And although the house always smelled of disinfectant, its cleanliness was something I made sure of. I needed to make sure everything was clean for my mom; with her compromised immune system from the cancer treatments, I didn’t want to risk her getting sick.
“Mom?” I called out and heard her rustling around in her room. I made my way down the hallway, the carpet not the kind you’d walk on without at least socks on. The brown shag hadn’t been replaced since the house was built, and who the fuck knew what was living in it. No amount of steam cleaning could get something like this fully disinfected.
I found my mom rummaging through her closet. The colorful headscarf she wore was hot pink today. It had little white polka dots on it. Although she was officially done with her treatments and her hair was starting to come back in, she still preferred to wear it for her own comfort.
“What are you doing?”
She started tossing out clothing but looked over her shoulder at me and smiled. I was glad to see each day she was looking and feeling better.
“Oh hey, sweetheart,” she said in a soft voice and went back to doing whatever she was doing in the closet. “I’m getting rid of a bunch of crap I haven’t worn in years. I figure somebody else can get use out of them.”
“Do you think you really need to do that right now?” I knew better than to even ask that question, because she would do whatever she wanted. In the end, she was headstrong, very independent, and did what she wanted to.
She stopped and looked over her shoulder again at me, her lips pursed. She was telling me without actually saying anything that I needed to mind my business.
I held my hands up in surrender and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at it, seeing Harlow’s name pop up from an incoming text. Instantly, my body reacted. My heart started beating a little bit harder and faster, and I felt my palms start to get a sweaty. I was nervous, and all over a text.
I felt my mother staring at me and glanced up at her quickly, seeing in her expression that she knew something was up.
“Making new friends?”
I cleared my throat and shook my head but then nodded and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just a girl from school. She was having car trouble today, and I gave her a ride home.” I swore if my mother’s face could’ve lit up any more, the room would’ve been practically glowing.
“A girl?” Her grin was wide. “Is she nice?” She fully faced me and sat on the floor, I guess expecting there to be some long, intricate story regarding Harlow and me.
The truth was, there wasn’t some detailed story about us. Yes, I felt an intense kind of pull toward her, this inexplicable, confusing desire that made no sense because we hardly knew each other, but a story on how it all came to be? I had nothing to tell my mom.
Instead of saying all that, or hell, saying anything, I shrugged. I hadn’t read what Harlow texted me yet, and I didn’t want to while my mother was sitting there looking at me, this little smile on her face as if she thought I just met the woman I’d spend the rest my life with.
“Do you need any help?” I asked, changing the subject.
My mother’s expression told me she wanted to ask more questions, but I got my stubbornness from her, so after a second, she exhaled and looked back at her closet.
“No, I’m good. Go eat and rest before work.” When she looked back at me, I could see on her face she wanted to say more, not about the texts or girls, but about life stuff in general.
She hated that I worked. She didn’t want me to have to be the one to provide for her. I lost count of how many times she’d said this. But she’d worked her ass off for so long so we had a roof over our heads, food in our stomachs, and clothes on our backs. I might not have had a lot of superficially things while growing up, but the one thing she always made sure I had an abundance of was the knowledge of how much she loved me.
So when she got sick, there was no hesitation in me stepping up to be the one to take care of her. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I headed into the kitchen and grabbed some items to make a sandwich. My phone felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket, the thought of that text from Harlow heavy on my mind. Now that I was alone, I pulled the phone out and opened up the messages.
Harlow: Thx again for the ride. I really appreciate it. Maybe I can return the favor soon. :)
Her text was innocent enough, but hell, it made me pretty fucking happy, like I’d just been told the best news. And then there was the fact that she’d ended it with returning the favor. Of course, my mind went right in the fucking gutter as I thought of all the ways she could repay that favor.
Her body pressed against mine.
My lips on hers.
The sound of her breathing hard because of what we were doing.
I shook my head to clear it, but it did no good. I didn’t need the complication of a girl right now. I had to focus on school and work, making sure the bills were paid and I stayed out of trouble.
I opened up the messages again and typed out a quick reply. It was friendly enough but wasn’t open ended that anything could be misinterpreted.
And I didn’t like that. I didn’t like how it made me feel as I shoved my phone back in my pocket and tried to push Harlow out of my head.
But shit, it was hard and impossible. And the longer I tried not to think of her, the more it had the opposite effect.
Her alabaster skin.
The tumble of her auburn waves around her shoulders.
Her big blue eyes.
Fuck.
My cock was hard, digging against my zipper. This was bullshit, the fact that I couldn’t even keep my arousal down. I don’t know why Harlow got under my skin so badly, but it had been immediate. I’d been interested, curious about her from the start, but after actually speaking to her, seeing her personality come out... yeah, that curiosity turned to immediate need.
Possessive, hard, sexual need.
I cleared my throat and braced my hands on the counter, focusing on the items I pulled out of the fridge, hoping for a distraction. Of course, nothing helped.
It was like Harlow was a drug... my own specialty drug, and there was no chance of me ever breaking that addiction.
But I had to, because I didn’t need a complication in my life that was of the female variety.
Chapter Six
Harlow
“You didn’t have to come, sweetheart.”
I glanced at my father. We were in his car and heading toward the mechanic shop in town. They’d towed my Civic from school to their shop to get fixed. Of course, the part may not be in stock, which meant until they figured out when it would come in and then factored in labor time, I’d be riding that big, old yellow school bus. Not the end of the world, but what senior wanted to give up her mode of transportation to ride in a crammed bus with people screaming in your ear?
“It’s okay. I don’t mind coming,” I replied and looked out the passenger side window. We were nearing Mickey’s Auto, the main mechanic shop in town. My dad turned on the stereo, his love of the oldies station something I teased him about. As a song from the ‘50s came on and I heard him starting to sing, I focused on the scenery passing us by.
I couldn’t stop thinking about Aiden and our short interaction in his car earlier today. I contemplated what it all might mean. I’d never been so curious about another person before, never been so interested. But with Aiden, I felt like there was more to his story, this deeper side of him. He’d obviously been to more than one high school, seeing as he was a senior and a new transplant at Silver Creek. But I wanted to know the why of it all, not because I was nosy, but because I wanted to understand more about him. And I had a feeling he could use a friend. I assumed he preferred being a loner, but everyone liked having someone they could talk to, didn’t they?