Chapter 23
I tinker with the radio as Isla pulls out of the service station where she just filled up the gas tank of her old clunker.
“Explain to me again why I had to brave rush hour traffic to come pick you up. Your next-door neighbor teaches an art class right across the hall from your math tutorial.” Irritation wrinkles her forehead as she tries to merge onto Clifford Boulevard. A silver Honda eventually slows to let her ease in.
Because I came all over his cock last night and now I’m too ashamed to face him.
“Because Keeland and I aren’t friends,” I say defensively, folding my arms beneath my breasts.
Isla’s eyes dart over to me for a split second. “Jeez — calm down, girl. I know you don’t like him but don’t you think it’s just a wee bit immature that you can’t at least be civil with him? I mean, that whole prom mess was – what? – eight years ago?”
I flinch at her harsh words, but I don’t fight back. Guilt squeezes on my vocal chords. Isla’s probably right about me acting immature but she’s all wrong about my newest reason for avoiding Keeland.
Last night was a temporary lapse in judgment. My tall, muscle-bound, tattooed neighbor showed up at my front door, soaking wet with a boner the size of a freakin’ corn on the cob. I can’t be held accountable for my actions.
But I can say that it will never happen again.
“Sammie — are you even listening to me?” Isla asks, snapping her fingers in my face.
“What?” I ask, blinking out of my thoughts.
“I asked if we can meet up to discuss some of my accounting stuff next week. I don’t think the numbers are adding up and I’m worried about my cash flow. I could use your opinion.” She shoves her hand into the takeout bag sitting on top of the hand brakes and pulls out a celery stick. Isla’s idea of fast food is raw vegetables, bland meats and boring, low-calorie dips from Herbivore, the health food to-go restaurant next to her yoga studio.
“Sure,” I say with a one-shouldered shrug and a half-smile. From the outside, it seems that the Prasanna Light Oneness Studio is thriving – Isla’s yoga classes are always well-attended and she has loyal customers – but I know that she’s struggling. Her rent is killer and there’s a limit on how much she can increase her prices in a small town like Reyfield.
“What’s up with you?” Isla’s forehead creases as she quickly glances at me again before making a left onto Hyatt. “You’re completely distracted. This has something to do with Keeland, doesn’t it?”
I can’t hold it in anymore. Isla’s my best friend and I need to get this secret off my chest. “We fucked last night!” I blurt out and then my hands clasp tightly over my mouth.
Isla gasps so hard that she erupts into a fit of coughs. “I —” Cough-cough. “I — I knew it!” Cough. “I knew you two would end up fucking!” Her eyes are watering now.
I frown at her. “What are you talking about? It was an accident. A mistake.”
“An accident?” Her gaze shifts over to me, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “The tension between the two of you has been building since we were teenagers. Sex was bound to happen eventually.” She slaps her hands against the steering wheel. “So spill…was it fucking awesome?”
I stare straight ahead, the events of last night playing out before my eyes like a movie. “No…” I say slowly. “Then, hell yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, at first he came really fast.” Stop talking, Sammie. I grab a grilled chicken stick from the takeout bag and shove it into my mouth to shut myself the hell up.
Isla grimaces. “Oh, hun. I’m so sorry.”
But she doesn’t quite understand what I’m trying to say. “No Isla — at first, he came fast…but then, we did it again. Over and over and over. With his tongue and his hands and his cock. I don’t want to get too graphic, but —” I reach over and catch her hand in mine. “Isla…” I say giving her ‘the eyes’ and she automatically knows what I mean.
“It was that good?” she questions, a skeptical curl on the edges of her lips.
I nod wistfully. “It was that good.”
She grins wide. “Well, apparently the enjoyment was mutual,” she says tipping her chin in the direction of my front yard just as Keeland parks his truck haphazardly in the driveway and rushes across the slushy lawn up to my front steps.
My heart volleys against my chest. I watch him ring the doorbell before he uses his big hand to shade his eyes and peep in through the living room window.