Page 14 of Remember Me?

He groans, thinking of the last picture that was sent to him. He could only guess what part of her body she sent, clad in red lace, just close enough to keep his imagination flowing. It could have been a close-up of her glorious ass being held together by the tiny scrap of fabric, or perhaps the hills of her hips, or the juncture of her thighs, milky white.

A firm hand squeezes his leg, stopping the anxious jumping of his leg, sucking him right back to the present. He frowns hard, bringing his eyebrows together. He would have much rather been lost in his fantasy than sitting here, pretending. Turning towards the source of that hand.

Jen, why is she always here? Always near him, trying to touch him.

Has she always been this needy? He hasn't answered a single call or message from her in over a year, and now she sits here, next to him, jabbering away about God knows what.

“Why are you here?” He asks gruffly. Letting his bad mood simmer, the growing unease and frustration making him a terrible host. His mother would be ashamed. Thankfully, she is preoccupied. He glances over to his mama at the head of the table. She is telling a story, regaling Melody and Dickhead Duke with some childhood memory or something.

What kind of name is Duke anyway? It’s totally a dog name. He thinks to himself. Good boy, Duke. Let's go potty, Duke. Fetch, Duke! See, total dog name.

“Your mom wanted to surprise you.” Jen smiles what I interpret to be a come hither smile. A, ‘you could screw me right on top of this table in front of your family,’ smile. “Surprise.” She purrs, leaning in, hand still on his leg, dangerously close to his junk.

Things like this happen a lot. Women see a fit guy; they want touch, and usually, he lets them. But today, Nash had no idea what to do. He freezes. He chanced a glance in Melody’s direction. A fiery look settled on her face as she caught some of his and Jen’s exchange. She is seething, and she looks majestic, like a goddess of war, ready to claw out the eyes of her enemy. Beautiful, that is, until Nash realizes that that rage was aimed at him, and the eyes she was going to claw out were on his face.

Melody

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Why was I even looking at him? You need to stop right now, Melody. This is getting absurd.But I swear if he doesn't remove that hand, I am going to stab someone.

Melody couldn’t reconcile the man before her, Nash, with her Graham Cracker. Whereas Nash was all hard lines, chiseled abs, and a strong jaw. Graham was soft, youthful, and lanky. Could he have really changed that much in five or six years? Even though Melody had stayed in touch with Marisol throughout the years, when she came down, it was always about Marisol. She hadn't actually seen Graham since he was fourteen, maybe fifteen. Or was it seventeen? Fuck I can’t remember… He was always off attending some athletic camp or another or traveling for competitions. She didn't even know what sport he played. Man, she was a terrible person. How could she have missed it? Was she that self-absorbed that he grew up, and she didn’t even realize it?

Dinner goes by in a blur of nods, fake smiles, and inconspicuous peeks at Nash, no, Graham. By the time she snaps back into the present, everyone is getting up and walking towards the door. Nash, he will just have to be Nash to her from this point on, that is, if she doesn’t want to implode. Nash, is throwing worried glances her way, while Duke keeps acting like nothing is wrong, rubbing her back or gently stroking her leg under the table. Apparently, sometime during dinner, everyone decided on a nightcap at a local bar.

Good, because she needed out of this house like she needed air in her lungs.

Chapter Five

Melody

Melody stepped out onto the sidewalk and made her way towards downtown. Living close to all the magic was one of the perks of residing in their neighborhood. They could walk anywhere they wanted. The sky was dark and humid; the scent of rain hanging in the air like a promise.

After that dinner, lord knew she needed a breather. Eyes shut, face towards the breeze, her dress flowing behind her, she inhales. Continuing forward, ahead of everyone, she can hear the hum of conversion behind her, but she wants to escape. Escape everyone. Duke trying to mend the fences, Nash or Graham or whoever he is, with his heavy stare and beautiful face. Marisol’s incessant inquiry into her mental state.

She is so over today, and she needs a drink. Gosh, she sounded like a drunk. She doesn’t normally drink so much, but this week was a lot. What started off as a promising day full of fun has really taken a dark turn.

Duke sidles up beside her, matching her pace easily. He stops her, holding her arm while everyone passes them. Nash slowly brushes up against her back, a comforting hand to her lower back, sweeping up into a caress up her body and over her shoulder. She looks back at him as goosebumps break out in his wake. His jaw clenched tight, full of emotion, followed by a quick quirk of his lip into a sexy grin and wink. Then, like a phantom, he disappears, briskly walking past as if the exchange didn't even happen, leaving only the tingle of his touch behind. Jen follows behind him like a puppy.

Marisol is the last to make her way past. She eyes Duke and I wearily. “Need me to stick around?” She asks, ready to go to battle for her.

“I’m okay, Marisol. Thanks, girl. We will be right behind you.” She gives Melody a look of solidarity. Turning to Duke, she flips him off, then walks away, swaying her hips. A smile peeks through Melody’s turmoil.

“Jesus Christ.” Duke shakes his head in irritation. “Look, Melly, I don't want to fight right now. Can we just, I don't know, be? Let's take it one day at a time, and if you forgive me, great, and if not, then…”

He pauses, trying to find the words, a storm brewing just below the surface. Melody had never seen him so full of emotion.

“Just, let's not make a decision based on raw emotion, okay?” He grabs her hands. Indecision warring within her. It all seems so rational. Emotionally based decisions are unpredictable. She is a grown-up, after all, she should be able to make a rational decision.

Melody crosses her arm under her chest, creating a physical barrier between them. “No promises.”

Then she turns and follows Marisol. She was still upset. Hurt, but mostly conflicted, and right now, Duke and his shit are not her top priority. She and Nash had really grown close these past few days, intimate, really. Their connection was vastly different and running its course faster than any other relationship she had ever been in. And that's because they were not even in a relationship. They were just having fun, exchanging flirty messages.

Although, if she was being honest, she wasn't having very much fun right now. Rounding the corner, she could already hear the bass thumping, vibrations buzzing up her body, warming her soul.

Nash

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