Feels like Home (Lake Fisher 2)

“It was worth it,” he retorts, now that he can catch his breath. “We didn’t tell Little Robbie to call out as we all left. That was genius on his part. Freaking genius, I tell you! I’m pretty sure that Eli gave him an extra quarter the next day when we paid him.”

“I hate you,” I say again. “I can’t believe you of all people tricked me! You were supposed to be my best friend!”

“I’m still your best friend, Bess,” he says, suddenly sobering. “I always will be, no matter what happens.”

“Did Lynda know?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and letting out a huff.

“Not until years later. We took the kids to a haunted house at a local church one night, and I spilled my guts.” He finally sobers completely. “She didn’t talk to me for the rest of the night.”

“Did anybody ever tell Katie?”

He shrugs and reaches for his drink. He can’t reach it, so I pass it to him, and he takes a slow sip. “No idea. I’m not going to tell her. That’s on Jake.”

I start to shake my foot. “I can’t believe Eli never confessed.”

“I’m sure if it had ever come up he would have told you.”

“So you guys went all the way out there, set up the tape recorder, and arranged for Little Robbie to knock on the door, all without us knowing.”

“Yep.” He sits back with a satisfied grin on his face. “Jake turned on the tape player when he got the candle from the cabinet.”

“I still hate you,” I toss at him with a scowl.

He grins even bigger. “You love my ass and you know it.”

I stare at him for a moment too long, I know. “I do love you. You asshole.”

He sits quietly, only letting out little snarfles of laugher every once in a while like he’s still in the memory. “So, Eli kissed you that night, huh?” he finally asks.

“How did you know that? Did Eli tell you?”

“You told Lynda. She told me.”

I shake my head and throw up my hands. “Is nothing sacred?”

“Then I had to go and have a talk with him. I do remember that.”

“Wait…what?” I sit up straighter.

He shrugs like it’s nothing, but it’s not nothing. “I had to find out what his intentions were. That’s all.”

“How did that conversation go?”

He scratches his head. “I vaguely remember charging up to him like a bull, bumping into him from behind, and asking point blank what his intentions were.”

“What did he say?”

He grins. “He said his intentions were to kiss you every chance he got for the rest of his life.”

I smile despite myself. “He said that to me many times in the past.” It used to be one of my favorite lines of his. But it was just a line. Eventually, he stopped wanting to kiss me at all.

Aaron narrows his eyes at me. “How long has it been since he kissed you, Bess?”

I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “A really, really long time.”

“Whose fault is that?”

I shrug. “Mine, I guess. Probably.”