Summer Fling (Players of Marycliff University Book 1) (22 page)

"Where did you meet her?"

A faint smile ghosted his lips. "At a party. She spilled her drink all over both of us and I offered her a ride home. She had said she was ready to go, but hadn't driven herself."

"When was that?"

"Mid June."

His mom let out a soft gasp. "June? You've been seeing this girl since June?" She waited for his nod of affirmation. "And you never said anything. Why would you keep this from me when I ask every single week?"

He ran his hands through his hair and sat back in the chair. "Why bother, Mom? It couldn't go anywhere. She still has two years left of school and I had to come back here to work with Dad." He couldn't keep the bitterness from biting into his tone.
 

His mom's eyes narrowed. "I know you were never excited about coming back here to work with your father, but—"

"But what, Mom? The deal was that you guys would pay for school if I came back. You held up your end of the bargain, so now I'm holding up mine." He spat out the last sentence, then looked away from his mother's reproachful face. He felt like an ass for taking out his anger on her, but couldn't stop himself.

"Lance, I taught you better than to interrupt me when I'm talking to you." He still wouldn't look at her. "Look at my face." He raised his head, taking in her flaring nostrils and the thin set of her lips.
 

"Why do you think I asked you that question every week?" He shrugged. "When you went away for college I told your father, 'That boy is going to find someone while he's gone, and it'll be the worst thing we ever do if we make him come back.'"
 

Lance leaned forward in the chair again, his elbows on his thighs, his head hanging down, unable to maintain eye contact while his mom told him this. But she wouldn't let him off the hook that easily. He knew it, and so he wasn't surprised when she walked to him and put her hands on his shoulders. She cupped his jaw in her hand and gently lifted his face. "Do you love this girl, Lance?"

"Yes." There. He'd finally admitted it out loud to another person. Not the person who should've heard it first, though.

His mom's eyes examined his face. "Does she love you?"

"Yes."

She pulled her chair closer to him and sat back down. "Tell me all about her. I want to know everything."

Lance couldn't help smiling a little, thinking that she might not want to know
everything
, but pulled out his phone to show her pictures and tell her about their summer together.

She asked questions, pushing for more details sometimes, wanting to get a clear picture of the woman her son had finally fallen in love with.
 

After a while she looked at the clock. "Look at that! We've been up here for an hour. I'm surprised your father hasn't come looking for us. We'd better get back to the party. But, Lance? You either need to go back to her or get her to come down here."

Lance shook his head. "She can't come here. She still needs to finish school, and her mom …"

She nodded. "Okay, then. You'll go back there. We'll start planning after everyone goes home tonight."

"But, Dad—"

"You let me worry about your father." With a final pat on the cheek, she left him sitting in the office, feeling dazed by what had just happened.

* * *

Abby dropped her bag on the floor and flopped down on the couch. Thank God it was Friday. Megan had connected Abby with the temp agency she'd worked for all summer, and today was the last day of Abby's temp job. She'd decided she wasn't going to take another one. Classes were starting again in just over a week, which meant her job with the Foreign Language Department would start again. She wanted a week to just relax before getting back into everything.

She was exhausted. The temp job had served its purpose as a distraction since Lance left two weeks ago. The extra cash had been nice, too. But working constantly in an unfamiliar environment, trying to stay on top of someone else's job while they were out, and not enough sleep had made her so she just wanted a nap.
 

The sound of the front door closing startled Abby awake. "Hey, Abs, you hungry?"

Abby blinked and rubbed her eyes, trying to gather her bearings after being woken up from her unexpected nap on the couch. "Yeah, I could eat."

Megan breezed past the couch into the kitchen, opening the fridge. "Great. There's nothing here. Let's order a pizza and then we'll go to a party after."

Abby groaned. "Megan, I'm really not in the mood to go to a party tonight."

Megan cast a look back at Abby over her shoulder while she filled a glass of water. "You're never in the mood for a party. But you don't have a choice. I'm not taking no for an answer." She walked back into the living room and stood over Abby, who had toppled over sideways on the couch in silent protest. "Don't make me drag your ass to the car when the time comes."

"You're not strong enough. I'll go limp and you won't be able to move me." Abby's voice was slightly muffled from speaking into the couch cushion.

Megan paused, seeming to contemplate Abby's pretend threat. "True. I'll just call the guys then." She turned and walked toward her bedroom.

Abby sat up. "What guys?"

"Chris and Matt."

Abby followed Megan into her bedroom. "You're still talking to them?"

Megan nodded. "We text sometimes. They let me know about good parties. Like the one tonight." Megan leveled a glare at Abby. "And you're going, so quit whining and just pick out some clothes."

"I thought we were going to order a pizza first."

"We are. I'll call in the pizza in a minute. But if I know you, you'll try to wear your Pluto t-shirt, and I'll have to make you change. So pick out something now so I can veto it before the pizza gets here."

Abby wandered to her closet, hearing Megan's voice on the phone with their favorite pizza place. Well, second favorite. Their favorite didn't deliver.

Abby slid some hangers around in her closet, not really paying much attention. She figured that Megan was right. She'd just veto anything Abby picked, so she might as well just wait for Megan to come in and pick for her.

A minute later Megan was leaning in the doorway. "Well?"

Abby gestured at the closet. "You pick."

Megan raised her eyebrows at her, but didn't say anything. She slid some hangers around and then pulled out a light blue sleeveless top with a scooped and gathered neckline. She held it out to Abby. "Here. Wear this with your black Bermudas and some sandals."

Abby didn't take the shirt. It was the one Lance had bought for her after he'd destroyed the one she'd worn the night they met. "I don't want to wear that."

"Why not? It's cute and it brings out your eyes." Megan shoved it into her hands and turned to leave. Abby wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a knowing smile on Megan's face. She had no idea what that was about.

A couple hours later, Abby closed the lid on the leftover pizza and slid it into the fridge for later. She turned and saw the extra bag over Megan's shoulder. "What's that for?"

"The last time I dragged your ass to a party, you spilled your drink all over yourself and bailed early. It's a change of clothes in case you get clumsy again."

Abby furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to protest, but Megan turned and headed for the door before she could say anything. Abby shrugged and followed along. Megan would do what Megan wanted regardless of what Abby said, especially in her current mood. Arguing was beyond pointless.

They climbed into Megan's old red Honda and were on their way.

Abby wasn't really paying attention to where they were going, assuming it was at some random person's house. The sun was already setting, the earlier onset of twilight one of the hallmarks of August and the end of summer. It seemed strange to her that sunset moved up an hour in just two short months. When she'd met Lance it was light until well after nine. Now the sun was going down by eight.
 

She recognized that Tudor style house on the corner. And that other house with the ugly bass fish mailbox. They were on the way to— "Megan, why are we going to Lance's house?"

Megan glanced at Abby out of the corner of her eyes. "I told you Chris and Matt told me about the party tonight. It's at their house."

"Didn't you think it might be hard for me to be there since I'm still getting over Lance?"

Megan shrugged. "I thought you might like it better if you were at a party where you knew your way around and knew someone else besides me. And it's not like getting over Lance is going all that well by staying away. Have you heard from him lately?"

"We've been texting and talking on the phone some. He's been home late the last couple nights and hasn't been able to talk."

Megan made a noncommittal sound in her throat, and parked the car on the street in front of Lance's, well, Chris and Matt's house.
 

Abby looked around and didn't see any other cars except the ones that belonged there. "Are we early?" She checked the time on her phone. It didn't seem like they were early.

The sound of Megan's door slamming got Abby scrambling out of her seat. Megan had the backpack she'd brought with her and was walking to the front door. Abby thought it was kind of weird that she was bringing it inside the party. She'd figured that if Megan were bringing a change of clothes, she'd leave it in the car until it was needed. Abby followed Megan through the front door.

And froze.
 

Lance was standing in the middle of the living room, wearing his customary cargo shorts and a t-shirt. It was the Superman t-shirt she'd worn that first night they met. He looked like he hadn't shaved in a day or two, dark stubble shadowing his jaw. His eyes were roving over her body like he couldn't take her in.
 

Abby's lungs seemed to have forgotten how to work. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't speak. What was Lance doing here? Why hadn't he told her he was visiting? What did this mean?

The soft click of the door closing behind her pulled Abby out of her frozen state. She looked behind her and noticed that Megan was gone, the backpack sitting next to the front door. She and Lance were alone in his living room. Confusion and hope warred in her chest, along with a fleeting thought about Megan's part in all this. Confusion won out.

"What's going on?"

Lance crossed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms, taking her mouth in a searing kiss. "I came back." He pulled her over to the couch, sitting down with her across his lap. He kissed her again, a little more in control, but she could feel his barely restrained hunger.

Abby relished his kisses, having thought she'd never kiss him again. But she pulled back after a moment. "I don't understand."
 

He smiled down at her. "I was miserable in Texas. I came back to be with you."

"But your parents, your dad's shop? I thought you had to go work there."

Lance shook his head. "We worked it out."

"How?"

"My mom convinced my dad that making me come home was not the best idea for me. Especially once she found out about you. I called up my supervisor at the Forester Group and took the job they offered me before I left."

Abby's eyes widened. "What did you tell her about me?"

Lance was running his hand on her leg from ankle to knee. "I told her that you are sweet and caring. That you won't put up with any bullshit. That you're snarky and funny." He leaned his head close to her ear to whisper the last thing. "And that I love you." He pulled back his head, looking down at her face again. "Both my parents are excited to meet you."

Abby sat in stunned silence for a moment. "You love me?" She felt completely overwhelmed and unable to process what was happening. Stupid and dazed with Lance's presence and this new information that she never expected, never dared hope for.
 

He grinned and nodded. She felt her mouth curving in an answering smile. "I love you, too."

"I know," he whispered before kissing her again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Lance took his time kissing her. Savoring her. Reacquainting himself with the taste of her mouth. Soon, though, that wasn't enough. He needed more. Needed her. Now.

He stood up, picking her up easily, and carrying her to his bedroom. The guys hadn't found a replacement roommate yet, so he was back. Here, where he'd first had Abby. Where they'd said goodbye. Where he'd have her again.
 

She laughed when he tossed her onto the bed. He'd noticed that she was wearing the shirt he bought her on their second date when she came in. Seeing her in it always made him smile. But seeing her out of it was even better.
 

He reached back one handed and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, before crawling onto the bed with Abby. His hands skimmed up her sides, bunching the shirt as he went. She sat up, lifting her arms so he could take it off. Then she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting it slide down her arms. He reached for her, palming her breasts, tweaking her nipples, enjoying her gasps of pleasure.

He leaned forward and took one in his mouth, suckling it, rubbing it with his tongue, biting gently with his teeth. Her hands came to his head, threading through his hair, holding him against her. He moved to the other, giving it equal attention, before moving down her body, kissing and nipping, soothing the sting with his tongue. Not like last time—not hard enough to leave marks. There was no need. She was his. And he was hers. They were together again and he wasn't going anywhere this time.

He kissed just below her belly button, then undid her shorts. He had been mildly disappointed they weren't the short denim shorts he really liked, but now he didn't care at all. He hooked his fingers in the waistband and caught her panties—a thong—at the same time.
 

In his haste to undress her, he'd forgotten she was still wearing her sandals. They were strappy ones, not her usual flip flops, so they hadn't come off when she sat down like he was used to.