“Oh yeah, that’s why,” he whispers and then clears his throat. “Anyway…mowing lawns was more fun than I thought it would be. I’m coming with you next weekend.”
“You mowed half a lawn.”
“Three quarters and I did good though, right?”
I conjure up the crooked lines on the grass and smile softly at him. “Yeah, you did good.”
“I’m a natural, but I don’t want to steal your glory. I’ll just come for the moral support and the company because, let me tell you, old people give zero fucks. Edith was fucking nuts. Did you see those binoculars? They were from like World War II and she just pulled them out of her purse like she ogles shirtless men on a daily basis.”
I chuckle and Emery continues, “And do you know what she told me. Oh my god, the visual. I can’t get rid of it.” He rubs at his eyes. “She told me she no longer wears a bra and that she just tucks her boobs into her waistband.”
I blink at him as he grabs a cookie and takes a messy bite out of it. “Can you imagine that, August? Just stuffing them right into your pants.”
“You’re right. I don’t need that visual,” I say dryly, wiping some crumbs from his cheek.
“Me either. But she was like proud of it. I guess I would be too if my tits reached my knees. That’s kind of an accomplishment.”
I chuckle at him, and he smiles at me, shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth.
“You think I’m funny, huh?”
“Yeah, Em. I do.”
He puffs up a little and then slides his hand into my back jean pocket, squeezing my ass cheek.
“So, you want me to come with you next week?”
“Yeah, and I’m sure Mrs. Melnyk does too.”
He tucks his face into my neck and he inhales. “What are your plans now? Volunteering at an animal shelter? Reading to children? Solving climate change?”
“No plans except to spend time with you.”
“Good, because I have an appointment to get one of my tattoos filled. It will take a few hours, so bring a book.”
“Wait, you want me there?”
“God yes, I need something to look at. I can do all sorts of things to you in my mind. Maybe you can pose for me, lift your shirt a little so I can stare at your abs.”
I huff a small laugh. “Can I shower first?’
“Only if I can watch.” He kisses the ends of his fingers and then sighs.
I drive a little faster on the way home and we stumble through the front door, his hands on me, his lips against mine.
“Oh, Jesus. You smell like grass. I want to fuck you in the dirt,” he grunts as he tries to peel my shirt off. It gets stuck around my neck, and he curses. “Damn thing. Want to rip it in half, but I’m not strong enough. I need more muscles.”
“Hold on,” I say on a laugh and then pick him up. He wraps his legs around my waist as I carry him into the bathroom. My back twinges from the effort, but it’s so worth it. I love him pressed up against me, the eager sounds he’s making in my ear. Like he can barely fucking stand waiting for it.
When the bathroom door is shut and locked, I push him against the wall and lick up his neck.
“When do our parents come home?” he pants. “I can’t remember. Can’t think. Need to pay better attention when people talk.”
“Later,” I mutter as I nibble across his jaw. “We have plenty of time.”
He groans in response, grinding his hips into mine. “I needallthe time with you. The past month was awful. Need to make up for it.”
“I know. Do you want to discuss––?” He cuts me off by smashing his hand against my mouth.