John’s truck was gone when I came in from the field, but Hannah’s car was parked right under the oak tree. Dusk settled in, cooling the muggy air and cueing the crickets in the tall grass. I loaded the half-empty paint cans into the bed of my truck, peeled my sweat-soaked shirt off and threw it to the floorboard. The light to Hannah’s room turned on, catching my attention just as she passed in front of the window in nothing but a little tank top and underwear. She danced around in her room, more carefree than I’d ever seen her. Her back was to the window and she shook her hips from side to side, reminiscent of some Shakira dance move. She grabbed the bottom of her shirt and started to lift it over her head, and while I knew damn well I should look away, I didn’t. Sure, maybe it made me an absolute jerk, but I had slept next to her for nearly a week and done nothing but kiss her. No matter how hard I tried, my dick wouldn’t let me move my eyes away from that window. Her shirt came off. She froze and slowly glanced over her shoulder. Right at me.

My heart banged against my ribs, because how the hell was I going to get out of that without sounding like a complete pervert? Slowly, she turned around, making a show of dropping her shirt to the floor. And there she stood, completely topless in front of her window with her eyes set on me.

I had one hand on the tailgate of my truck, my jaw, no doubt, unhinged. A timid grin worked over her face as she leaned closer to the window, waving before she pulled the curtain closed.

Damn. Damn!

I swiped a hand over my face before glancing back at the road. I had no idea where John had gone, but what I did know was that Hannah was up there with no shirt on and I my dick was harder than concrete. Adjusting myself, I walked up the steps to the front porch and knocked on the door. I could hear feet pound down the steps. The knob twisted. When she opened the door, she was in nothing but a pair of baby blue boy shorts. Nothing but the boy shorts. “Hey,” she smiled.

I swallowed, trying to lift my gaze from her tits to her face. “Well, that’s a greeting.” I bit the inside of my cheek when I stepped inside and closed and locked the door behind me.

I grabbed both sides of her face and kissed her gently. The second her nipples brushed my bare chest, I groaned. Weeks. I’d wanted this woman for weeks and not touched her. I was trying to be good, I was trying to do everything right, but damn it, there was only so much a man could take. I raked my teeth over her bottom lip. “Fuck, Hannah.” I grabbed behind her knees and scooped her up in my arms, carrying her up the stairs and straight to her room.

I kicked the door closed with my foot before laying her on the bed. Her chest rose in ragged swells, her eyes locked on me. I slid my hands along her sides to her breasts before I crawled on top of her. She felt so right half naked and underneath me. Her skin was warm, soft. Perfect. She deserved so much more than I could offer her, and I knew it. It was a war, a struggle I had with myself, but what do you do?

“I want you,” she whispered, trailing her fingers over my back.

“Fuck do I want you. Since I saw you,” I breathed, leaning down and kissing her breast. “Since I saw you, I just wanted this…” I slowly sucked her nipple into my mouth, and she tossed her head against the pillow, the softest moan breaking through her lips. “You.”

She grabbed my hand and shoved it between her thighs. “Touch me.”

My insides tightened when I slid my finger under the hem of her underwear, nervous, anxious. I groaned at how wet she was and buried my face in the crook of her neck. “Shit.”

She placed her hand over mine and pressed. I worked over her, reveling in all the quiet “ahhs” coming between deep breaths. The only way I could describe that sound was fucking beautiful. There was so much more than sexual want, it was me and her. It was the two of us needing to be closer, to feel each other. I kissed her hard, deep, like she was the air I needed to survive the next five minutes. She grabbed my wrist, forcing my hand over her harder while she whispered my name over and over, her other hand clawing at my arm.

“Oh, shit…” She panted, melting into the mattress. I glanced up. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was the faintest of smiles on her face.

She popped the button on my jeans and just when she went to pull the zipper, I heard a car door slam closed outside. My heart froze for a few beats before adrenaline fired over me.

“Crap,” she said, scrambling off the bed and ducking beneath the window while she grabbed her shirt. She quickly pulled it on and peeked out the window. “Crap!” She turned around, her face pale. “Okay, this is…” She dragged a hand over her face. “You don’t have a… and I’m twenty, but that’s my daddy and…”

I grabbed her, pulled her to me and kissed her. “I’ll call you.” Then I hightailed it out of her room and down the hall. I literally jumped over the railing to the first landing, then hurried down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door, catching the screen before it slammed shut. I went right over to the hose and turned the tap, rinsing my hands with the water.

“You’re here late, Noah,” John said when he stepped around the side of the house.

“Just finished up.”

“Some turpentine will take that right off,” he said, staring at the paint on my forearm.

“Yeah… I’ll be sure and use that.” I turned the tap and laid the hose down. “See you on Thursday?”

“Yep, good Lord willin’.” He smiled before stepping onto the porch and disappearing inside.

I felt like shit for messing around with his daughter in his house. That girl was starting to make me have morals…

“Fuck a duck!” Benji belched before bending over and picking up the bean bag. “You didn’t cut that there hole wide enough, Greyson.”

I glanced at the gigantic hole cut into the plywood of my makeshift cornhole board. “You dipshit, that’s plenty big! It’s half an inch wider than the Google article recommended.”

“Maybe it just needs decorations.” Benji hopped the fence into Old Man’s yard.

“What is he doing?” Trevor asked.

“Hell if I know.”

Benji stared down at the ground, turning in a circle. “Looking for some spray paint.”

“In his yard?”

“Have you seen this yard? There’s all kinds of shit in here.” He bent over and picked up a crumpled can. “This is a Bud Lite circa nineteen eighty-four. This”—he grabbed something else—“a rusted can of Folgers and then…” He kicked at a lump of grass and pulled up a filthy bra that looked like it would fit Dolly Parton. “Probably Old Lady Jenkins’ from some swinger party they had back in the nineties.”

“That’s sick,” I said with a snarled lip.

“Old Lady Jenkins was a slut.” Trevor laughed. “My grandad talked about her when he went senile, and I mean it was gross. Something about a magic eight ball and a liter of Sprite.”

“It wasn’t no Sprite!” We all jumped when Old Man slowly crept up from behind one of the chicken coops. “It was Meller Yeller. Old Lady Jenkins used to go by the name Creampuff down at the Foxtrot. That gentlemen’s club taught them girls how to do all sorts of tricks that’d make them donkey shows blush.”

“What the hell’s a donkey show?” Trevor grabbed the beanbag and threw it at the board.

“Don’t!” I shook my head. “Just don’t ask him. You don’t wanna know.”

“What’d you need? Spray paint?” Old Man asked.

“Yeah.”

“There’s some over there in my shed. Go on. Help yourself.”

Benji walked to the shed. When he opened the door, Marvin came hurdling out.

“What’cha doin’ in there, Marvin?” Old Man chuckled. “Come on and I’ll get you your Natty Lite.”

Trevor tossed another bean bag at the board, ringing the hole. “You can’t ever move away from here, that Old Man is golden.” He grinned. “Like the Hugh Hefner of Rockford.”

“Yeah.” I stared over at Old Man’s house. Half the siding hung off and the house was surrounded by shrubs with no leaves due to Marvin going on drunk goat binges. I thought: this cannot be my life forever. For the first time, I was actually, seriously motivated to get the fuck out of Rockford—and take Hannah with me.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. That same unknown number flashed on the screen when I pulled it out. “What the…” I lifted it to my ear. “Yeah?”

“Noah, this is Brice. Don’t hang up.”

“Look, man, this shit ain’t funny. I don’t know what you’re trying to get at, but just leave me alone.” Click.

Trevor threw the bag again. “What? Some dick trying to sell you a security system?

“No, people just trying to be assholes.”

He shrugged, and Benji jumped back over the fence, Marvin chasing after him. He held up two cans of red spray paint before shaking them and walking over to one of the corn hole boards. A haze of red dust flew in the air. When he stepped back, he nodded and pointed at a large, swirly A. “Yep, roll motherfuckin’ tide!”

By the time the sun went down, Benji had passed out in a lawn chair and Trevor had invited Old Man over for a beer, saying he wanted to pick the bastard’s brain. I hoped that was the beer talking, not that I wouldn’t admire Trevor for finally gaining some ambition, but Old Man… come on.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, grabbed a beer from the cooler, and sat down on the cinder block I used for a bottom step to the porch. Hannah hadn’t texted me. I knew they’d taken her mom to Birmingham to start a new treatment, but I sucked at shit like that. I typed out: Hey, you! Hope you had a good day… Delete. What kind of shit is that? Of course she didn’t have a good day. Resting my elbow on my knee, I held my head in my hand and stared at the screen before simply typing out: I’m here for you. Always. Remember that.

I lifted the beer to my lips and stared out at the thin line of red sky sinking below the hills in the distance. The cicadas were already kicking up, buzzing loudly in the tall pines. Old Man cackled at something. I was too consumed with my thoughts, worried about what I’d do when her mom passed, how I could help her. Because even though I’d never had someone I loved die, I’d lost the love of both my parents. Dead or alive, I knew the hardest part of losing someone was letting them go.