Very late.
“Tonight,” I say. “No plans?”
“Only the ones that I make with you.”
I bite my lip. “Good. That will help me get through my day.”
Rey groans. “Hearing you say that is going to make it impossible for me to get through mine.”
Leaning down, I brush my mouth across his. Barely there, a complete tease. “Maybe that’s what I want, so that when we come back here, you’re barely holding it in.”
“Klara, I’m barely holding it in right now.”
I feel powerful as I slide my legs over his hips and stretch. “Good.”
Rey’s hands land on my hips and yank me down, and for a breathless second, I don’t think we’re actually going to leave this room. But he sits up and moves me aside. “I hope you’re ready,” he says, a nearly feral smirk on his face. “Because as soon as the day is over, we’re back here.”
Grabbing some clothes out of my suitcase, I start to change, trying to ignore the very attractive, very naked man right behind me. “We doing what we talked about yesterday?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I won’t be able to keep my hands off you and we won’t make it that far tonight. We have time.”
We do. Not much time, but enough to make plans. I can’t keep the smile off my face. I have plans. With Reynard Mast. Is this actually my fucking life?
I put my clothes on before my actual desires got the better of me. It’s a short walk over to the cul-de-sac, but given the amount of paint and other things I have in my trunk, I have to take the car.
We’re not late. The rest of the crew is just pulling up, but there’s another car already there. One that’s all too familiar.
I blink as I pull alongside the curb and get out. Rey pulls in behind me, and I’m sure that he knows, too. As we walk up to the house, I can hear them talking.
Walking in the front door, I see the surprised faces of my parents.
12
Klara
“Hi,” I say, kind of shocked.
My mother smiles, looking around the entryway and beyond into the rest of the house.
“Hey, honey.” She sweeps me into a hug. “We hadn’t heard from you at all since you got here, so we thought we’d come over and see how things were going.”
I blink over her shoulder at my father. I hadn’t called them, she’s right, but I kind of figured they were better off resting and leaving the hard work to me. “I’m sorry, I figured that you guys would be taking it easy. Is it okay for you guys to be here?” I ask, pulling away.
Mom is far too thin and pale, and my dad has a crutch under one arm, using it as support as he recovers from his surgery. But Dad laughs. “We’ll be fine. It’s not like the doctors have us under house arrest.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh, he knows,” Mom says, waving a hand. “This seems like it’s going okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, turning and suddenly realizing that Rey didn’t follow me in the door. “The crew is just arriving for today. I’m hoping this place will be done today, and I’m going to start on the painting.”
Dad frowns. “A crew? You know a crew isn’t in the budget, Klara.”
“No, it’s okay. They’re doing it at a reduced cost. The budget will be fine.”
His face doesn’t soften. “How did you get people to agree to that?”
I take a step back at his tone. It’s angry, which isn’t what I expected. “I didn’t—”
“I did.” Rey steps inside, pushing open the front door which was ajar.
My parents go still, and I can see that it takes a moment to recognize who he is. Mom’s eyes size him up, and it’s like walls are forming right in front of me. “Reynard Mast. I had no idea you were still in town.”
Rey smiles. “Never left.”
“Thought you were in jail,” Dad mutters.
I stare at him. “Dad, that’s rude.”
“What’s rude is thinking that he can interfere in this neighborhood after what he did to it.”
My spine straightens. “Excuse me?”
A lot of things are coming back to me right now, including my parents’ dislike of Rey. When I was younger, the fact that they didn’t like him made him more exotic to me and it sparked my interest. But it didn’t take me long to like him for exactly who he is and not anything else.
In all this time, I’d forgotten that my parents ever had a problem with him. After he graduated, he wasn’t around as much, and he was just…my own personal fantasy.
But now I’m remembering the shaking heads and the angry glances out of windows. Rey hadn’t been the best kid, but no one on this block had been. We were Reject’s Corner. And we acted like it. The cops were in the cul-de-sac at least once a week, and Rey was the subject of those visits as much as anyone else.