Home > Second Chance Summer (Chance #1)(3)

Second Chance Summer (Chance #1)(3)
Author: Emma Hart

“Kia,” he drawls, his voice hitting me like a ton of bricks.

“Reese.” I look up at him, clasping my keys tighter. The ridges on the metal cut into my palm the same way his stare slices into me.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

He doesn’t blink. “Better than I was.”

I swallow, his words hurting more than I want to admit, even if I know I have no real right to be hurt. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He nods once. “How’s college?”

“All right.”

“It that much better than here, huh?” he asks, folding his arms across his chest. I can see his tribal tattoo poking out of his white, oil covered top and creeping around his bicep.

“I never said that.”

“You meant it though, right?”

“You have no idea,” I reply under my breath, glancing around and catching Adam’s eye. Anything to break eye contact with Reese.

“Lookin’ good, Kia!” he calls with a wink.

I roll my eyes playfully. “Am I gonna get any half decent service around here or have I gotta wait for you to stop lookin’ at me like I’m your Momma’s chicken pot pie?”

Adam looks me over slowly, thoroughly enough to make any other girl blush. Thankfully, after a friendship built over mud pies in kindergarten, I’m immune to his charm.

“All right, gorgeous, I’m done. Reese, serve the lovely lady.”

I look back at Reese. He’s standing in the same position, his wary eyes a little heated.

“You know…” I quirk an eyebrow at him. “…I think there’s a lot to be said for your manners. I was told southern men were gentlemen, but I think they were mistaken, ‘cause there sure as hell ain’t one here.”

“Kia.” Reese leans forward and hooks his finger under my chin. His eyes are hotter than they were a second ago, and I can feel that heat searing into me. “If I were a gentleman, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be rememberin’ what that pretty little body looks like lying under me while I kiss every damn inch of it.”

My heart thumps at the memory, blood rushing to my cheeks. How dare he say that so casually? Damn him to Hell.

I knock his hand from my face and put my keys in it. “She’s yours to look at. I’ll be waiting outside.” I turn from him, before my eyes give me away, and stalk outside into the hot, sticky air. Not that it’s any better than being right in front of Reese with darkened eyes. He’s like his own heat source when he looks at me like that. The brief seconds of his hand touching me cause goose pimples to erupt all over my skin.

I lean back against the wall and try to remove him from my mind. Ice cream... Cold shower... Ice cubes...

Dang it. Not working.

I sigh, shaking my head at myself.

“So, what are we doing?” Reese steps out next to me, minus his coveralls and plus low rise jeans. Do I remember what’s under those jeans? You bet I do. Too well.

“Shouldn’t you be working?” I look at him out of the corner of my eye.

“Lunch break.” He leans back next to me. “And hey, we do have to catch up, don’t we?” I open my mouth, but he carries on. “So, where are we going?”

I laugh softly, almost a little sadly. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Can’t I take a pretty girl out to lunch?” His lips curl up.

“Unless that pretty girl is your girlfriend, then no, and last time I checked, we never actually made it that far.”

He freezes for a second, and I want to take back my words. I’m the reason we didn’t get that far.

“Reese, I…”

“Well I’ll be damned if New York ain’t been good to you, Kia,” he says.

“And what’s that meant to mean?”

“It means you finally got an attitude.” He moves his face in closer to mine. His breath fans across my cheek and I lock my knees in place. “And I’m real sure it’s the sexiest thing this side of the Atlantic.”

I grit my teeth. Typical Reese – don’t get your own way, turn on the charm. That charm is what made last summer happen.

It takes all my strength to step away from him. To not grab his shirt and kiss him senseless right here.

“Unbelievable.” I shake my head.

“What?” His eyes widen, and his lips part as if he can’t believe I’m not falling into his arms.

Hell, the way he’s looking at me right now, I can’t believe I’m not falling into his arms.

“Hey, Adam?” I yell and look around Reese. “You got my number right?”

“Same as before you left?” He looks up from my car.

“Yep,” I answer. “Can you do me a favor? Give me a call when you’re done with my car. I got stuff to do.”

“Sure thing, gorgeous.” He puts a thumb up, and I wave.

“See ya around, Reese.” I say nonchalantly, turning away.

“Kia...”

I wave over my shoulder, and head away from the garage. After eleven months of not seeing him and of burying my feelings for him, I’m definitely not ready to face what’s obviously still there.

~

I hear Mom stumble down the stairs and look through the kitchen drawers. A cupboard opens. The bottle hits the side. A glass follows it.

I look at the clock. Two p.m.

I want to stay here in my room. I want to ignore it. I want to forget about the crap she’s made me deal with, but some crazy sense of daughterly duty pulls me from my spot on the bed and toward the kitchen.

She still wears the old, tattered, navy blue robe he left behind. She still holds the vodka bottle like it’s her lifeline. She still doesn’t remember she has a child to look after.

And still, I’m here. Like always.

“Hey, Momma,” I say quietly.

She turns, hiding the bottle behind her back like it’ll make it go away. Her blonde hair is matted and unkempt. Last night’s make up is smudged under her eyes, and she attempts a bright smile.

“Kia, honey. I didn’t know you were coming home.”

You never do, I want to say.

“I came home early,” I lie, giving her a way out. “It wasn’t supposed to be till next week but school let out early.”

“Of course that’s why,” she says, grasping onto the excuse. “That’s why I wasn’t here to see you. You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, Mom.” I fake a smile. “Not at all. I can look after myself, remember.” God only knows I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen.

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