Page 15 of About Time

She shrugs. “There is.”

“I repeat, why this bar?” I push.

The look she gives me lets me know just how stupid she thinks I'm being right now. I know she has a thing for me, but I'm going to make her say it. I need it out in the open, but it has to be her so I’m not the pervy old dude creeping on a young girl.

“I noticed you checking me out at the pond last week.” Hattie pauses, probably waiting for me to leap in and confirm what she's saying. That's not going to happen though because no matter how attracted to her I am, I do have to walk away from her.

“Ugh,” she groans. “You're really going to make me spell this out, aren't you? Fine. I think you are attracted to me, and I know you know that I've always had a thing for you. I'm not a kid, and Martin is my brother-in-law, not my brother. Would it be so wrong?”

I take a step forward, and she moves back. I don't stop until she's pinned against the outside wall of the bar. “Yes, it would be wrong. I've known you since you were what, sixteen? I'm ten years older than you, Hattie.”

Her chin lifts stubbornly in the air. “Do you really think anyone really cares? Hell, half of the men in this town will probably high-five you.”

“Martin won’t. You might make the distinction between him being your brother and brother-in-law, but I can promise you he doesn't. He'd never trust me again, and that would ruin our friendship.”

“Who says that he has to find out?” Hattie says, and the weak threads of my arguments start to fray.

“You want to get fucked, little girl? Be careful my self-control only goes so far. You’re right, I was checking you out in that microscopic bikini, just like every other asshole at the pond. I almost forgot why you were off-limits,” I say, trying one last time to intimidate her away from this path.

Instead, her tongue slowly swipes across her bottom lip, and she leans closer to whisper in my ear. “You're the only one making me off-limits. When it comes to you, I won't say no. To anything.” Then she leans back again, letting her green eyes slowly slide up and down my body. She must be satisfied with whatever she sees because a naughty grin pulls at the corners of her mouth.

“Keep pushing me, and I'll give you what you think you want. Going home with me won't be some kind of romantic fairytale. Normally, I only hook up one time with a woman, but I might want to play with you for a while. If you really want to do this with me, I won’t be your boyfriend. I will treat you like my own personal fuck toy. If I want you down on your knees, you’ll get down in front of me and suck my cock. Anything I want, you’ll either do, or you can leave, and our arrangement will be over. You will give me complete access to your body however and whenever I want to use it. But you have to remember that we will not be a couple. I don’t do relationships, and I won’t fall in love with you. While it lasts, you’ll be my toy. You can say no anytime, but as soon as you do, we’re done. Does that really sound like the kind of arrangement you want?”

I’m not sure if I want her to say yes or no. To be honest, I started saying a lot of that shit just to shock her, but I won’t lie and say that I haven’t fantasized about having this kind of relationship with a woman.

Hattie takes a step forward until her full tits are smashed against my chest. Then she looks up at me and speaks quietly, “Whatever you want, Sir. I’m yours.”

“Fuck me,” I grumble to myself.

I look into her lust-filled green eyes, and there’s no backing down now. This is happening, so there’s only one thing to do. Keep this shit locked down tight.

“No one can know,” I say to her and grab a fist full of her hair to tip her head back further. “When the summer is over, so are we. Until then, your body is mine. No one else gets to touch it or see it.”

She doesn’t say anything, so I give her hair a little tug. Just enough to get her attention, not to cause her pain. “No one gets to touch me.”

“Say you’re mine,” I demand.

“I’m yours for the summer,” she agrees.

Something about her words gnaws at me, and I can’t help but wonder if three months will be enough time.

I clear my throat. “Saturday, come to my house.”

Chapter Seven

Hattie Past- Age 19

My body is buzzingwhen I leave the bar. Even though I didn’t have a drop of alcohol, I feel like the ground I’m standing on is shifting under my feet. I feel like I’m on the edge of an adventure, and my body is buzzing with the expectation of adrenaline.

I don’t sleep well, and when my alarm goes off in the morning, I struggle to wake up. I lace up my running shoes and hit the pavement. It's not the same as running on the beach in Florida, but I've become addicted to the release of endorphins. There aren't a lot of ways to get that same high, not like surfing. Since I have a few hours before I am supposed to meet up with Charlie, I need to do something to settle my nerves.

Finally, around six, Charlie texts me to come over to his house around seven. What does around seven mean? Am I supposed to be there at seven, or am I supposed to be there after seven? It's really confusing. But since we are going with casual, I will err on the side of caution and show up around seven-fifteen. Maybe if I were more experienced, I would be more confident in dealing with the opposite sex. Until then, I’m going to fake it.

I know there’s something wrong with me pursuing a man ten years older than me. Maybe other people wouldn’t think twice if I were older, like in my thirties, but I’m not. Some will say I have daddy issues, and I guess that’s probably true.

My mom was diagnosed with an autoimmune disease rather late, and I guess her health struggles were too much for my dad. When she went from caring for him to needing to be cared for occasionally, he hit the road. The added stress of becoming a single mom and the sole income made her ignore her health for longer than she should have. What should have been a manageable condition if treated caused too much damage to her organs, and by the time she started taking her health seriously, it was too late. She declined rapidly, and by the time I was eleven years old, I ended up being cared for by my twenty-three-year-old sister.

Elisa tried to find our dad, but if she succeeded, she never told me. Good riddance because any man who can’t be bothered to take care of the most selfless woman I’ve ever known is someone who doesn’t deserve to be remembered. That’s why I pushed until I was allowed to change my last name to Parker and lose Reynolds forever.

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