A lopsided grin appeared on his face. “Whatever happens with this space, it’ll probably be a beautiful thing to behold,” he said, repeating my words from the other night. “Don’t you think?”

“I certainly agree. The person who said that sounds super smart and amazing.”

He nodded, the heat in his eyes taking my breath away. “And she’s definitely a distraction.”

10. Dean

Ten

Dean

Half an hour later, Tabitha returned to the lot, gripping a large trash bag and a pair of heavy gardening gloves. Her dark red hair was in a messy bun. Her sunglasses were giant and hot pink. She wore a massive shirt over running shorts with Bruce Springsteen’s face on it.

“I totally stole this from Aunt Linda’s closet,” she said, pointing at the center of her chest. “What do you think? Is it fashion or what?”

I held my tongue until I could trust the persistent thoughts I’d been having about Tabitha. Fantasies. Late-night ones. I was strict with my training and strict with anything decadent. That applied to sex too. The casual encounters I’d had left me unsatisfied past the basics of pleasure and relief. I had a sneaking suspicion what was missing for me beforehand was connection or conversation. Friendship. Things that I always struggled with.

I never explored what I wanted from sex. Never allowed a deeper discovery because I was too worried I’d never experience it in real life. I’d already lost so much. Could I really stifle any more of my body’s desires?

But I’d been helpless to resist Tabitha’s charms as a teenager. And as a man, sharing a wall with her had obliterated the mental lock on that door. Last night I’d finally given in, stroking myself to a reel of images I couldn’t seem to stop: this gorgeous redhead fisting my shirt in her hand and dragging me inside her house. Demanding me on my knees. Hiking up her skirt so I could bury my face between her luscious, tattooed thighs. I’d serve her eagerly—and often—if only she asked. I’d come with a strangled groan and had to bite my pillow so she wouldn’t hear.

“What I’m getting is that you’re utterly stunned by my beauty in this Springsteen shirt my aunt definitely got at a concert in Jersey in 1995?” she said.

I cleared my throat. Cleared my head. “How did you guess?”

She smirked. “Sorry it took me a second to get back out here. I checked my inbox and had a few messages from this retro hotel in Austin that’s entirely solar powered. I pitched them an idea to do a video on their sustainable design and the future of eco-conscious tourism.” She tapped the side of her temple before yanking on her gloves. “I’ve got a few story sparks about it. Anyway, where should we go first?”