It was two more weeks with Preston before I reached my breaking point.
As I sat in my sweltering car, parked in the Lowe driveway, grief swept through me. I mourned the death of our relationship. I missed the guy I’d loved, but knew he was never coming back.
My grandmother passed away last week, but Preston didn’t come to the funeral. He’d had to work, he said—which was fine. But he didn’t come to the visitation either. He didn’t stand beside me or hold my hand as I’d cried while staring at the casket. He’d left me on my own to field the incessant question from my family, “Where’s Preston?”
“Sick,” I’d lied.
I found out from our mutual friends he’d forgotten and gone to the movies. That made it obvious how little I mattered now.
A frustrated sigh slipped out as I reached across the seat and snatched up my backpack. I’d brought a swimsuit and towel over, knowing I was going to need to work up to the moment I told him it was over between us. I’d never broken up with someone before.
I didn’t ring the bell. I climbed the front steps and pushed open the unlocked door, comfortable walking into the Lowe house unannounced. Would this be the last time I did it?
The wind sucked the door shut behind me with a loud slam, and heavy footsteps pounded on the hardwood floor until his dad stepped into view.
“Cassidy?” The momentary confusion on his handsome face was replaced with an easy smile.
I froze in place. “Hey, Dr. Lowe. Didn’t he tell you I was coming over?”
He shook his head. “I think he’s in the pool already.”
“Oh. Okay.” I headed toward the door to the basement, but only made it a few paces before the toe of my sandal caught the edge of the entryway rug. “Ah!”
Like an idiot, I stumbled forward on shaky legs, fighting not to go down, and instead tumbled right into Dr. Lowe.
He grunted softly as I collided with his hard chest. I knocked him back a half-step, but then his steady hands locked onto my waist. Embarrassment flickered through me, but as I lifted my flustered gaze to his, the emotion burned away.
Oh.
The sensation of his hands on my body made my breath catch in my throat.
There’d been concern for my near-fall in his expression seconds ago, but it evaporated as his hold on me tensed. Something gathered in his brown eyes—something that looked a hell of a lot like heat. The muscles running along his jaw tightened and flexed.
I had to be imagining it. There was no way he was looking at me like he was thinking about sliding his hands around my back and drawing me closer. My body hummed from the contact, and the buzz grew louder and more frantic the longer we remained motionless.
His embrace put me far more off-balance than tripping on the rug had.
We were standing too close, but he was magnetic. The pull toward him was a force I struggled to overcome, even when I knew I had to.
His voice came out strange and uneven. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I breathed. Why hadn’t I noticed how deep and beautiful his eyes were before?
Abruptly, he released me, his hands coming off my waist as if I were a hot stove. Shame flashed through his expression and then it went blank. “Sorry.”
He turned and strode quickly away, leaving me to stare at his broad back as he went. What was he sorry for? Keeping me from falling? Touching me? Or the way he’d stared at me like Preston used to, with a gaze that teemed with desire?
I’d had impure thoughts about Dr. Lowe before. I couldn’t help myself and tried not to feel guilty about them. They were just harmless fantasies, I’d justified, and were kept safe in my own mind. Any shame over thinking about my boyfriend’s dad was about to be moot anyway.
Outside, the stone patio led to the shady back yard and the bright blue pool was surrounded by a decorative black, wrought-iron fence. The pool wasn’t enormous, but nicely proportional to the sprawling home. It was large enough for either of the Lowe men to swim laps if they wanted, which Preston appeared to be doing now.
He must have sensed my arrival because he stopped mid-stroke, pushed his wet, dark hair back out of his eyes, and flicked the water away with his fingers. He stared at me and raised an eyebrow.
“You’re not in your suit?” No greeting. Just his annoyed tone.
“I’ve got it in my bag.” I glanced over at the empty lounger at the side of the pool. Maybe I should tell him I didn’t want to swim, sit down there, and find my way into the difficult conversation we needed to have.
He swam to the edge and propped his arms on the stone ledge. “Get your sexy ass changed, then. It’s hot as balls out here, and the water’s great.”