether, and from the looks of it, had stopped breathing, too. Without something to go on, I had no idea if her reaction was good or bad, if I’d pushed too hard or just enough. And since I didn’t know that, I had no clue where to go from here. The only thing I could do was step away a few feet and hit the reset button.

“But if you’d rather I call you Ms. Richards, then who am I to argue?”

Several excruciating beats later, she released a full exhale, her shoulders slumping forward. She dropped her chin to her chest, as if she needed a moment to catch her breath, and after a few seconds, she went back to the dishes, disregarding everything I’d said.

Laughter rolled past my smiling lips, but it quickly fell flat when Emma returned to the kitchen. She regarded her mom, and then me, suspicion marring her brow as she studied us for several moments.

“Am I interrupting something?” Apprehension weighed heavily in her tone.

While Kristy’s spine went ramrod straight and her shoulders became stiff, I shook it off and acted casual, completely ignorant to her need to question anything. “Nah, we were just joking around about me calling your mom Ms. Richards.”

Emma’s nose scrunched, and her top lip curled in disgust. Based on the deep creases in her brow, one might assume I had called her mom a MILF. But then she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “That’s stupid, Ash. No one calls her that. Anytime Thomas has tried, she corrects him. She says that makes her feel old, and having a teenager is enough to make her feel that way.”

What I wouldn’t give to see Kristy’s face right now. But while Emma was in the room, I couldn’t even look her way—especially after the doubt in Emma’s eyes when she had first walked in. I didn’t have a clue what she’d seen, or what she thought she saw, so doing anything right now could be risky. I couldn’t chance drawing any unnecessary attention.

“Anyway…I’m heading out, Mom. Thanks for dinner.”

“You’re leaving already?” Even though I couldn’t see her face, Kristy’s apprehension rang loud and clear. “But you just got here.”

Emma laughed while checking her watch. “Actually, I’ve been here for over an hour.” She walked over to her mom and kissed her cheek. “Love you. I’ll see you Friday night. And I promise…I’m all yours this weekend. You’ve been too sad lately, so we’re going to fix that with a little mother-daughter bonding time.”

I tried to act like I wasn’t listening, yet I had heard every word Emma said, paying special attention to the part about Kristy’s recent mood. In a very twisted, fucked-up way, that was a good sign—it meant she cared about me. But on the other hand, it killed me to hear.

“You staying, Ash?” Emma raised one brow like her mother often did.

“Just long enough to finish setting this table up. There are parts for the pull-out drawer I still need to add, and then I have to go over the cleaning instructions. If you’re waiting to walk out with me, just give me like five minutes…ten tops.”

“Oh, you’re fine. I’ll see you later.” She waved over her shoulder on her way to the front door.

As soon as I heard it close and the latch clicked into place, I released a long exhale I didn’t realize I’d held. There was so much I wanted to say, except now that I had the freedom to get it all out, I couldn’t organize my thoughts enough to speak. Leaning into the new table with my hands pressed against the smooth top, the only thing that came to mind was, “So you don’t care if Emma’s other friends call you Kristy? They’re younger than I am…is it only against the law for me?”

Kristy set two cups in the dishwasher and turned to face me, settling against the countertop with her arms crossed. This was the first time she’d looked at me since Emma had shown up, and it seemed all the anger and building frustrations over the last hour were about to explode.

“Call me whatever you want, Ash. It’s not like you’ll take my feelings into consideration or anything. You seem to do what you want when you want. I guess it’s my fault for not knowing I was living in your world.”

The only thing that separated us was the island, yet it might as well have been a football field. She had never felt more distant than she did right now. And if I thought going to her would help, I would have. Except, I was smart enough to know it would only make things worse.

“What are you talking about, Kristy? My world? You think I wouldn’t take your feelings into consideration? I don’t even know what all that means or where it came from. This entire time, I’ve done nothing but respect you and your feelings.”

“Oh, by putting me in a position to lose everything? I just assumed you only thought about yourself, not the fact that I could go to jail.” Her anger wasn’t unjustified, yet it wasn’t exactly warranted, either.

In fact, all it did was provoke my own temper. I slapped the wood top and held her dark gaze for a beat. And with a tense jaw, not quite clenching my teeth, I explained, “You were the only one I fucking thought about. If not, then I would’ve fucked you weeks ago. Age of consent is seventeen. So technically, we could’ve had sex, and it wouldn’t have been against the law, yet I still chose to wait until my birthday. Don’t ever accuse me of not putting you first. Because that’s all I’ve done. Maybe you’re not used to someone looking out for your best interest or making you a top priority, and when it happens, you can’t recognize it. But that’s exactly what I did, Kristy—whether you want to admit it or not.”

Either she wasn’t prepared for my harsh tone or she didn’t know how to process what I had to say, because rather than respond, she stood motionless, the only movement was the low dip in her throat as she swallowed.

I pulled in a long, slow breath and held it for a second to calm down. And with a softer voice, I attempted to bring her back into the discussion. “So, is that why you won’t even look at me when you drive by? Or why you refuse to answer my texts?”

“No, Ash. It’s because you’re a child. I had a hard enough time wrapping my mind around being with you when I thought you were twenty-two. Knowing you’re only seventeen makes me want to vomit.”

“Why, though? Help me understand.” I was two seconds away from jumping over this counter, desperate to hold her until she gave up the war we both knew she didn’t want to be in. “You were into me—me, Kristy. Despite my age then or now, I’m still the same person. And don’t stand here and pretend you only stuck around for the promise of sex, because no one in their right mind would hang on for as long as you did if they didn’t care for the person. So tell me, why does the thought of me make you sick?”

“Because!” She covered her face with her hands, yet the lack of eye contact didn’t stop her from explaining. “I shouldn’t be attracted to you. You’re barely eighteen. You’re still in school.” When she dropped her arms to her sides and lifted her gaze, there was no denying the painful struggle that tore her up inside. “And I’m a single mother—whose daughter isn’t much younger than you. I have a job, a mortgage, responsibilities you can’t begin to understand. I have no business entertaining the idea of any kind of relationship with someone your age.”

“Is that your master plan? To mention our age difference enough so that I feel inadequate or unworthy and eventually give up on the idea of us being together?”

Her eyes became so dull I wondered if all the color was gone; ironically, it matched her lackluster tone. “Is it working?”

“Not one bit. Because I know you don’t believe the garbage you’re telling yourself. I understand why you’re having trouble wrapping your head around being with me right now. Trust me, I get it, which is why I was waiting until next month. But in three weeks, that problem—real or otherwise—is solved.”

“Your age is only part of it, Ash. Turning eighteen won’t eliminate the rest of the hurdles or obstacles that will always be in the way. Your birthday won’t change the fact that I’m sixteen years older than you or—”

“Fifteen,” I corrected, as if that would somehow make her feel better.

“Regardless, I was learning algebraic equations while you were in diapers. You weren’t even two when I gave birth to my daughter. Do you not see anything wrong with that? At all?”

I couldn’t stand having this countertop between us for a moment longer. So, I eased around it until we stood a foot apart, nothing stopping me from reaching out to touch her—other than her panicked disposition. In order to keep myself from cradling her jaw or settling my hands on her curvy hips, I grabbed the edge of the table behind me until the corners of the wood bit into my fingers.

“Trust me, Kristy, I haven’t forgotten for one second that a significant age gap exists between us. But let me be very clear about something. I don’t care if you were performing open-heart surgery when I was born, or if your kid was in high school when I started daycare. It doesn’t matter what you were doing eighteen years ago. The only thing I care about is that from now on, I’m what you’re doing. I don’t give a shit about where you used to be, as long as you’re with me now.”

She glanced away and forced a smile on her lips, as if that would convince me that I hadn’t just gotten to her. Even if it had made me question it, when she faced me again, the burning desire in her eyes would’ve ended the charade. “You have a thing for middle-aged women? Or just lonely thirty-something-year-olds? Next, you’ll tell me you have some rare disease and you’re not expected to live long, and your dying wish is to bang the old maid next door. I hate to break it to you, Ash…but I don’t work for the Make-A-Wish Foundation.”

Fuck holding back.

Fuck keeping my hands to myself.

Damn the rules and what was appropriate and what wasn’t.

I let go of the counter and eliminated every ounce of space between us. When I slid my palm along her cheek, she met my gaze without a single attempt to move away. And when I opened my mouth to speak, she held her breath, as if she worried that the sound of her exhales might prevent her from hearing my every word. “You have no clue, do you? No idea how much I want you—Every. Piece. Of. You. How badly I need you.”

“Ash.” It was only a whisper, yet the warning couldn’t have been missed.

I ignored it and carried on with my attempt to make her hear me. “I lie in bed every night and wonder what your red hair would look like sprawled out across my chest. How long it would take before my pillowcase smelled like your shampoo. Every night I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through it while you drift off, curled into my side.”

“Ash, please.”

“Your eyes leave me dreaming of what color they turn right before you fall asleep. Or what they look like when you first wake up.”

“Come on, that’s enough.” She shook her head, but that still didn’t stop me.

“Your voice is soft and smooth, and I can’t help but imagine what you sound like first thing in the morning—if it’s scratchy or light as air.”

“Asher!” She pressed her palms against my chest to stop me, though she didn’t do or say anything. She didn’t push me away or drop her hands, just stared at her fingers while maintaining her hold on me.

And while I wished she would’ve yelled or screamed or said anything to keep this moving forward, I couldn’t be upset that she chose to withhold her thoughts, because it offered me a chance to get mine out. “I never thought I stood a chance with you…because of my age. But when we were at the pool together, and you asked me to hang out, everything changed.”

Kristy chose that moment to find her strength, stepping back before withdrawing her hands from my chest. “Ash, stop. I’m not sure if I’m some kind of conquest to you, or if you have some sick bet going with your friends, but I’m not into whatever game this is. I want no part of it.”

“It’s nothing like that. Just let me talk. Hear me out, please. After that, if you want to slam the door in my face and never speak to me again, then fine. There’s nothing I can do about it. But as of right now, I can try to explain, so please, let me.”

Her shoulders deflated, yet she didn’t turn me down.

I took a deep breath, straightened my spine, and prayed that I wouldn’t leave here with a broken heart. “You made it very clear that you weren’t interested in anything beyond sex, and I won’t lie, at the time, I wasn’t either. Or…I didn’t think I was. I just had to make it to my birthday, so I asked for the chance to get to know you and told you I’m not the kind of guy to jump into bed with a stranger. The last thing I expected was to develop feelings for you. But somewhere along the way, that’s exactly what happened. And I can’t take it back. I can’t rewind time and change it any more than you can.”

She lifted her gaze, and in the shimmering, golden flares embedded in the sea of blue, I found my confidence. I discovered the reason to continue, to push forward, to make her understand my truth. Because in her eyes, I saw recognition—her own acknowledgment of the things I’d said, letting me know I wasn’t alone in this.

“There’s nothing we can do about my age or how many years separate us. You will always have a daughter who was born before I was potty trained. And no matter how old we get, the fact that you were applying for colleges or studying for your SATs when I took my first breath will still remain.” I leaned forward and placed my hands on the counter behind her, caging her between my arms while refraining from actually touching any part of her. When I dipped my head to bring our faces closer, I was rewarded with her eyes on mine. “But none of that affects how I feel about you. It doesn’t have a damn thing to do with what we could have together. And it certainly won’t impact whatever future might be in store for us.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ash.” While her whispered words feathered my lips, the grit in her voice ripped me open. The desperation embedded in each raspy syllable raked across my skin, leaving behind gaping wounds as raw as her unmasked emotions.

However, everything she didn’t say became the salve I needed to get me through.

At first glance, her reluctance to speak her mind appeared to be uncertainty. But after taking it all in, I was able to see it for what it truly was—fear of admitting she wanted something society would condemn her for. So, rather than expose her vulnerability, she had turned it back on me by making it about what I wanted her to say.

I’d take that over rejection any day. I could work with fear. What I couldn’t do was convince her of something she didn’t agree with.

Dropping my forehead to hers, I closed my eyes and sighed. “Play a game with me.”

“What?” She tried to pull her head away, but I refused to let her.

“Humor me, please. Close your eyes, and when I say something, tell me the first thing that comes to mind. Don’t think about it. Just blurt it out, okay?” I waited for a second, and when she didn’t argue, I continued. “A ripe tomato.”

She hesitated for a beat, but eventually, she gave in. “Salad.”

“A fur coat.”

The smile on her lips lilted her voice when she said, “Snow.”

“Two baby ducks.”

“A pond.”

I decided to try one last random idea before using this to my advantage. “Waves rolling onto a white, sandy beach.”

“Sunburn.” Giggling, she added, “And aloe.”

“Whispered words in your ear.”

Her breathing slowed, though that didn’t stop her from responding. “Warmth.”

“Talking on the phone until three in the morning.”

A shaky exhale delivered her answer. “You.”

“Me.” And then I held my breath while waiting for the unknown.

Even though she wasn’t supposed to contemplate her response, that was exactly what she did. The seconds dragged on, each one more painful than the last. And when she finally spoke, I wished I could’ve gone back in time and ended the game after the last question, just to keep from having to hear her say, “Lies. Deceit. Pain. The boy next door who broke my heart.”

I dropped my hands from the edge of the counter to her hips and pulled her body against mine. Surprisingly, she didn’t fight me, and instead, tucked her face into my chest. I brought my lips as close to her ear as I could without creating space between. “It’s not broken, Kristy. It just feels like that right now. But that tight, bruising pain in your chest is just your body’s natural response to the unexpected bump in the road we hit.”

She didn’t speak, only pressed her face further into me while fisting the sides of my shirt. The heat of each erratic, panic-filled breath seeped through the thin material at the center of my chest. It blistered my skin while desperately attempting to turn my heart into a charred pile of ash and dust.

“Don’t give up, Kristy. Please, babe…whatever you do between now and August ninth, don’t give up on me—on us.”

Finally, she pulled her face away from my chest, and without making eye contact, she nudged me until I took a step back. “You should go. Thank you for the table, but I think I can handle moving everything over from the old one.”

I told myself this wasn’t rejection, that her asking me to leave didn’t mean we were over, just that she needed to be alone to absorb it all. I had to tell myself that; otherwise, I never would’ve left, and despite my need to fix this now, I had to respect her wishes and do as she asked.

Walking away from her had never been harder than it was at that moment. Hell, leaving her house the night she’d discovered my age had been easier. Although, there was a good chance that was only because my unfounded hope had left me delusional. But after fourteen days of utter silence, being completely shut out of her life, that hope had died, which made saying goodbye to her this time that much worse.

I ran the pad of my thumb across her cheek, along her jawline, and down her neck while she stood motionless, her lowered eyelids guarding her true reaction to me. The only hint I got was the slight hitch in her gasping breath when I pressed a soft, chaste kiss right next to her lips. But even that didn’t give away anything other than her surprise.

“Goodnight, Kristy.” I didn’t wait for a response before heading to the door. I refused to give her the opportunity to land one final blow to the little bit of hope I had left, which by this point, was the equivalent of wishing on a shooting star.

Except in my case, it’d be a falling satellite, crashing back to Earth in a raging ball of fire going eighty-four thousand miles per hour. But I was too desperate to care about the details. In fact, had I thought about it, I might’ve done the same with a penny—tossing it into my toilet and calling it a wishing well.

It seemed the old adage of things getting worse before they got better was true.

As much as I had wanted to call or text or knock on Kristy’s door until she answered, I couldn’t. I’d put everything on the table, laid it all on the line for her to do with as she pleased, essentially tying my hands behind my back. The ball was in her court, because I’d put it there, so I had no choice other than wait for her to make the next move.

But after three long, excruciatingly quiet days, I was ready to slip on a black ski mask, sneak onto her court, and take back the ball that she clearly wasn’t interested in playing with. Had it not been Kristy’s weekend with Emma, I would have. And considering this just happened to be the one time Emma stayed home, fulfilling her promise of mother-daughter bonding time, I wasn’t even left with the option to text her, too afraid her phone might fall into the wrong hands.

However, at about two o’clock on Saturday afternoon, a chorus of angels appeared, filling my garage with the sweet harmony of divine intervention. And when I peeked my head around the corner, rays of ethereal light brought my attention to the present I’d been sent from above. There, on the side of Kristy’s house, was a beautifully wrapped gift of golden opportunity, just waiting for me to tear into it.

After verifying that neither Emma nor my dad was outside, I seized the moment before it slipped away, because I wasn’t dumb enough to believe another would come along anytime soon.

Kristy’s disgruntled murmurs grew louder the closer I got. And the longer she stood there, twisting the handle on the spigot attached to the side of her house, the more creative her word choices became. In fact, she’d been so focused on coming up with new ways to use “bitch,” that she didn’t realize I was even there until I reached around her to help. A surprised squeal echoed against the wall before it was silenced by her hand over her mouth.

By forcibly tightening the handle, I’d succeeded in slowing down the amount of water bursting from the faucet, although I wasn’t able to shut it off completely. Now, instead of it shooting out of the nozzle like a fire hydrant, it was more of a misting spray.

“Oh my God, thank you,” Kristy practically sang while trying to wipe the water from her face with her hands. “I don’t know what the hell happened. It wouldn’t turn on at first, but once I got the handle to move, it went everywhere, and by then, I couldn’t get the damn thing off.”

“I’m sure it’s an easy fix. I can take a look at it if you shut off the main water.”

Her lids closed as a sigh, heavy with hopelessness, slipped past her downturned lips. “Ash…” She shook her head with my name caught in her throat, and then she covered her face with her hands, as if attempting to hide from me.

Disregarding the fact that we were outside where anyone could see us, let alone my dad or Emma walking out, I wrapped my fingers around her wrists and gently lowered her arms to her sides. After a few seconds, reality hit, causing her to gasp and jump away with wide, fearful eyes.

I didn’t argue, didn’t push or force her to remain close. Instead, I held her stare. “Kristy, it’s a hose. I think it’s safe to say no one will think twice about seeing me fix it for you.” I smirked and added, “Repairing your leaky pipe isn’t the same as you siphoning mine.”

She blinked a few times, and the moment my teasing comment registered, she rolled her eyes, fighting off the slight curl at the corners of her mouth. “While I agree it’s unlikely anyone would question it, that’s not the reason I can’t accept your help.”

“Then what is?”

Her shoulders rose with the full breath she took, and then dropped when her exhale rushed out in a forceful huff. “Because we need boundaries. You doing everything for me while I just let it happen is a perfect storm waiting to happen. Do you mow anyone else’s grass? Fix their hoses or garage doors? Build them furniture for free? No, you don’t. So why should I allow you to do it for me?”

I nodded, ready to concede. But before I did, there was one last thing I wanted to do. Gripping the handle to the spigot, I took one step toward her, close enough for her to hear me speak in a low tone.

“Fine, Kris. Have it your way. You don’t want my help? I won’t offer it anymore. But can you just do me one favor?” I purposely curled my lips into a sinister grin when she nodded, and then dropped my voice even lower. “I want to hear you scream my name while I get you wet.”

With that, I twisted the knob, releasing the temporary hold it had on the explosive water pressure. She stood in the direct path of the unrelenting spray, and the instant it soaked her entire upper body, she shouted, “Ash!”

Laughing to myself, I walked away, leaving her to turn it off while trying to shield her face enough to see what she was doing. It was a dick move, and it probably made me an asshole, but it guaranteed she’d think about me for the rest of the day. Not to mention, I had every intention of going back over there later to fix it.

I tugged my wet T-shirt over my head as I wandered into the kitchen to wash my hands. Dad took one look at me, then eyed my shirt that sat in a soggy ball of cotton on the counter. “Do I even want to know?” he asked with a faint smirk.

“Leaky hose next door.”

He nodded slowly, his attention set on something through the window over the kitchen sink. As I turned on the faucet to wash my hands, I followed his line of sight, realizing it was locked on Kristy. Catching him staring at her was one thing, but seeing the desire in his eyes while he watched her was enough to fill me with rage and make me want to vomit. In a desperate attempt to rid myself of both urges, I began to furiously clear my throat.

At least it snapped him out of it. “What do you think of her?”

“Huh? Her who?” I could’ve answered that myself, but I really hoped he meant someone else—someone other than the woman who consumed nine out of every ten thoughts I had on a daily basis.

“Kristy. Your girlfriend’s mom.”

I wasn’t sure where he got the idea that Emma and I were dating, especially since he’d only seen me around her once, but that would have to wait. Right now, I was far more interested in why he’d asked for my opinion of Kristy. “Uh, she’s nice. Why?”

“I think I might ask her out. Dinner or drinks, nothing big. But I wanted to see what your thoughts were first. I don’t know how serious you are with her daughter, so I wouldn’t want to make it weird for you.” Oddly enough, his consideration was appreciated—just not the way he probably meant.

“Well, I’m not sure why you’d want to ask her out; you’re rarely home. I’m by no means an expert on relationships, but I would imagine the biggest aspect of dating is…just taking a stab in the dark here…dates? Again, I could be wrong. But in the event that I’m right, I’m not sure how you’d manage to take her to dinner when you’re in another state.”

“I’m home enough to take someone out at least once a week. Although, traveling would pose a problem once things progressed physically.” If he made one more comment about fucking Kristy, he’d learn very quickly just how much I opposed that idea. “Not to mention, it wouldn’t be anything serious to begin with.”

The fact that I continued to entertain this conversation baffled me. “If you’re not looking for a relationship, why bother?”

“Well, I started thinking about how this time next year, you’ll be gone, and I’ll be here by myself. I thought it might be nice to have someone around. I’ve gotten used to the company when I’m home, so the idea of living alone again doesn’t really appeal to me.”

I chose to believe that was his way of saying he’ll miss me after I move out. He wasn’t a bad person, though I fully believed the man lacked the required sensitivity chip to nourish healthy relationships—of any kind. So, in his own way, he basically just admitted that he loved me.

He’d be better off ordering a woman out of a catalog.

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and clapped my hand on his shoulder. “Well, Dad…best of luck to you.”

That was as close to “may the best man win” as I could get.

I left my dad in the kitchen, staring out the window, and headed to the garage to get everything I’d need to fix Kristy’s hose. I knew her well enough to assume she’d mess with it for a few minutes before giving up and calling a professional. If I timed it right, I could shut off the water, repair the leak—it more than likely just needed new tape—then turn the main water back on and go home before she ever realized I was there.

Her text came in after nine, so I could only assume she was in her room. When I peeked through my blinds and noticed light drifting through her blinds, I collapsed onto my bed and prayed this would be more than a few texts back a forth.

It took two minutes for her response to come through.

Again, two more minutes passed before her text popped up.

That’s when she quit responding. Even after I asked if she planned to continue pushing me away, I got nothing back. Then again, her bedroom light was out; although, we’d stayed up enough nights talking for hours that I didn’t believe she was already asleep.

But I didn’t worry about it, because as soon as Emma had gone back to her dad’s, Kristy wouldn’t have the option to ignore me any longer. If she expected me to provide her with answers, then she would have to do the same. After all, I hadn’t kept her in the dark about what I wanted, so really, she shouldn’t have too many questions to ask.

I laid my head on my pillow and closed my eyes, full of confidence and determination for the next day. However, after I woke up and headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water, everything came crashing down around me. All my confidence had burst into flames. My determination dwindled to nothing.

As I stood in front of the sink, staring out the window at my dad outside with Kristy, I realized what a fool I was to believe I had nothing to worry about. Clearly, age was important to her, and my dad’s didn’t pose an issue.