Page 54 of About That Night

She can’t be serious. “Uh, yes. You were screaming. Like a banshee.”

She hits my arm. “I was not!”

I look to the attendant for confirmation. He’s around my age. “Was she yelling or not? Back me up here, man.”

“I’m not getting involved,” he says with a smile, waving his hands. “I stay out of couples’ disagreements.”

“Oh, we’re not a couple,” Chastity says hastily.

Which makes me want to give a hearty sigh.

I’ve never been a guy who craves a relationship.

But I might be craving, just a little.

Like I’m craving her lips not at all that much.

And I barely think about her body.

Or how she looks when she has an orgasm.

Chastity shoots me a look of triumph.

Who the hell am I kidding?

I’m craving.

I’m fucking craving. Thirsting for her.

And not just for her body.

I want all of her. Body, heart, and soul.

Which makes this, all of this, the stupidest stunt on the long list of Hank Williams Young’s idiotic accomplishments.

I’ve gone and fallen for a woman who wants to be just friends.

Chastity only takes a minute to gather herself before leaving the second platform. She still screams, but at half volume. When I meet her, she’s smiling.

Two more platforms, and she’s bouncing on the balls of her feet, beaming, exclaiming over the wildlife she’s seeing. “I swear I saw a gator, Hank, don’t say I didn’t. And an armadillo and a deer.”

“I don’t even doubt it.” I did spot a deer myself, but mostly I was watching Chastity. It’s like watching the dimmer switch on a lightbulb get turned up.

She’s alive, her cheeks pink, her expression joyful. There’s no fear or worry or overthinking.

It’s not going to last. I know that.

She has a life filled with responsibility. But I’m glad I can give her this for an hour and a half.

I’m even more grateful when we reach the bottom, and she throws her arms around me and says, “Thank you.” Her soft brown eyes are filled with something I can’t quite decipher. She kisses my cheek.

And you’d think I won the fucking lottery.

Chapter Sixteen

Chastity

“What are you studying?” I ask Nick, smiling politely at him across the table at the local town diner,

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