Then again, it wasn’t all about sex. Her eyes sparkle when she laughs and hold something special when she talks about Gee. As we stand here eating ice cream, I realize what I’ve missed most about Britton is her. I miss hanging out with her, doing casual things, and laughing. These are things I haven’t done in years.
“Fine. No mom questions.” I wink at her as I take another lick of my ice cream, letting the coolness linger on my tongue. Britton’s sapphire eyes heat at the motion, turning a brighter blue, and I stroke my tongue over the cold scoop once more just to witness those eyes sizzling.
“I have a question.” Her eyes drop, and she licks at her ice cream before asking, “What about you? Married? Children?”
I scoff. “Not married. No children.”
Britton takes a long lick of her ice cream, circling the scoop with the flat of her tongue, and my dick tightens, imagination running wild with thoughts of her tongue stroking over me like that cold treat.
“Against marriage, huh? And children?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head to rid the thoughts of that mouth, those lips now sucking up some mint chocolate chip. “Just hasn’t happened. Either one.” Strangely, I hadn’t had the desire to marry Zoey. We’ve been together for years. First, as someone who reached out to me and became my agent, and then as lovers living together, but I can confidently say marriage never crossed my mind with her. There was a lack of commitment always hovering in our relationship, and the proof came when I was injured and Zoey moved on. As for children, Zoey was firmly against having any, and I’d agreed for the same reason as that lingering doubt of loyalty. I couldn’t see her being a mother even if I did want children.
I don’t say these things to Britton, though. I don’t want to talk about Zoey any more than she mentions her late husband.
“Gavin, I need to tell you—”
“You have something here,” I interrupt her, swirling my finger around her mouth as a drip of ice cream sticks in the corner of her lips. She quickly swipes at her lip with the tip of her tongue, tipping her cone in the other hand and a drip of ice cream dribbles down her fingers.
“Now you have something here.” My fingers circle her wrist, lifting the hand holding her cone, and I lick at the melty mint chocolate coating her knuckles. Britton’s eyes widen at the bold move, and I realize we’re standing closer to one another than a moment ago.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Her voice drops, suggesting the opposite in her husky tone.
“I licked it. Does that mean it’s mine?” I have no idea where the flirting tone comes from, but I mean every word.
If I lick her in other places, will she be mine again?
“Gavin.” My name whispered from her reminds me of a hundred times she’d say my name just like that, exhaling it as she rocked over me, desperate between kisses when she needed to catch her breath. I step closer to her, still holding her wrist.
“You have something here, too.” With a quick snap, pressure on her wrist forces the cone toward her face, coating her lips in mint chocolate chip.
“Gavin,” she shrieks in shock at the cool sensation on her mouth, but I lower to claim there as well. When my lips hit hers, she stills, freezing under me while I suck her lips between mine and swipe the tip of my tongue over the curl of them to clean them. Jesus, she tastes like summer, memories, and mint. I pull back no more than a centimeter before returning to her lips, eagerly taking more of her.
I want that summer back. I want those memories restored. I want so much more than I can define from her.
Still not responding to me, I try again. “Kiss me, Brit.”
Her mouth opens, and my tongue rushes forward, combining the heat of mine with the coolness of hers. Instantly, I’m hungry for her in ways I haven’t hungered in years. Tipping her head to the side, I take her mouth deeper, my tongue demanding. Aware that I still hold an ice cream cone in one hand, I use the other to dip my fingers into her hair, holding her head, keeping her against me.
Too soon, I feel her shutting down, pulling back from me, and I chase her, not wanting to let her go. Not yet.
Just one more kiss, Brit. I’d said that to her on the morning I came to say goodbye as a teen. We promised we wouldn’t make a production of things. We wouldn’t drag out our farewell, but I wasn’t ready. She was only sixteen and had years of high school to finish. I was off to college. It wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t ideal. We agreed to let the summer be what it was. And it was over too fast.
A firm hand nudges my shoulder, and once I lean away, I feel a cold sensation against my bicep.
“Gavin, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes are trained on the large swipe of mint ice cream against the sleeve of my dress shirt, but when those blue orbs lift to mine, it’s more than the shirt she’s apologizing for.
Tears welled in her eyes. Shit.
“Because you have a man?” I question, worried I’ve forced her to do something she doesn’t want to do. Britton would be loyal, unlike Zoey. She’d never cheat on someone, and I’m not asking her to. I’ve fucked this up.
“I need to go,” she mutters and brushes past me. As her feet carry her away, she dumps the remainder of her cone in a garbage bin. I rush after her, afraid if she walks away, I’ll never see her again. I’ll lose her as I did all those years ago.
“Don’t go. I’m sorry. I got carried away.” My voice pleads, but I’m not truly sorry. I kissed her, and I want more. However, her pace increases until she begins to run away from me, and I falter to a halt. I can’t chase her down the sidewalk, but my heart tells me otherwise. I have this strange sense Britton holds the key to the thing I’ve felt missing in my life. The thing which seems just out of my grasp, waiting for me to catch it. Like that ball coming down the first baseline, ready to change my life forever.
Only this time, nothing inside me will break.
Take 10
Scene: The Lake Boat Ride
[Gavin]
My headspace is out of whack the next day when I meet the guys at Tom’s house. I’m tempted to continue down the road to Britton’s, but I hold back and turn into my brother-in-law’s driveway instead. He has a dock on his property, as many homes here do, where his boat sits. It’s a pontoon made for comfort and partying, and I’m looking forward to a lazy day on the water, reminiscent of days long ago.
Tom Carter is tall, lean, and lanky, still sporting dark hair with speckles of gray at his temple as he turned forty last year. He was always the jokester among us, and despite being older than his brother Jess by four years, they are tight as friends and shared business owners.
Jess is already present.
Leon Ramirez arrives on a motorcycle. His Hispanic descent and dark features give him a hard-edged appearance. His face is cut sharp, and he’d make a decent male model. Thank goodness Zoey isn’t here, or she’d try to recruit him. I didn’t officially meet him the other night as I disappeared from the party to find Britton in the road, but I remember Tricia’s face when she pointed him out. For her sake, I hope he’s a better man than her previous husband.
Ethan shows up with Jacob Vincent, someone I only met during the film showing. He’s Pam Carter’s man and looks like a scrapper. Only an inch or two shorter than me, he’s a cross between a college professor and a wannabe fighter. It’s like Clark Kent. If he took off the glasses, a hidden superhero exists underneath the spectacles. It’s obvious his nose was broken once, and he has a scar on his forehead. Jacob’s vibe is more pissed off at the world while Leon’s got the look of a man who did time. However, both men are cordial enough.