Page 42 of Summer Sweethearts
“I’ll wait. What about you? How’s theménage à troisyou got going on?” Bayley crosses her arms, staring me down.
“It was good ‘til the morning after the cookout when I freaked out and screwed it all up,” I tell her honestly.
“You’ve been hurt, Loretta. And sometimes, when you’ve been hurt, that pain comes rushing back when you least expect it. Knocks you on your ass, or in your case, makes an ass of you. The important thing is to own up to your part and move past it.” She winks at me before rushing toward Aiden as he walks through the door.
Who the hell is this woman, and where is the Bayley who is never serious?I feel like I might be in the twilight zone. It feels really insane to be taking advice, especially relationship advice, from Bayley, but I can’t help but think she’s right.
“Aiden, I need to go. I have something I have to do, and it can’t wait,” I tell him, hurrying from behind the counter, just wanting to see Jessica and Michael and make things right with them again.
“Go. Go find your woman and man and get them back, girl,” he cheers, pumping his fist like we’re in some weird nineties movie.
I laugh but rush past him out the door. Getting in my car, I text Jessica.
Me:
Hey! Got off early. Should I still come to the address?
Jessica:
Yeah, are you on your way now?
Me:
Yeah, if that’s what you want.
Jessica:
We’ll be here. See you soon!
Sliding my phone into the holder on my dash, I put the car in drive and head out toward my destination. I don’t know whoweis. I thought she was alone, but I guess I’ll find out when I get there. It can’t be bad if there is someone else there.Right?
* * *
Turning onto the gravel drive, I can’t help but think about all the memories I have on this road. I adored his family’s house, and it’s sad that it’s been sitting empty for years since Molly can’t decide what to do with it. There aren’t many houses on this road, I think maybe three, so I’m watching the mailboxes so I can catch 1115.
My breath catches in my throat when I see it’s Michael grandparent’s house. The grass is overgrown, making the yard look like a jungle, and the chipped white paint covers the house with shutters that are dangling by a thread. I park my car behind Michael’s truck and get out, heading to the back porch.
“Hello? Jessica? Michael?” I call out as I climb the porch steps, creaking under my weight.
“In here!” Jessica hollers back. I enter the house, waving a hand in front of my face to bat away some cobwebs and letting my eyes adjust to the lightning, or the lack thereof. It’s more like the cloud of dust in the air.
“What are we doing here?” I ask, seeing them standing in what was the living room, chatting.
“Mike here was just showing me around the place and telling me some stories about the two of you here,” she smirks.
“Was he now?” I raise a brow at the two of them.
“Yeah, I know all about a certain deflowering in the attic and that you had your first orgasm on an inner tube on the pond. Very dirty girl,” she mocks.
“Let’s go outside, so we can talk and see each other more clearly,” Michael sighs, walking past both of us to the back door.
“Can I walk around quickly? It’s been so long, I just wanna see it. Then I promise we’ll talk.” I give Michael a half smile, hoping he gives me the green light.
“Go ahead, Etta, we’ll meet you at the truck.” He exits the house, and Jessica follows him, leaving me alone in the house of my dreams.
Walking through the lower level, I take in the living room, dining room, study, kitchen, bathroom, and the screened-in porch. Circling back to the living room, I head upstairs, praying they don’t give way as each board groans while I climb. There are three bedrooms and two bathrooms, not including the master suite. Plus, the laundry is up here, which I always thought was smart since the bedrooms are all up here. The whole house has a ton of vintage but beautiful built-ins and bay windows, perfect for reading.
Damn, I wish they kept this place up or would renovate it. It’s amazing, even as rundown as it is. I wonder if they’ve decided to tear it down? If that’s why Michael is here today; maybe having one last look? Once I’ve had my final look, I head back down the stairs and exit, walking toward Michael’s truck.
