Slamming Demon (Pounding Hearts 2)

The weekend with Brett went by too fast. After all the amazing sex, we ended up spending the rest of the time hanging out, goofing off, and just enjoying being with each other. In some ways it was like we were playing house like a couple of silly kids. We tried to cook for each other, cleaned up, and imagined what it would be like to have our own place. We made up rules like no pants after six and whoever does the dishes does them topless. So we both ended up spending most of the time hanging out like we were a couple of nudists. And the shower, oh my god, showering with him was the fucking bomb.

Time flies though, especially when you’re fucking a lot.

Before we knew it, it was Sunday afternoon and Brett’s parents were on their way home. Regretfully, it was time for me to return to my house. We drug our feet going about it. I only brought one little overnight bag with me but it took me over an hour to pack it. And I swear, every pair of panties I brought with me had somehow disappeared. We looked but neither one of us could find them. Though I had my suspicions about where they ended up.

Then after I was done packing and there was nothing else to do, we kept finding reasons and excuses for not leaving yet, but eventually, somehow, we ended up in his mom’s Volvo.

Just minutes after climbing into the car we were pulling into the empty driveway of my house. All the lights were off and it didn’t look like either of my parents were home. Still, I dreaded leaving Brett and returning to the mess I ran away from. What awaited me? Had my parents made up? Or were they still going to divorce? If they split up, who was I going to live with?

Brett squeezed my hand, he held it the entire the time he drove and even then it didn’t look as if

he meant to let go. We sat there in silence, both with so much to say but neither of us brave enough to speak the words out loud.

There was so much more going on. Was it temporary, the love between us? Now that we had taken that step, what did we mean to do about it? Graduation wasn’t far off, and after that then what?

“Thank you,” I finally said and leaned close to him, giving him a sweet kiss against his cheek.

Brett turned his face, quite on purpose, and I ended up kissing his lips. I pulled away just before we started shoving our tongues down each other’s throats. I would have hated for one of my parents to see and give me grief about putting on a show for the neighbors.

“I don’t want you to go,” Brett sighed and my heart ached because I felt the same way.

“I don’t want to either,” I admitted and stroked his cheek. “But I have to.”

He lifted the hand he was still holding to his lips and brushed his mouth across my knuckles. “I know.”

I noticed movement out of the corner of my eye and looked to my house. The curtains in the front windows were moving, someone must have disturbed them.

I sighed sadly. One of my parents was in there and it was time I found out just which one it was.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” I forced a tight smile. Time with Brett had gone by so fast but at that moment tomorrow felt too far off.

He nodded his head, but his grip tightened around my fingers as I tried to pull my hand free. “Mandy,” he said too seriously.

I stiffened with apprehension. “Yes?”

He hesitated and I could just sense there was something weighing heavily on his mind. Finally, he shook his head and then leaned towards me, pressing his forehead against my forehead. “I love you.”

I smiled immediately and told him, “I love you, too.” Because I did. If there was one thing I was certain of it was him.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

I nodded and he kissed me. He kissed me as if we were saying goodbye for a long time and wouldn’t see each other at school the next morning. And as much as I loved him, and wanted to kiss him, I was hyper-aware that one of my parents was probably watching it all.

I broke the kiss, breathless and extracted my fingers from his grip. “I’ll text you after dinner.”

Brett nodded and then pushed open his door, hopping out of the car. He came around the front then opened my door for me. After one last hug, I waved goodbye and then walked up to my front door. He remained, watching until I stepped inside. Once I walked into my house, he hopped back in his mom’s Volvo and pulled out.

Shutting the front door behind me, I realized the inside of my house was completely dark. “Mom? Dad?” I called out and flipped the light on.

“In here,” my dad’s voice called out from the living room but the words sounded slurred.

With great trepidation, I dropped my overnight bag by the door and walked towards the living room. The closer I got, the more I could smell the liquor. The place smelled like a brewery and I knew I would find my father drunk, even though the man usually only drank on New Year’s Eve.

“Daddy?” I called out, stepping into the living room. It was dusk and all the curtains were drawn. The lamps were all switched off but the TV was on and its eerie blue glow was enough to see by. I found my father slumped on the couch, gripping a bottle that was only half full.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked. I knew that one question would answer all the others.

“Gone,” my father answered, and took a swig from the bottle. He was still wearing the clothes he had on when I left. He must have been drinking the entire time I was gone. I instantly felt guilty for leaving him.