Page 59 of Opposites (Never) Attract
“Tag,” she breathed, leaning toward me.
“Now, get out of this truck before I change my mind and make you suck me off right here in front of your momma’s house.”
She made a low sound, a hungry growl, and I knew if Islipped my hand between her legs I could feel how hot and wet she was through the denim.
My dick pulsed with need.
I leaned over her and pulled the handle to open the passenger side door for her.
“Go on, now,” I said. “You got shit to do.”
“You’re a tease.”
“Just making you work for it, honey.”
She got out of the truck and turned to look at me before shutting the door. She still wore that hat, but her cheeks were pink and her short blond ponytail was windblown and wild. So far from the sleek, sophisticated woman in New York.
“Did you say all that stuff to distract me from the conversation I have ahead of me?” she asked.
“Did it work?” I asked her.
Her smile was pure mischief. “I’m really looking forward to the next time I see you, Tag.”
She shut the door and I watched as she straightened her back and lifted her chin.
Yeah, Sunshine Calloway was no coward. She would have dealt with her shit, whether I’d distracted her or not. But now, we were both thinking about the next time we got together.
Damn. It was going to be good.
TWELVE
SUNSHINE/KAITLYN
When I was sixteen,my dad drove me to the airport to leave for Columbia. I was sure
my family would come visit me in New York. They would want to see the iconic city, and they’d be so proud of how hard I’d worked to put my stamp on it.
Mom was scared of flying, but she would get over that, wouldn’t she? For me?
She didn’t.
Harmony had come a bunch of times over the years. She’d stayed in my dorm room the first few years, and then come for a week when I’d gotten my first job and my own studio apartment. We got rush seats to all the Broadway shows and went shopping at the second-hand shops on 7thAvenue.
Dad came a few times. Only staying a night, maybe two. I’d take him for bagels and Chinese food because he could eat his weight in dumplings. We’d walk around Central Park because he needed to see trees and not buildings, and he’d ask me questions about my work and I tried to answer him in ways he would understand.
Bliss came once. She went to the Village while I was working. Got a tattoo. Made out with a drummer for a punk band she’d convinced me to go see the night before.
Basically, I hadn’t seen her much beyond one dinner, and not again until she came home to grab her bag and head back to the airport. She’d smelled like cigarettes and bad decisions.
Mom never came.
She called. She texted. But she never came to visit me.
I found it really hard to forgive her for that.
So, because she didn’t come to visit me, I didn’t visit her. I might not have understood that was what I was doing, but underneath all the weekends at the office and the vacations I didn’t take because of work – resentment raged.
Until Dad died. A sudden heart attack at fifty-eight and he was gone. A collapsed artery. No chance to get him to a hospital in time. It was fast and they told me he didn’t suffer.
