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“You’re not really dressed for that.” I cross my arms. “Want to come back in a long-sleeved T-shirt?”
“Nah, I’m okay.” He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a set of glistening abs.
“Where do you want me?”
“In a long-sleeved T-shirt.”
“How else will you appreciate the view I’m giving you?”
“You can’t be serious…”
“Of course, I am.”
I blush, and he grabs my hands, pulling me out of the pile.
“I saw some shirts in your mom’s merch shop,” he says.
“You want to steal that, too?”
“He’s not stealing anything, Dahlia!” My mom shouts from a few rows over. “And he’s clearly here to spend some time with you, so be nice to him.”
“Exactly.” He tucks a stray curl behind my ear. “Be nice to me.”
“I’m not looking for a boyfriend.” The words fall from my lips. “And I don’t care that you’re attractive. This is hard work, and you need to focus and never touch me again.”
As if he doesn’t believe a word I’ve just said, he tugs at a different curl of mine, and before I can reiterate my empty threat, he presses his mouth against mine.
Within seconds, I’m surrendering to his kiss, setting aside all the sarcastic weapons I’d planned to fire.
His tongue slips past my lips, signaling that this won’t be a chaste moment.
This won’t be a light kiss…
He slips an arm around my waist, pulling me taut against his bare chest. Staring deep into my eyes, he teases my bottom lip with a bite before forcing my tongue to tango with his.
Dominant and primal, he whispers, “You really don’t want me to touch you again?”
His question is rhetorical, only asked to pause the sweet assault of my mouth.
When I’m nearly breathless and when my knees are seconds away from buckling, he pulls away.
Smirking, he stares at me while I lean against a pole and catch my breath.
I don’t even bother trying to act like I didn’t enjoy it. Like I don’t want more.
He smiles as if he knows, but doesn’t mention it.
“Show me how to pull the weeds,” he says instead.
I demonstrate it for him, and he catches on with ease. By evening, we’ve finished half an acre, far more than I expected.
I thank him and tell him that I’ll see him at school on Monday, but I see him a lot sooner.
He returns on Saturday morning, dressed to help.
He comes back every day after that, too…
THREE
