A Little Bit Dirty

“I’m actually getting ready to see her now,” I tell him and realize I’m only a couple blocks away now. It’s been years since I’ve talked to her. Years. How the hell did that happen?

“Really?” The surprise is evident and unfortunately hopeful.

“Not that she’s wanting to see me …” Clearing my throat I add, “Her car broke down.”

“You do it?” Robert says, his slight Southern drawl emphasized by the joke and then he adds, “You empty out her gas tank or something?” His quip gets a genuine smile from me and the huff of a laugh.

It’s the only relief I’ve felt since the phone call this morning.

And it’s gone in an instant.

Sitting at the stop sign, I glance to my left and there they are. Renee’s taller and Bri’s standing right beside her, talking with her hands waving as she always does.

Renee’s in her pajamas still it looks like. She couldn’t care less what this town has to say about decorum and I’ve always liked that about her. She’s a passing thought, though. All I can focus on is Bri. It’s only the ticking of the blinker and Robert’s question that brings me back. “You still there?” he asks.

“I’ve got to go.”

“Call me if you need me,” he says and I hesitate, not knowing what to say. I don’t need him. There isn’t a thing he can do for me.

I need her.

My throat goes tight as I turn left into the central strip down Main Street. I’ve done this a thousand times in my life, but this feeling—this prickling, numbing sensation—is something entirely new. It’s like dread and hope mixed in a drink, all washed down with regret.

I can barely look at Brianna, yet I can’t take my eyes off of her just the same.

Everything about her is familiar.

I know I’ve unzipped that dress from her before. Kissed the crook of her neck as the cashmere fell down her shoulder. Fuck, my cock is already hard remembering her. Remembering us and the things we’ve done together. The things I’ve done to her.

As I park parallel to the sidewalk with her car behind me, I peek into the rearview mirror and her green eyes find mine. There’s a spark and a jolt, but they’re quickly followed by a hollowness as she rips her eyes away, turning her body toward Renee and crossing her arms.

I don’t miss the concern on her face, or the eagerness that radiates from her to leave. Hell, if we were only kids, I bet she’d take off. She’d leave her no-longer-dependable sedan and haul ass around the corner so she wouldn’t have to see me.

I give myself a moment, leaving the truck idling before climbing out and letting the door slam shut.

My footsteps are heavy, like they’re trying to keep me from moving to her at all.

“Hey,” she answers so hesitantly, I barely hear her.

“So, it won’t start,” Renee states with a wave of her arm. With sleep still in her eyes and her strawberry blond hair in a messy ponytail, I’m pretty sure she would rather be in bed.

“You just roll out of bed for this?” I ask her comically. Wanting to ease the tension. I don’t feel a hint of it from Renee, but Bri’s acting as though she’d hide behind her friend if she could.

Renee doesn’t answer other than a laugh.

“So it won’t start?” I ask Bri and she peers back at me.

The cords of her neck tighten as she swallows and the world slows down. There’s silence between us as she struggles to answer such a simple question. We’re feet apart; me in the parking space, her on the sidewalk. My hands in my pockets and her arms crossed over her chest. The last time we were this close, though, I broke her heart, so I understand why she’s guarding it now.

I’m sorry, is right there on the tip of my tongue.

“Yeah, it just died,” Renee answers and my gaze moves to her, my brow raising. I can only nod as I look back at her, avoiding Bri’s stare.

My thumb runs along my stubbled jaw as I glance down at the asphalt, then back up to Bri and tell her, “Look, if you want to—”

“It’s just the car, Asher. Please, just … if I could have called someone else, I would have. I’m sorry.”

Her words are hushed as she readjusts her stance a dozen times, her insecurities rolling off of her. I don’t miss her fidgeting with her necklace. Old habits die hard.